I have such a different memory of 9-11 than most people. I mean, I know we all have different stories about where we were when disaster struck, how you heard about it, how you felt. Our story is very different.
On 9-11-01, PJ and I were in Aqtobe, Kazakhstan. It was the day that we met our little Indira for the first time. Up until then, we had only seen video. On that day, we met her in person. During our first of twice daily visits that went on for the week, a very sweet and loving caregiver brought her to us. That room, the smells, the light peeking in the lace curtains, the rug on the floor, the sound of the footsteps up the stairs and the door creaking open. I remember it all so vividly. Like it was yesterday.
During the first visit, Indira's eyes...big and brown and beautifully almond shaped...never left ours. She looked at us as if she knew who we were and why we were there. She was 7 months old. Coughing. Sick. (All three of the babies that we traveled with were!) Small for her age. Adorable. That visit was amazing and I can't help but almost cry when I think about it.
When we left the orphanage that day from our morning visit, we were on a high that was unexplainable. Until our drivers started trying desperately to tell us of the events back home. But....thanks to the dreaded language barrier, they couldn't communicate what had happened. I think the most we got out of the broken English was, "New York city....Boom, Boom!"
During lunch, our coordinator received a phone call and turned a t.v. to CNN. Although it was in Russian, we knew what was happening. A translator was relaying most of the information as we sat in that little living room and cried. One family that we traveled with was even from the D.C. area. Their older daughter was still at home with her grandparents. I can't imagine the fear they must have felt.
I remember hearing the dreaded words, "Muslim extremist." Then I remember realizing we were in a Muslim country. I would be lying if I said I was not scared. I was. I heard of the US Embassy closing in almost every country, including Kazakhstan. I heard of all international flights being canceled. Who wants to be in another country with no embassy open and no international flights at the start of a war? We cried. Out of fear. Out of sadness for what had happened. We just cried.
I am happy to say that I learned a valuable lesson that day/week. I realized that not all Muslims are 'bad'....just those who terrorized our country. Christians have their share of extremists that advocate violence and I would like to think that not all Christians are 'bad.' (I can provide another blog to discuss violent Christians!) It seems like such a simple lesson, and yet I still see people cringe when you speak the word "Muslim." That is so sad to me.
During that week, we were assured that we were safe. And, surprisingly enough, we felt safe. The local police, who knew there were Americans in town even stopped by the apartment to check on us and express their sadness at what had happened. When the U.S. Embassy in Kazakhstan opened back up in Almaty, we went to continue with our paperwork to complete our adoption. There were flowers everywhere. Lining the sidewalks up to the door. Beautiful and so sad.
That day was so amazing to me and such a defining moment in so many ways. It definitely contributes to the process of growing as a person. I have sadness for those who died on 9-11, but I also have an unexplainable happiness.
Such a strange feeling....even after this many words, I still don't think I am able to really verbalize my feelings. Tonight I am going to bed grateful for a daughter that I love dearly and will never take for granted! I know what we went through to get her. I know how happy she has made me and I love celebrating this day with her!
