Mystery Solved

The picture that my brother found turned out to be my a drawing my little sister did. She was 6 at the time. I thought it might be hers when I first saw it. So no premonitions by my brother. Too bad, I was just about to ask him if the Sox would win the world series again. :)

Tip of my tongue - by Nelson/Roberto

June 1998

"Roberto, levanate" my father says as he nudges me awake.

Its 5:30 in the morning and its still dark out. My flight home leaves in a few hours so I have to wake up and get ready. Sleepily I rub my eyes, yawn and head towards the kitchen. I'm greeted by Gerardo and his wife who promptly start asking me about breakfast. Being so early and my due to the little Spanish I know, all I can do is stair blankly. Picking up on this they try again.

"Cerial?" Gerardo questions. I nod. "Pan...bread?"

"Si" say while fighting back another yawn.

My father says something. He mentions Eva. I perk up a little. I haven't seen her since December when we first met. I think he says that her and Roy will be at the airport.

Time to get ready. I showered and pack up and drag my bags out to the car. The sun is up now and the air is still cool but it's getting warmer.

Its about a 30 minuet drive to the airport so I take out my CD player. I'm always listening to music whenever I travel. This time its The Notorious B.I.G.'s Life after death album. As we drive a long I start to think about camp and how I will be there in two days. "You must be crazy" I think to my self. I'm traveling over 3,000 miles in 4 days. Yesterday morning I was in panama and spent the day in a buss on there way to Costa Rica. Later today I will be back in Boston. Tomorrow I will be packing for camp and Sunday Will be my first day as a Counselor In Training.

Maybe I shouldn't have missed the week of staff training...oh well nothing I can do now. What could possibly go wrong anyway?

We're here. I jump out of the van and look around...no Eva yet. We unload my luggage and find a place to sit. It is a beautiful day. The warm air is intoxicating and makes me not want to leave. But then I remember its summer back home too and we'll probably have more weather like this.

Just then a car pulls up. Its Eva! not a moment too soon either, because its almost time to check in. We all hug and Roy starts chatting away with my dad and Gerardo.

Out of the corner of my eye, I glance at my sister timidly. She must have seen me because she takes my hand and places it on her stomach. She smiles and says something in the best Spanglish she can muster. I'm not really listening, all I can think of how weird this pregnancy thing is. My sister is the first person I can remember that's been pregnant. She is due any day now and her stomach is huge. I move my hand long her brown dress. No kicks, I'm a little disappointed.

I pull my hand back and look up at her. She smiles knowingly. I smile back thinking how grown up and mature she looks. There is something about her, something familiar in those eyes.

Its time to go now. We kiss, hug and say goodbye. I want to tell her something but I don't know what. Its like the words are there, on the tip of my tongue but I don't know how to say them. So I just stood there, looking at her. Someone I want to know but can't. It wouldn't be until three years later that I would realize what I saw that day.

Premonition?

My older brother Ernesto sent me this picture yesterday. Its a drawing he did when he was in elementary school. Whats interesting that it was in an envelope that had Roberto written on the front.

We both think it is a picture of us meeting for the first time. The girl and boy at the top of the picture are him and Eva. The little bot coming down the steps of the airplane is probably me and holding my hand is my mother Ana. Next to her could be Mama Chila and Luis.

Whats really weird is that this isn't far off from what actually happened. So I wonder is it just a coincidence or a premonition...

Feedback

We've had quite a few new visitors over the past few weeks so I want to say welcome. It means a lot to me and my siblings to have you visit our site. So thanks for coming and we hope you enjoyed our stories.

I'm one of those people who always want to make things better so I was wondering what people thought of our site so far. I'd love to hear any comment or questions you might have.

Or you can use the Spotback widget that I've installed. Its the little widget at the bottom of every post that says rate this. So you can just slide the little bar to let us know what you think of each story.

The posts with the highest clips are on displayed on the right. You can also tag each post with whatever tags you think might fit. I really like it so far and if you would like to get you own you they are still in alpha but you can sign up at http://www.spotback.com

Hope to hear from you.

Looking into the past

While I was writing my post about the orphanage I started to wondering if I could find the orphanage online anywhere.

Maybe someone working there would remember me and could tell me a little bit more about what I was like there. We know that I had to be fed first and that I really liked coke but not much else. Maybe they would have a funny story or something about me.

I did a quick google search and I found a news letter from 2003 from an orphanage with the same name but in a different location in Honduras. At the bottom was an email address of someone who I assumed worked there. I sent them an email asking if they did in fact work there or knew of anyone who was working there.

I got a response back earlier this week from a man who no longer worked there but was able to provide me with the email address of someone who does. I asked this person if they knew anyone who might have worked there during the same time period I was there. She said she did and was glad to help.

This morning I sent her an email that she could forward asking if anyone remembered me. I haven't herd back yet but I'll be interested to see if anyone responds.

The Orphanage - By Nelson Roberto

When the gunfire stops a women lays dead face down in the door way. Two men have been shot as well. They lie slumped over rifles by there side. As the police go through the house I'm found crying in my crib. Next to me are two other girls. Social services is called in to deal with us. As I'm being as taken away a news paper photographer stops us to take a picture. One police officer is holding me while the male officer next her tries to get me to smile. It works. My face lights up in a happy little smile completely unaware of what has just happened and what is to come.

I'm taken to a private orphanage in Tegucigalpa Honduras. This will be my home for the next year. I will spend most of my days in a my crib straiting out of the window on the third floor of this clay building. I won't learn how to walk or speak very well. I won't eat very well either. But I will be fed.

During this time a notice is put into the paper asking anyone who might be missing a child to come forward and claim me. No one does, so six months after I arrive I am legally put up for adoption. I will wait another six month before I meet my parents.

It's May 1980 and I have just turned two. My adoptive parents arrived in the country a few weeks earlier. Today we will meet for the first time.

My soon to be dad wakes up early and staring making coffee. My soon to be mom lays in bed a few more minuets for before joining him. They are tired from a long night of nervous sleep.

"What do you think he will looks like?"
"We will know very soon." My mother replies.

They shower and dress quick anticipating what is to come.

My dad paces nervously waiting for the social worker to arrive. "Why do you think they wouldn't let any picture be taken of him? Do you think might be something wrong with him that they don't want us to know about?"

"I don't know hunny we will see soon enough."

"Where are they? They should have been here by now." my dad says anxiously

"They will come try to relax" my mom replies trying to hide her own anxiety.

"I'm going to call to make sure" My dad hurries off to make the call. He return shortly. "She's not home." He reports disappointedly

Then the door bell rings. Finally the social worker has come to take them to the orphanage.

As they arrive they are greeted by one of the staff members. Not wasting any time my dad asks. "What is he like?"

"Hes a sweet little boy but he will cry and cry if he is not fed first." She answers shaking her head

"Oh?" my mom inquires.

"Don't worry hes really nice" she replies quickly "but he doesn't talk much. He only knows how to say agua. That means water and he says it when hes hungry or when he needs anything else."

As they walk through the rooms filled with cribs, some of the children poke their heads up to see the visitors.

"I wonder if we could adopt more than one." My dad wonders aloud.

"Here we are." The staff member stops at the last crib on the third floor. "Oh and one more thing..." she says as a smile crosses her face "he really loves Coke."

This is the moment my had parents been waiting for. As they approach the crib they see me lying down in a cloth diaper and an old t-shirt. I look up with a blank expression on my face not knowing what to expect.

My mom hands me a Paddington bear with a blue raincoat and red hat. I play with it curiously. Its the first stuffed animal I've ever had. They pick me up and hold me. I'm not sure what to make of this. They takes turns holding me and playing my with long curly brown hair. But now they must leave to finalize the adoption.

They put me back in the crib and say good bye. They will be back for me tomorrow once it is official. As they drive away I watch from my window, holding my Paddington close, wondering who are these people and if I'll ever see them again.

Adoption stories

When I started the Ana's Miracle blog I was writing primarily to tell my family's story and reflect on everything that has happened to us. One aspect of the story that I had not spent a lot of time talking about was the adoption part. As I wrote on my Being Adopted post I don't think about it as much anymore.

However I started looking into different groups on facebook and other sites about being adopted. Reading what so many people wrote reminded me of the days when I felt very confused about being it.

There are so many other great adoption stories out there and so many people struggling with it as I did. But I didn't really find a good place to share stories. They are kind of all over the place. So I decided to build a lens on Squidoo about it. (If you haven't checked out Squidoo its a pretty cool site created by the one and only Seth Godin.

I just started it but I'm hoping to add more soon. If anyone would like to share there story I'd love to hear it. Let me know what you think.

Adoption Stories on Squidoo

A Moment for Darfur

I want to take a moment and talk about the situation in Darfur. I know it might seam a little off topic for this blog but I think there are some connections and it is something that I feel needs some attention.

If you are not familiar with the situation in Darfur, the government of Sudan is committing genocide against the African people who live there. There are reports of government backed militia wiping out entire villages, mass killings, and a policy of rape. The is more detail on the Darfur conflict on Wikipedia.

The Holocaust Museum in Washington DC had a special section on Darfur when I was there last month. However I was not able to spend much time looking at it. I really didn't know anything about the conflict until I downloaded this free NBC News Special from iTunes last night. Its about 30min long and provides a good overview of the situation. There are also some videos on YouTube.

I think its important to talk about whats going on because of the Human rights violations that are taking place. In El Salvador there were similar human rights violations such as the El Mozote massacre were 900 civilians were kill in an anti-guerrilla campaign. The scale in Darfur is much larger which makes it all the more important to bring attention to the situation. Its hard to believe that even after the Holocaust events like this still take place all over the world in places such as El Salvador, Kosovo and Rwanda.

I wonder in this day and age of technology, what if the people in Darfur were able to blog and tell the world about their experiences? I Think there might be a much bigger outcry by the international community. The real power of blogs and new media is that it gives everyone a voice and a chance to be herd. Since the people in Darfur do not have a voice I feel it is up to us to speak for them.

I'm not here to preach or tell what you should do. I know people are busy and don't take the time to look into these things. I know I didn't. I also know these situations are difficult to hear about. But now that I do know I'm going to find out what I can do to help.

Its worth looking into and I'll leave the rest up to you...

If you would like more information about the situation in Darfur please look at the Wikiepdia entry and www.savedarfur.org

The Adoption Story - Nelson/Roberto

I haven't talked much about the adoption side of things on this blog yet so I want to get into that a little bit more. I'm probably going to mess up some of my facts since I was only a little baby when some of this happened. I'm sure my mother will do a much better job of telling it but here it goes.

I was adopted from an orphanage in Honduras in 1983. My adoptive parents had just started the adoption process and were probably about a year away from getting a child. Then one night they got a phone call around 9:00pm saying that there was a child available for them however there was no picture, no background information and they would have until 3:00pm the next day to decided. I don't think this ever happens in adoption cases.

Thankfully, after a long night with not much sleep, they decided to adopt. They were living in the Boston area and had to rush to get everything ready before leaving for Honduras. It was the beginning of April and they had to be down in Central America by May. As they were getting ready to leave they found out that they would need FBI clearance in order to travel to Honduras. This normally takes 4 or 5 weeks and they only had one. To their surprise someone(we'll call him/her a Mystery Politician) pulled some strings for them and Senator Kerry's office was able to get them clearance in 2 days.

They flew down to Honduras where they were provided with a place to stay and a lawyer to help them with all the paper work. Again, this never happens. As the adoption went on the people involved where very hush hush and wouldn't tell my parents anything. They mentioned something about a gunfight but wouldn't say why I was up for adoption or why they were trying to get me out of the country so fast. My adoptive father speculated that I was illegitimate sun of the president or something like that. They did learn that our Mystery Politician was overseeing the adoption and this explained where all the political help was coming from.

They finished the adoption and took be back to the US with them. The judge who oversaw my case required that my father mail her updates every 6 months. My father diligently sent letters for almost 2 years. While talking to another parent about there experience he learned that these updates were not part of the normal adoption process and he promptly stopped. This seamed to the make the whole adoption that much weirder.

I grew up knowing that I was adopted (My parents are white and they always told me I was.) But they couldn't tell me who my parents were or even when I was born. This was very hard for me growing up since it meant it would be next to impossible to find my birth family. My Adopted father had this newspaper article that someone had gotten for us. The article had a picture of a man who had been killed around the time that I went into the orphanage. As I was growing up he would look at the picture and try to see if there was any resemblance between us.

Then one day the impossible happened. My parents got another phone call at night in the summer of 97. A man called from an organization called Probusqueda that looked for lost children in El Salvador. It turned out I had been born there not Honduras and my birth family had been looking for me for 4 years. My parents told me soon after when I got home from summer camp. It was a huge shock for all of us.

The organization sent us pictures and letters from them written to the lost child Roberto(that's me.) After a blood test to confirm that hey were indeed my family we started to make arrangements to fly down. In truth they really didn't need to do the blood test. I look exactly like my birth father and a lot like my older brother.

That Christmas we flew down to meet them the for the first time. My adopted parent were nervous that I would want to stay with my birth family but that never really crossed my mind. Since then I have been down about twice a year to visit them and we have become one big family. Its been truly an amazing and I'm so lucky to have had such wonderful adoptive parents who supported me all these years and when I went to meet my birth family.

Part 2 - The back story or read the e-book

Being Adopted - By Nelson/Roberto

I think adoption is one of the most wonderful and at the same time one of the most difficult things I have experienced in my life. The joy of adoption can best be described by the quote that begins this blog.

Losing ones family obliges us to find ones family. Not always the family that is our blood but the family that can become our blood.

However, no matter how great my adoptive parents have been, growing up as an adopted child was not always easy. The most difficult emotion I have ever had to deal with was the uncertainty that came from being adopted. I imagine that most if not all adopted persons go through a similar experience sometime during their life.

Perhaps in my case these feelings might have been harder to deal with. For my parents did not even know birthday never mind how I came to be adopted. Today I could not imagine my life without my adopted family but back then having them was not enough.

There is just something about your birth-mother/birth-father that you can never forget or completely let go of. You want to know what they look like, if you look like them and what kind of people are they. But most importantly you want to know: Why was I given up?

To this question there is no easy answer. It is something that I struggled with and watched my friends struggle with. Some were more vocal than others but you just knew even the quiet ones were thinking about it too. You wonder how can the people who gave you life simply give you away? Well I'm sure it's never that easy and I'm sure they never forget either.

I used to sit at night staring out of my window wishing I could just see my my mother. I thought if I could just see her, she would make everything better. These feelings never went away, no matter how hard I tried to fight or ignore them. But that all changed when I met my birth family.

Being reunited with them was incredible to say the least. I went from not knowing my birthday to having three new siblings and a huge family that had been looking for me all along. It seamed to answer all my questions about who I was and if I looked like my parents (I'm practically a carbon copy of my father.)

However I feel like I am very lucky in this respect. I have herd a few stories of people who went looking for their birth parents only to find they had nothing in common and could not relate to each other. I wish I could say "Don't worry one day you will find your birth parent too and everything will be alright" but I know that's not always the case. Not every adoption story has such a happy ending.

In the end I wonder how much finding your birth parents really matters. Yes finding them did answer a lot of my questions and it did take away the awful feeling of uncertainty but I don't think that's what mattered most. I think what mattered the most was the family that we have became.

I hardly think of it as my adopted family and my birth family anymore. When people say "oh you found your real parents" I say no I found my birth parents. I don't even like to make the distinction between them. I just like to think I have two sets of parents and one BIG family.

Family is more than just being related because sometimes even our own blood doesn't treat us as they should. Family is about caring for people and loving them unconditionally. Family is what we found in them and what they found in us.

Not always the family that is is our blood but the family that can become our blood...


Christmas 1997

Christmas 2006

Iraq is the new El Salvador? - by Nelson/Roberto

This weekend I watched Salvador which is a movie about photo journalist Richard Boyle who travels to El Salvador during the begging of its Civil War. The movie depicted the violence surrounding the country at the time. It stars James Woods and was directed by Oliver Stone.

The movie takes place during the early 80's. This was also around the same time that I was born and separated from my family.

On one side you have the right government forces who control most of the couturiers wealth. On the other you have the peasants and farmers of El Salvador who are supposedly getting help from communist countries.

I found my self drawing many parallels with the current war in Iraq. There is a very sobering scene about half way through the movie where Richard Boyle is arguing with the US military general. Boyle has just returned from the mountains of El Salvador where he has taken pictures of the guerrilla fighters. The general is drilling him for about the types of weapons that the guerrillas have. When he explains that they have simple rifles the general refuses to believe him claiming that "military intelligence" says that they have RPGs and other weapons supplied by communists.

This sounds all to familiar to me. I remember very clear George Bush making claims that Iraq had "weapons of mass destruction" and was being backed by terrorists nations. I think its sad really. Are we doomed to repeat our mistakes?

There is also a clip of Ronald Reagan talking about the communist terrorists and how they could take over Central America and then even north America. Once again this sounds all to familiar.

In El Salvador we funded the war because we were afraid of communists. We invaded Iraq because we were afraid of Terrorists. Honestly I think the only different between then and now is September 11th. Because of 9/11 congress allowed President Bush to lead us into a war we had no business starting. Thankfully congress did not let Regan invade El Salvador because it might be like Iraq is today. Even so it is still a very violent place to be and it might be getting worse.

Another interesting scene in the movie was when Boyle interviews the guerrillas. There was footage of them training. I can only wonder if this is what my father went through. They also mention and act out what was known as "the final offensive." This was supposed to be the last big push by the rebels to take over the country. However it turned out to be just the beginning of a bloody 13 year war. My mother mentioned this in her last letter.

Overall it was a really good movie and I recommend if you are interested in El Salvador's Civil War or want to see the parallels to Iraq that I mentioned.

Was it all in vain? - by Nelson/Roberto

While surfing the web this week, looking for other blogs about El Salvador I came a across the A Different View of a Good Life blog. The author meg has spent some time living in El Salvador and she writes about her accounts there. In this post she talk about the violence in El Salvador.

El Salvador has a culture of violence and trauma reinforced by a history of a brutal civil war; a war that ended with some peace accords that basically lied to the people by saying things were going to change. It is true, things did change. Many say that the poverty rate is worse now than when it was in the war. Imagine that, the people have gotten poorer? The rich politicians have brought in their neoliberal politics and trade agreements (CAFTA) to benefit their friends in corporations. And the people are slowly losing their right to march and protest the injustice going on in their country because as the government likes to say, the protests of the left are terrorist acts, so now there is new terrorist legislation.

Then there are the gangs. The gangs of El Salvador originated in the US, but with the slick deportation process of the US government, El Salvador found a new problem to deal with. The gangs are neither leftist or rightist, but Tony Saca likes to think the gangs are all leftist (even if Arena does pinta y pega with gang members during the elections). And so, with the easy solutions of the Arena government, all the youth of El Salvador are a target. So much for treasuring your future!

So when you couple a history of violence with a people in growing need for food, shelter and jobs, youth who are being targeted, gang members who target everyone (especially busses), and the slow political process that takes human rights away one by one, one might find a breading ground for a whole mess of effects brought on by this culture. One such effect is widespread violence.

A lot goes on in this country every day. Busses are attacked and burned if they didn’t pay the gang fare. Patrons of busses are robbed or killed every day. In the night there are shootings, and we have a homicide rate that is through the roof. Occasionally there are protests, but the last one turned into a police instigated riot with helicopters equipped with gunmen.

A few months ago one of my cousins almost died her when her husband shot her and killed their baby son. This was very hard on my grandmother and it took her a while to get over it. Maybe a year before another cousins on my fathers side died in a car jacking incident.

I wasn't close to either of them but in a way this is so depressing to me. I mean my family lost so much in this war. My mother gave her life and my father lost his home, his wife and his son for 16 years. For what? so that the country could become even poorer?

He has been through some very hard times in his life and you can see how the war has affected him. I would hate for him to find out it was all for nothing...