This was supposed to be the easy part …

Hi everybody.

We’re feeling pretty darn grumpy over here in Malawi at the moment.

New delays. Unexpected frustrations. General we’ve-so-had-it-with-all-the-bullshiteness.

Yesterday, we awoke at 4 a.m. in Blantyre, packed overnight bags and hopped in the SUV with our driver, James No. 2, at 5 a.m. to drive five hours north to Lilongwe to appear at the U.S. Embassy for what we thought was the final step in our adoption process/immigrant visa application process to get our son back to the Shire (read: beautiful Laguna Beach, our beloved home and community.)

The plan was to appear at the US Embassy for what we believed was our last step – the adjudication of our adoption case by the US and the processing of Vasco’s immigrant visa to reenter the States (he automatically becomes a naturalized US citizen as soon as he walks out of customs at LAX) and then, as we could not make the Saturday flight from Malawi to Jo-burg,  perhaps head to Lake Malawi for couple of days to unwind, look at the lake, swim in the pool and read a few books.

As you might have guessed by now, that’s not what went down.

Last week, when we met with the U.S. Consul Peter Ganser, we came away believing that when we got Vasco’s new birth certificate and new Malawi passport, with his new names and new, more accurate birth dates (the birth certificate and passport had to match), we would return to Lilongwe, meet one last time with Ganser, have our case officially adjudicated and be able to come home on the next flight we could book, which already was a week later than we had expected. Before we left for Lilongwe this week, Maury spent a day changing our flights on South Africa Airways and Emirates Air to the tune of about $2,000. Some of you know the horror story of our experience with Emirates before we left and how thoroughly gruesome the 16-hour flight from LA to Dubai was for us, so handing them another $1,500 was galling. But, we told ourselves, it’s only money. We can make more. We just want to get our boy home.

Last week, Ganser, who has been until now a lovely and helpful man and is an adoptive father of two to boot, told us that he’d need to do his “due diligence” in the intervening time between our meeting last week and this week, checking with Vasco’s family (his Uncle Mavuto, the one who speaks English sort of, mostly) to make sure that Vasco’s biological parents were indeed deceased. I sent him Mavuto’s mobile phone number on Monday. Ganser said he’d call. So you can imagine our surprise when we stood on the other side of the bullet-proof glass from Ganser and heard him say something to the effect of, “Ok. Your paperwork looks all set. Now I just have to do my own investigation – due diligence. I have to speak to Mavuto and to any other living relative (that would be Aunt Esme who speaks about three words of English, a little Chichewa and mostly the obscure Yawo dialect) and … this part is particularly enraging – Mac – the sociopath and pathological liar who traveled with Vasco to Chicago and stayed with us for six of the longest weeks of our lives before we put him on a plane back to Malawi (at Ganser’s behest.)

Some of you know the story of Mac and what a problematic human being he turned out to be. He lied about just about everything, including much of Vasco’s biography; embezzled about $7,000 from the charitable trust set up for Vasco’s care by the Chicago Sun-Times (we sent him money for various expenses – doctors, vitamins, medication, a new tv, a puppy for Vasco, etc. – from the trust funds and he basically drank most of it. No tv. No puppy. We’re still not really sure where Vasco was actually living before he came to Chicago last year as it was not with Mac. Mac’s awful wife Susan had thrown Vasco out of their apartment.)  Ganser is also the one who yanked Mac’s visa to the US at the last minute last spring after an American missionary accused him of stealing money – something like $10,000 kwacha, which is a couple hundred bucks.) We worked closely with Ganser to get Vasco and, yes, Mac to the States for Vasco’s life saving surgery. Ganser released Mac’s visa under duress and with the understanding on our part that if Mac was any problem we were to put him on the first plane back to Blantyre.

So what the hell? Why in the world would Ganser have to “check” with Mac now to do “due diligence” in Vasco’s immigration case? We are Vasco’s legal parents by decision and decree of the Malawi High Court. Even before that, we were Vasco’s legal guardians in Malawi – since last fall.

Maury and I were so flummoxed by what Ganser was saying to us – and the news that we’d have to return to Lilongwe not once but two more times before we could leave for the States – that we stood there gape-mouthed like a couple of bumpkins rather than the well-connected, well-clouted, veteran journalists that we are. We were wearing our parent hats. And it wasn’t until we got back out to the SUV, with Vasco totally confused and angry with us that we couldn’t leave for LA on Wednesday as planned, and began our five-hour trip back to Blantyre, that it hit us – the magnitude of the bullshit that we had just been handed by this diplomat. Adding insult to injury, our driver told us that the SUV was almost out of diesel fuel and the button that accessed the auxiliary tank full of diesel was broken. We spent two hours looking for fuel and finding none in the Malawi capital, wound up literally a back alley of a black-market diesel dealer (who was also out) while five guys spent an hour hand siphoning diesel out of the auxiliary tank, pumping it into plastic containers and pouring it back into the main tank. We then drove 100km before we found a station that had diesel. You know you’re in a third world country when …)

This was supposed to be the easy part. The hard part – getting Malawi to grant the first international adoption to an American family since Madonnna got her daughter Mercy out last year – was done. We just need his immigrant visa and for the US to give the nod on the adoption.

What the hell? Are we suddenly dodgy? Is there some moral turpitude that has surfaced calling our character into question? If that’s the case, then what in the world have we done that could top anything Madonna has done in her 25 years in the public spotlight? Last time I checked, I hadn’t published any nude pictures of myself in a hard-bound, foil-wrapped package. I’m not running Madonna down in saying this. I am forever grateful to her for opening the doors to international adoption. Without her and her persistence in challenging ancient and ridiculous Malawi case law, we would not have been able to adopt Vasco. For that, we are forever grateful. It’s just that, I mean, jeeez. If they approved Madonna’s adoptions TWICE, what the hell is the hold up with us?

We’re livid. We’re exhausted. We’re trying to figure out what to do next.

Before we left California, we alerted Senators Dick Durbin (he was helpful in getting Vasco to the States last year) and our new senators in California – Barbara Boxer and Diane Feinstein, about our trip and the background of Vasco’s story, etc., just to give them all a head’s up IN CASE something went awry.

We’re wondering if now is the time to call “awry!” Will that speed the plow or only make Ganser slow down further? Do we reach out to the Obama administration directly? We do have the contacts to do it. Do we wait until Monday to see what Ganser has to say for himself, or do we make a move today or Sunday to put pressure on him to stop farting around and process our applications without further dilly-dallying?

At this point, we will have to rebook our flights AGAIN for next Saturday. Mind you, we have to fly through Johannesburg and there’s this little thing called the World Cup that started, oh, YESTERDAY.

Pray for us. I’m angrier than I think I’ve ever been about anything. My Irish is flying off the top of my head like flames. I finally broke down this a.m. (when I found out AT&T had turned off my iPhone service and won’t turn it back on until I pay half of the charges I’ve incurred so far in Malawi – charges that aren’t actually due for a month and that I don’t have the cash to spare for now) and had a long, wailing cry. And then I fell asleep for a few hours.

We’re really good sports. Really. We are. But this is just stoopid now.

Thanks for your support and love and prayers. We will update you as soon as we know when precisely we are flying home.

Home.

There’s a word I’ve never loved or appreciated more than right now.

Home.
Family.
Haven.
Home.

P.S. If you need to reach us, the best and kinda only way right now is via Maury’s blackberry. His email isn’t accessible on it (inexplicably) but he can receive and make calls (most of the time) and can receive and send texts (most of the time.) That number is 312-208-0357.