Which Path Are You Following?

I don't have much time to jot down my feelings, but I felt the need to write a quick blog this morning. I know its been awhile since I've written; I've had a lot of feelings to deal with that I'm still not sure I'm ready to share on this blog. It's hard exposing myself to everyone as I go through emotion after emotion. That being said, I hope those who still read my blog aren't disappointed by my recent lack of exposure.

I have to say, I never believed in fate more than I do now. In Colombia, every time I follow my gut, follow my real feelings and desires, I end up exactly where I feel I should be. The past few days I decided to follow a new path, conquer new fears, and do things I've never done before but have always wondered about. My path lead me to a few people and experiences I will not soon forget. While I don't have time to retell everything, I thought one meeting in particular might be interesting to a few (especially those who know my entire adoption search story). 

The end of the new path I took two nights ago, lead me to a bar last night that I had not been to in several months. It was 3am and the group I was with wanted to hear salsa music. I wanted to show my new friend the view from this bar's window on the 2nd floor. I had taken a picture from that same window exactly a year ago when I came to Cartagena for the first time and that view has always been magical to me. There's just something about the smokey lighting that permeates through the Passageway of the Martyrs and finds its way to the Clock Tower entrance to the Old City that gives me a feeling of peace and happiness. I glanced at a woman sitting right where I was hoping to sit. She yelled something to her mate who was inside the bar and caught my eye. I did a double-take. "No, it couldn't be," I thought. "But maybe...?" I immediately turned to this new friend of mine who already knows more about me than you could imagine, and began to tell him that she looked exactly like this woman I had been communicating with about my adoption last year. I didn't get the whole sentence out though before something within me kicked me forward to just say something to this woman. 

She looked at me, noticing that I had been staring at her, and apologized, asking if I wanted to stand in the area she was in. I shook my head, and bent down to where she was sitting. I said, "No, no...it's just that I thought you were this woman named Alina." Her eyes lit up and said, "I AM Alina!!" I couldn't hold back. The same feelings that I had experienced for the first time last month came rushing back and I couldn't help but cry. For those of you who don't know, Alina is who I am named after. My first name, before I was adopted, was Alina Marin. I got Marin from my birth mother and Alina from a woman who worked at Chiquitines, the orphanage I lived in for 3 months of my life. Alina was around 20 years old when I was born and her position was similar to that of an Office Manager. She was the owner's daughter and spoke the most English of anyone at Chiquitines. Alina communicated with my parents via snail mail about me. 

As I've said in previous posts, my mom saved almost every single letter and piece of information she could from my adoption. Last year at Christmas she gave me a booklet of everything she had saved- pictures, letters, documents, case statements, etc. It was one of the best Christmas gifts I'd ever gotten. :) I started picking through the details and decided to try to find Alina Hleap by Googling her. I found out through Google that she is a movie producer and I even found her email address. I emailed her, hoping it was the same Alina Hleap, and I lucked out. We almost met a year ago because she was in Cartagena for the International Film Festival (an annual Festival that's in Cartagena now) while I was visiting for the first time. We never did find a moment to meet, which was disappointing at the time, but maybe it was for a reason. 

Alina, as she herself told me last night, held me in her arms the first 3 months of my life. She explained to my friend that she felt like she had been my mother those 3 months. Finding her meant a lot to me. I couldn't stop thanking her for all that she did for me as a baby. Without a place like Chiquitines, I don't know where I'd be or if I'd even be alive. Meeting her was like meeting my birth mom again. It was very emotional for both of us. She kept asking how I knew it was her. While I've seen her main Facebook photo, I really didn't know her face well. I don't know how to explain it, but it was the same feeling I got when I saw my birth mother for the first time- I just knew. 

The night couldn't have ended any better. Things just keep coming in full circles. I don't know where this path started or where it might end, but I'm fully enjoying this journey and I hope I continue to really listen to myself since it seems that I'm finding my way.
(Pic above of yellow brick road from Wizard of Oz) 

Twiddling

One of the reasons I decided to move to Colombia was to find my birth family. When I came to Colombia for the first time 9 months ago, I had the opportunity to visit Chiquitines, the orphanage I stayed at for the 1st 3 months of my life. While it was the same organization I was adopted from, Chiquitines has changed locations within Cali several times since then, so it wasn't the exact same building. Chiquitines is a wonderful non-profit organization that has about 34 employees (social workers, psychologists, speech therapists, nurses, teachers, etc) and 75 kids (about 34 babies and 41 kids aged 2-12). 
Before arriving, my mom and I had arranged to meet with the director of the orphanage, Agatha. When we arrived, she sat us down and began to go over my file from 28 years ago. Most of the documents I had already seen since my mom saved nearly everything from my adoption, but then Agatha pulled out documents I had never known about. I finally learned my birth mother's name, Teodora (Dora, for short) Marin. I also received her Cedula #, which is more or less a Colombian ID card. Her ID # is important because the government in Colombia uses them when someone registers for work. Agatha recommended that I hire a lawyer to help me look for her. She said that many agencies in Colombia that claim they can help find your birth mother may actually be telling random people to act like your birth parents, and adoptees would never know. 
I also got to read the case worker's summary of Teodora's life cerca 1981 and her statement on why she was giving me up. Growing up, many adopted children fluctuate between anger and love for their birth parents. Many of us never know why our parents gave us up, and some tend to focus on the negative reasons. I can't lie, I often wondered growing up if there really was a good reason- it's hard not to. My birth mother, Dora, had lived with a man in Tolima with whom she had 7 children (apparently I had 7 half brothers and sisters- 2 died before I was born). In the summary, it says he went crazy and left the house never to be heard from again. In order to help sustain her family, she moved to Cali to find work with 3 of her children (i don't know what happened to the other 2). The woman she ended up working for in Cali offered her a room and some money for cleaning her house. For some reason, this lady ended up telling my birth mother she had to leave so Dora was jobless (and possibly homeless). During this time, she became pregnant with me by a guy she saw occassionally. This guy said he would stay and help her, but ended up leaving her on her own (thanks, 'dad'). She ended up giving me up for adoption because she "wanted my life to be full of indispensable love and security and for me to have a good education (translated)." 

I then got a chance to speak with 4 ladies who were about to give birth and were planning on giving their children to Chiquitines for similar reasons. It was a total surprise, and I instantly had butterflies flapping around in my tummy. My words came straight from the heart so i didn't even have to worry about the Spanish. I told them my story and told them that I knew that my mother had been so strong to give me up in order for me to have a good life. I told them that I've had the opportunity to travel, play sports, get a great education, a well-paying job, and most importantly, i told them I had a wonderful family that has loved me since the day they found out I was coming. By that time I was crying while talking. I emphasized that I thought they were all so strong just like my birth mother had been and that they were doing a wonderful thing for their children. I told them that I'd never forget my birth mother and have always thought of her all of my life. I also shared with these women that I would like to find my birth mother one day. Lastly, I told them that I understood why she decided to give me up- and it wasn't b/c she didn't love me, it was the complete opposite. She had given me up out of unconditional, unselfish love. 
During this conversation, almost every single person in the room was crying, including Agatha and my mom who were standing at the door. I knew that it had touched them, but I had hoped that I had gotten my point across- that they were making the right choice for the good of their babies and that their children would one day be thankful and grateful to them for making the toughest decision of their lives.

So here I am, 9 months later, stuck. I've talked to people here who say they can help me find my birth mom and then they never show or take a month to get back to me. It gets frustrating when someone doesn't take something that's extremely important to you as seriously. Seeing my frustration, my friend Lizety said she could help me last week. Her brother works in the Secret Service equivalent here in Colombia. She told me that her brother could find tons of information on my birth mother or just her address. I opted for as much information as he could provide. While I realize this is a HUGE favor, I can't stop asking her if she's found out any info on her. Her brother has been busy investigating murders around the city so I guess i understand why it's taking so long...it's just something i've been wondering about my whole life. 

While i sit here, patiently waiting, pondering what I should do if I do find her home address, my leg shakes anxiously, my tummy does somersaults, and everything I've ever dreamt of happening races through my mind. These are hard emotions to deal with, but I'm lucky to have such loving, supportive friends and family members who don't mind listening to my rambling. Someday soon, I may be lucky enough to have two families to be grateful for- what a blessing! :o)

Happy Thanksgiving!