CA and I planned to get together once more before she returned to the US, and chose the Camino Real as our rendezvous. As I sat on the couch in the lobby to wait for her (the very same couch on which the President of Aruba sat for his interview), I noted a strangely mixed group of people on the couches across from me. A man was translating for an old mayan woman who was articulating information about baby care and specifications. A teary-eyed couple with wisconsin accents listend intently. It was the finalization of an international adoption.
Minutes later, the mayan woman placed a baby girl in the American woman´s arms, and turned away. Her neice stood to comfort her as she cried silently. The air was thick and emotional. I couldn´t believe that I was this close to such a critical moment in both families´lives. I was obviously missing a lot of details, but was nonetheless overwhelmed by a contradictory mix of thoughts and feelings.
I am a strong proponent of building families through adoption, and international adoptions are very common. Guatemala, however, has been red flagged recently for problems and corruption with adoption, which tainted my observation of the scene. While everything seemed legally and socially legitimate, I couldn´t stop thinking about what the transaction meant to the Mayan family choosing not to parent the child.
The child´s change of family did not make me uncomfortable but the setting did. The couple adopting the child were guests at the finest hotel in the city, and did not speak Spanish. They were educated White people, who will likely make great parents, but how did the older woman feel relinquishing caretaking responsibilities for this baby in an environment that catered to wealthy foreigners? She will always remember the child as a mayan person, but will the child´s life reflect her heritage? On the other hand, would her quality of life have been sufficient had she remained with an aged relative without the means to care for her?
My anthropology, social work and personal wires all got crossed that afternoon. I want to restate that I´m not being critical of any party involved, but I feel unsettled nonetheless. I´ll chew on it for a little bit longer, with no intention of reaching a verdict.
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2 comments:
Sounds like a very powerful moment. I can only imagine.
Having just been part of the american couple in that scene, I can attest it was an emotionally powerful and moving experience. Fortunately, most of our interaction with the family was in our hotel room, but even so, I was exquisitely aware of the disparities in income, class, education, culture etc as we met with the family who cared for our son since he was 3 days old. We all cried and hugged and cried some more. And I am forever grateful for their love; they will remain part of his familia.
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