The Politics of International Adoption

I read with much admiration an excellent essay that a friend sent me today on the politics of international adoption, as considered by Peter Conn, Professor of English at the University of Pennsylvania:

http://ehistory.osu.edu/osu/origins/article.cfm?articleid=6&articlepage=1

In my post of 25th July "The Last Resort" I rejected the politically correct statements being made by ideologists like Gillian Mellsop, the Country Representative of UNICEF in Nepal, who at the time had gone on the record as saying that international adoption should be the last resort. Challenging these hollow, fawning viewpoints at the time I gave a short overview of the other options that were infinitely worse for the unwanted, unloved Nepali child - like ending up in a grim orphanage, on the streets, being trafficked or early death. Professor Conn's review complements this analysis, albeit in a much more erudite commentary.

That said, he does remind us that the process of adoption is always accompanied by "disruption, loss and mourning". In the midst of the joy that we new adoptive parents are revelling in at the moment it is appropriate to remember this and give a great deal of early thought to the future needs of our new sons and daughters who will have to cope with these sentiments. I can imagine how in the light of how the recent international adoptions have been so abysmally mismanaged by the Nepalese authorities some, if not most, parents may wish to have nothing more to do with Nepal. The reality we have to accept and work around is that the adopted child, teenager and future adult will always feel an affinity with their homeland. They may even fantasise about it as some kind of Shangri La - which it certainly isn't. As far as my daughter Alisha is concerned, we will be very open with her in the future about her background (what little we know of it) and of the ongoing situation - and desperation - of Nepal. She should never be made to feel "grateful" for what was an act of love on our part, but she should be given every opportunity to understand the pain and hardship of Nepalese society and the context from which she was adopted. Maybe one day she might even feel inclined to follow in our footsteps and put something back; I would be delighted by that but ultimately this will have to be her own choice.

The Esther Benjamins Trust now has a major Indian circus in its sights for a rescue operation within the coming month. Our field workers have already gone to the southeast of Nepal to research the families of children who have gone to that particular circus. Predictably, it seems that the circus has already been tipped off (doubtless by families who will receive a kickback for their collaboration) as I learned today that four girls have just been sent home to Nepal from that circus. Sometimes circuses do that in advance of a rescue to unsettle us or to improve their image. But once again our already acutely dangerous task will be made all the more challenging by tackling a circus that will be ready and waiting, having bought off everyone that matters in its locality.

An abstract philosophical concept

A needless amount of time was spent by us at the bleak Foreign Ministry today in pursuit of Alisha's travel document, a mini passport that would allow us to take her out of the country next month. We were invited to present ourselves at 12.00 noon and, quite predictably, when we got there we were told to come back at 2 p.m. At 2 p.m. we discovered that the staff who were dealing with the documentation would be on tea break for another half hour. They finally turned up at 2.45 p.m. and we were at last issued with her little black book.

Waiting around we speculated on what was going on around us, or not, as the case may be. The young Nepali staff member of Alisha's orphanage who had accompanied us suggested that all Nepalis were lazy. We quickly - and politely - disagreed. Anyway, this is certainly not the case. Bev and I continued the discussion over dinner this evening. She opined that from what she had seen there is a tendency (and let's try to avoid generalisation) for people who have a job to do here to get distracted so that they lose focus and don't achieve their work goals. There is certainly truth in this as you can see it happening in offices across the land, with visitors coming and going all the time, chats taking place and clerks trying to juggle everyone's interests at the same time. Objectives aren't achieved on schedule in this chaos and this is most definitely a land of lost opportunities.

However I have a different take on this. I often reflect on a pearl of wisdom that I read in a tourist guide book when I first came to Nepal in 1999. In a section of the book it stated something to the effect that "in Nepal time is an abstract philosophical concept" with people unable to time their arrival for meetings, meet deadlines etc. That's definitely true, but what I have seen is not just people losing a grip on their own time management but also their making a very good job of wasting the time of others. I wonder how many man hours are lost per week in Nepal through this inescapable and infuriating practice? Herein lies another problem that just cannot be addressed by the development sector - one of many that bedevil our attempts to improve society. Sadly no one seems to care in Nepal, just accepting this as being the norm, which is why this country is going to get left so far behind as its more tuned in neighbours recognise and seize opportunities with alacrity.

Before Christmas The Daily Mail, the leading UK tabloid newspaper, invited its readers to write in and propose their favourite charity for a prize. Generously, the Mail was offering a top prize of £100,000 with 90 runner up prizes of £10,000. I was very touched to read what some of our supporters wrote about us and we published some of these on our website:

http://www.ebtrust.org.uk/site/testimonials.htm

I was over the moon to learn this evening that we have been selected as a runner up prize winner. That's a very welcome boost just as I was starting to worry again about meeting our rapidly growing commitments.

A funny old Christmas

I really must do something about the window to my study, which seems to spring open all too regularly in the cold evenings. Because of my ajar window as I type I am being inflicted with a chilly draft coming off the hill to the south. Much worse than that though has been the incessant serenading from the house across the way. In characteristic Nepali style it is rather monotonous, with just a whiff of alcohol in its tuneless delivery. Most bizarrely one of the pieces that I have had to endure has included a drawling rendition of "Gloria Inexcelsis". This has only served to reinforce what a very unusual Christmas this has been.

Yes, it's of course been fantastic with the news of Alisha's adoption being approved but this latter has involved us being in the freezing mausoleum of a Foreign Ministry building on Christmas morning trying to progress her paperwork. I watched, bemused, as a slob of a self-important official sat crouched over his desk literally pushing the paperwork around the table top, fingering and re-fingering it but doing little else. He was dressed in padded jacket and had an electric radiator trained on each leg, all contributing towards his general air of indolence. I commented to the chap who accompanied from the orphanage that a guy like this wouldn't last five minutes back in the West. He's clearly made a success of himself in Nepal.