Home sweet home

Home at last! I would say that this is the end of the journey but it really is only the beginning isn’t it?

Before I get to the traveling, I must confess that any romanticism I had about the diplomatic corps before our embassy exit interview completely went out the door. Yes, I know, I fell into the Hollywood dream of a large columned building with the flag fluttering and Marine guards with such perfect posture that you would suspect some type of rod being firmly implanted in their posterior. And, of course, the ambassador would personally greet you and invite you to have barbeque or whatever tickled his fancy that day. But no, this was to be a day of disillusionment, a day when the diplomatic corps resembled—a bank. Yes, boys and girls, we went into a building that in no way looked like my vision of an embassy, but instead looked like any monolithic my-god-look-at-all-the-glass bank building you may have dealings with. It was especially surreal when every person we dealt with was behind glass and had that really bad speaker system, as if the person was talking to you from the inside of a whale, and there was also that one little slot that if you actually had to have any transactions with an embassy employee they could keep contact with you to a minimum. The only thing missing were the really cool pneumatic tubes that banks have. Don’t get me wrong, the interview was fine but I had to fight the urge to ask for crisp ten’s and twenty’s.

Our exit interview did slightly influence our travel arrangements. Our teller—uh, sorry, embassy employee, mentioned that us stopping in London would be a bad scene and we would not be let into the country to go to our hotel room. We all know what two small children could do to destabilize the UK. Our travel agent said that while it was possible he had never seen it happen, but Terri and I know that with our luck we would have been denied entry and have had to spend twenty plus hours in Heathrow. Our travel options were limited as the next same day itinerary to San Antonio was not available until Friday (not an option). So we decided to do most of the heavy lifting in the first day of travel and go all the way to Chicago on Tuesday, stay there overnight and then on to San Antonio the next day.

Our British Airlines flight left Almaty for our stop in Russia. Due to the seating configuration on the plane we had three seats together and one across the aisle. The flight was not very full on the trip to Russia, so an incredibly nice flight attendant, Lynn, gave us the row in front of us so we could stretch out. She also came around often to take care of us as well as dote on our boys. She also made sure we kept our seats when we got to Russia and took on passengers, moving some people to other rows to make it easier on us.

The trip itself was a mixed bag of good and bad behavior from the boys. Aidan had some serious whiney spells and Liam was cranky and fidgety as well, BUT, on a whole it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Maybe it was having a flight attendant who seemed to wait on us every couple of minutes that seemed to help. We had learned that our Chicago flight had us on standby so we were convinced we were doomed to being screwed over. But when we got to the ticket counter luck would go our way. Again, we got a row of three seats with another seat across the aisle. This time the flight was full so there was really no way of getting a different seat configuration. I held Liam during takeoff and Aidan sat next to Terri. It was no time at all before Liam was asleep—a state in which he would stay for almost all of the flight. Aidan fought it for a while but soon fell asleep, too. So the second leg brought us some peace, although Terri stretched out along the edge of all three seats to become a human railing to keep the boys from rolling off the seat.

Upon landing in Chicago, we breezed through Customs and Immigration. In fact, I was a little disappointed at Immigration because I was sure they would chant in Latin, read the Gettysburg Address or make some other official proclamation about our boys’ new status. Instead, they just said, “Here ya go.”—and we were done for the evening. Our boys had their citizenship—and really, after eighteen hours, do you really want to hear the Gettysburg Address? The hardest part of our first leg was actually getting to our hotel room. Let’s just say that a phone number misprint and a really muffled public phone system led to numerous calls about a shuttle that did not actually arrive for a couple of hours. We were completely wiped out, but our jetlag made it hard to sleep. We were up early and off to the airport for the last little leg of our journey home.

The last little hop from Chicago to San Antonio was pretty easy, with both boys out cold. Terri’s parents met us at the airport and after some major fumbling around we used our car seats for the very first time. We finally got to show the boys their new home that they had only seen in a photo. They seem pretty happy with the environment and actually slept pretty good for two little guys who have had their world turned upside down. While I may have celebrated my fortieth birthday in Kaz, I actually feel closer to 140. The trip was worth it and I know eventually everyone will be back on more normal schedules. At least now, Terri and I feel we have home field advantage.

So you think it is over now, huh?

Well, just wait, there is more. Terri and I will, in the coming week, be offering bonus features, including: lots of photos from home, an evaluation of our agency experience, the cast of characters, and Kaz myth busting! And look for all new features in the future as the boys find out all their new lives have to offer.