Photograph by Kathy De La Torre
The Sisters Bell: Nine-year-old Erin Bell (left), plays with her adopted siblings Dasha, 8, and Alena, 8, in their living room in Campbell. Dasha and Alena were both born in Kaliningrad, Russia.
From Russia With Love
Abandoned Russian children are finding homes with local families
By Sandy Sims
Late in 1997 in a remote part of Siberia, a newborn baby was found abandoned in a railway station. The nurses at a nearby hospital recognized her as Svetlana. She'd been born at the hospital.
On the other side of the globe a Los Gatos couple, Lisa and Patrick Vermont, who already had two little boys, were considering adopting a baby girl.
Eventually, Svetlana and the Vermonts would meet. But it would be a long and arduous journey.
Svetlana's journey was shaped by Russia's dire economic conditions since the fall of the Soviet Union. Poverty and its attendant problems of poor health, alcoholism, mental illness and myriad other conditions, contribute to hundreds of thousands of children either being left on doorsteps or legally relinquished. In June 1999, ITAR/TASS reported some 250,000 children living in orphanages, and countless other children living on the streets.
The Vermonts found out about these Russian children by accident. They saw an ad in a parenting magazine and, subsequently, found themselves sitting in an informational meeting through the Domoi Foundation. Domoi is Russian for "let's go home."
The Vermonts had considered domestic adoption. But they were troubled by what they had heard--friends on long waiting lists; biological parents taking babies back. "I would feel so vulnerable, like someone could come and take my child away at any time," Lisa Vermont says.
That's one of the reasons Campbell residents Lisa Mayerhofer and John Peard chose international adoption over domestic. "We wanted to have a child," says Mayerhofer, who tried, unsuccessfully, to conceive with the help of a fertility doctor. "We heard things were more certain with international adoption."
Russian adoption laws today are similar to U.S. laws of 30 years ago. Once a Russian child is relinquished, the biological parents have no rights. An abandoned child like Svetlana must wait six months, either to be claimed by family members or adopted by Russians, before becoming eligible for foreign adoption.
But, despite government encouragement, Russians are not adopting many children these days. This has put the government in the position of handing its children over for international adoption.
Photograph by Kathy De La Torre
Pet Project: Erin, Dasha and Alena Bell, who all attend Hazelwood School, play with their cat, Turtle.
Americans, today, are adopting more children from Russia than from any other foreign country. Last year, 4,348 children found their way into American homes, up from a scant 12 children in 1991. And many of these children are finding homes in upper income areas, such as the Bay Area.
In 1998 the Vermonts chose ACCEPT adoption agency to coordinate their U.S. paperwork. They filled out a form for the Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS) for approval to bring an immigrant into the country. Then, there was the home study, which meant several visits by a social worker. They gathered personal records, such as medical exams, birth certificates, marriage certificates, a copy of their property deed, criminal record checks, proof of employment, tax statements for the previous two years, a statement of intent to support the child and more. Everything was notarized and apostilled (special authorization from Sacramento for documents used in foreign countries).
Mayerhofer and Peard had an even tougher time getting their paperwork together because Lisa was born in New York, and John was born in Oklahoma.
"There were massive amounts of paperwork," Mayerhofer says. "It was a third-time job for a couple of months to do it all."
And, international adoption is not cheap. There are fees for the home study, the INS, the adoption facilitator's travel back and forth to Russia, translation of documents, foreign government fees, the family's travel expenses to, from and within Russia, payment to the home where they would stay in Russia, and a donation to the orphanage. The total can amount to $25,000.
The Vermonts chose Russian Adoption Facilitator Services (RAFS) in San Francisco to coordinate the adoption. The RAFS social worker showed them pictures and a video of Svetlana. She appeared to be a healthy and very cute baby. She even looked like Lisa. They started calling her by an American name, Danica.
The medical information was sketchy--height, weight, head circumference OK. The record showed she'd been seen by seven specialists and was in good health. Still, the Vermonts followed recommended precautions. They sent the records and the videos to two pediatricians on the East Coast who specialize in evaluating internationally adopted children.
Lisa Vermont says, "No matter how much research you do, it's still a leap of faith. In fact," she says, "it's the same with a biological child. There are no guarantees there, either."
Three-year-old Katherine Anastasia Peard, "Kathy" to Mayerhofer and Peard, who was adopted at 10 months, is talkative and social. Little is known about her background, except that her mother was very young and very poor, Mayerhofer says. In the U.S. Kathy has thrived, and participates in the same play group as Danica. Before she was 2, Kathy learned the English alphabet and numbers.
"I think we're the luckiest parents in the world," says Mayerhofer, who knows the Vermonts through FRUA (Families for Russian and Ukrainian Adoption). "She's such an extraordinary little girl. She'll go up to any child, and will want to relate to them. She's more cautious about adults, but she knows we're [her] parents."
Photograph by Kathy De La Torre
Blended Family: Toni and David Bell adopted Alena and Dasha from the same Russian orphanage.
Campbell residents Toni and David Bell took not only one leap of faith, but two. They adopted Alena in February 1998, then Daria Alexander, nicknamed "Dasha," in April 1999. In addition to the two girls, who were born in Kaliningrad, the Bells have a biological son named Scott, 28, and 9-year-old Erin, whom they adopted domestically.
Alena still remembers many details of her adoption, including the snow angels she made with Erin, who traveled with the family to Kaliningrad; the chocolate cone she had at the Baskin Robbins; her olive-green ladybug bedspread at the orphanage; and her caretakers there, Masha and Natasha.
"We were very excited," Toni says of their trip to meet Alena. "The orphanage prepared her and we sent a packet over several weeks before we traveled with pictures of her school, playmates and pictures of the house. She [Alena] had been sleeping with the picture of us under her pillow."
Once the family returned to Campbell, Toni discovered that Alena was very independent. She wanted to help her and answer her questions. But, Toni says that Alena had learned to be self-sufficient. It was documented that Alena's birth mother and grandmother neglected her, leaving her alone in their apartment for several hours at a time.
"She did not get the normal social things that kids in that [age] range get," she says. "She became very independent and handled everything herself because she had to survive. It's been hard for her to get in touch with her emotions."
To achieve that, Alena works with a psychologist in Menlo Park, who not only counsels his little client, but the Bells as well.
"He does wonders," Toni says. "He teaches us what to do."
Family Portrait: Lisa Mayerhofer and John Peard adopted Kathy, 3, when she was 10 months old.
Photograph by Kathy De La Torre
When all three girls are together, Alena soaks up everyone's attention and is curious about everything--swiveling office chairs, a tape recorder, a Kermit the Frog Pez dispenser.
"I go to Hazelwood," says Alena, who is in second grade and 8 years old, just like Dasha, although they are in different classrooms.
"And she chases boys," Erin interjects.
"And, um, I play tether ball and games," Alena continues, "and ride my bike and I like to play Barbies."
Dasha, on the other hand, is the reserved one of the three. She seems to understand the dynamics of the family, something Toni credits to Dasha's family history in Russia. When Dasha's stepfather lost his job, Dasha's mother, stepsister Sophia and stepbrother Yurislav sought the help of Dasha's grandmother. She couldn't accommodate the family, so they lived on the streets for six months. The children, eventually, were given up to the orphanage. Dasha's half-brother and sister were adopted by Russians, but Dasha was left because she was too old. In December 1998, the Bells heard from the orphanage, begging for a home for Dasha, who was about to be transferred to a larger, less favorable orphanage. The coordinator in Kaliningrad sent a videotape of Dasha directly addressed to the Bells.
"We didn't have plans to go back," Toni says. "But, we said, never mind common sense, this is about heart. The orphanage knew that Alena was doing well with us, so they sort of picked us."
On April 11, 1999, Dasha arrived in Campbell and joined her new sisters at Hazelwood School five days later.
There's hardly a trace of a Russian accent in either of the girls' voices, even though both left the country speaking, and even writing, Russian. The Bells have made sure that Alena's and Dasha's Russian heritage isn't compromised. They are members of FRUA, and they have befriended a Russian teacher with the Golden Gate Language School. The teacher visits the girls twice a week and speaks Russian with them.
The family has received permission to maintain contact with the Russian family that adopted Dasha's stepbrother, Yurislav. The family that adopted Dasha's stepsister, Sophia, however, does not want contact.
When revisiting the story of Alena's adoption in the family's photo album, the girls' Russian comes back as if they never left. It was helpful that the Bells, including Erin, learned to speak basic Russian before embarking on their adoption adventure. In fact, the biggest adjustment for the Bells hasn't been the nitty-gritty of international adoption, but the issue of the girls' sibling rivalry. Toni and David, both only children, had raised their son as an only child. Suddenly, there were three girls, all very close in age.
For all these families, every day is different, but their devotion and care for their adopted children never changes.
"I really want to encourage people to have hope in building a family," says Lisa Mayerhofer, who is discussing with her husband the prospect of adopting again. "This is the way to do it; so many children need homes. I wish I could bring all of them home."
For more information contact Domoi Foundation, 650.969.1980; or Families of Russian and Ukrainian Adoption (FRUA), 415.341.1596 (www.frua.org).
Staff writer Genevieve Roja contributed to this report.
Campbell, California
