Against the week's background of need, and hope, and protest, I balance an incident from
Tuesday afternoon at the US-Russia Forum.
Most of the attendees of the Forum had
carefully skirted the situation with Ukraine, but one fellow put it
right in my face. One of the Russian speakers, Vladimire Kozin,
Professor of the Russian Academy of Military Sciences, said to me
during a break, that there had been a Russian attempt “to liberate
the Ukrainian orphans near Donetsk, who were being shelled, but we
failed to protect them,”
I resisted the urge
to let my jaw drop. “What do you mean?” I asked evenly.
“We tried to bring
them back to Russia to protect them,” he said, his face the color
of ripe beets and his shoulders in military line. “They were taken.
You know that there have been forty eight deaths of orphans at
American hands. (referring to his number for Russian-born children
believed abused in the US.) We were trying to keep them safe.”
I clamped my teeth
shut.
The topic of orphans in the eastern regions of Ukraine is
actually something about which FRUA has been approached about becoming
involved (more about that another time), but not from the perspective
he described. I wanted to say, “Don't you think Russia has enough
orphans already?” But I didn't. Instead I said “I think you may
have missed my message here; ninety nine percent of our adoptive
families and kids are doing so well in the US. And frankly, those
children are Ukrainian citizens and it is the job of the Ukrainian
government to decide what is best for them.”
He glowered at me,
and opened his mouth to respond but before he could say a word, a
tactful professor from Moscow University pulled him away.
The week held a seesaw of news. I had not been able to secure a meeting at an individual orphanage. Then my friend, Daria Danilova, a young and
influential Russian journalist (who visited my home in Denver for
dinner last December while in the US as a guest of our State Dept) arranged for
me to meet Vladimir Petrosyan, Head of the Department of Social Welfare of
Moscow. I was delighted; he is in charge of all Moscow's orphanages
and if there is ever a chance to begin to change the impression of
western adoptive families, he would be it.
Then, the day before we
are to meet, he suddenly decides he cannot meet me without proper
“diligence.” He requests credentials, an agenda, the purpose of
my visit. I comply and hear nothing. By Friday, the day of my
departure I take matters into my own hands. If he won't meet me; I'll
go to him. I take my packet of materials about FRUA, arrange a cab to
Moscow City Hall, and proceed to find the Office of Social Welfare.
I find it, but am told he is not there. “That's fine,” I say handing over the FRUA packet.
“But here is information about our adoptive families." Russia want's
information about the success of our families and now you have some
here. I hope Mr. Petrosyan will meet with me next time.”
I get back in
the cab and go to the airport. But this is not the end of the story.
You see, Moscow is doing something very major with its orphanages. All of them. They are being turned into "social family" homes.
It was explained to me that half the
children in every Moscow orphanage are being shipped out to country
orphanages, to be warehoused. I cannot imagine that overcrowding, or
the confusion of where and why they are moving. Those who remain are
about to become “social families” of seven to nine children,
sorted into age-ranges, then into social family apartments in the remodeled
orphanages; complete with a weekday “mother” and a “weekend
mother.” Now I know people sometimes joke that none of us get to pick
our families, but this is something else. These kids truly are
the luckier ones among Russia's orphans...but what about the ones shipped
to the country? Of course, Moscow gets to say that it has reduced
the population in Moscow orphanages by half.
Against this
backdrop, the Kremlin held a massive rally on Red Square that week; a
celebration of Russian “Big Families.” I missed the actual event
hosted by President Putin, but for days after on Red Square, they were
taking down the the massive stadium scaffolding and young Russian families
wandered about pushing baby carriages and holding the hands of multiple children. To complete the celebration,
GUM Department store on Red Square was holding a major exhibition
celebrating Soviet autos. I'm no expert on the square, squat,
notoriously capricious transportation of that era, but nostalgia for
all things Soviet is in the air.
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