For the last day of school, I borrowed something from Erma Bombeck, and modified it for my classes. I started alphabetically, and told Ha-Sun Ahn: `You are my favorite student. I appreciate your brilliance in grammar, your witty writing, and your hilarious speeches. Please don’t tell anyone in the class that you were my favorite student.’ I moved on to Ryan and said `Ryan, you were my favorite student. I loved your accents when we read out loud, I appreciated how hard you worked, and your insights on Shakespeare were unique. Don’t tell the others.’

By the third kid, I was pretty misty, and so were they. It was a remarkable year, and I’m very grateful that I had the opportunity to teach. As glad as I am, I’m gladder that a real teacher will be teaching the eighth grade next year. I’m moving on to other opportunities within the school.

One of our first opportunities was to get Jessie, the dog we had before, back with us. The reality of the coming and going of this place is that there are lots of dogs that are looking for a home. Jessie’s owners are returning to the states for good, so we have Jessie, the co-dependent dog, back with us. Last night JT and Matthew slept over at friends’ homes, and Jessie moaned so much that we had to let her sleep in our room. She can’t stand to be without people around.

A friend here adopted a child a few weeks after we did, and the harrowing process they have gone through to return home has been sobering and frightening to us. Unlike us, they are returning to the states this month, so they have had to accelerate the process, and I can only liken it to a go-kart that you try to make go 100 miles an hour; some things just weren’t meant to go fast.

In Kenya, you are supposed to foster care a child six months before you can begin the adoption process. Since they were leaving in July, they asked if it was possible to speed it up. They were told it was possible, so they began the process of adopting Reed.

In April, the laws affecting adoption changed in Kenya. The problem was that the courts did not know how to interpret the new laws, so they halted all adoptions. This meant that in the whole country of Kenya, no adoptions were granted for two months.

Keep in mind that the latest estimates of orphans in Kenya are now 1.4 MILLION children, and shutting down the courts for several months starts to take on huge dimensions. What it meant for my friends were dozens of trips to the US embassy, to the Kenyan court, to the lawyers to try to get the adoption formalized.

With a week to go, they were faced with the real possibility of leaving their son behind until they could get a court to schedule a hearing. Doing an international move is one of the most stressful things you can do; trying to do it while you battle the bureaucracy is the toughest thing I can think of. Someone in the court suggested that they leave their baby with someone and come back later to get him. Can you imagine leaving your baby behind? They are both professors at Spring Arbor College and were on leave for a year; they have to go back, but of course they couldn’t leave their son behind.

This week, they petitioned the court for an emergency ruling, and a miracle occurred. The court granted them full legal custody. But their tickets were for Thursday, and between now and then, they must get a passport, a visa and several other sets of paperwork before they will be allowed to leave.

Roger got malaria in December, and stress now tends to make him weak, so I volunteered to go with him today. First we got a tire fixed that went flat yesterday when he was in town. Next, we went to the attorney’s office to get the formal notice of adoption from the court. After waiting an hour, he received the paperwork.

Next we went to the US embassy to begin the process of applying for a passport for Reed. Next we went to immigration services to apply for a visa. We waited several hours, and the lawyer’s aide who was suppose to be there never showed up. We went back to the lawyers’ office who told us that the aide had not been able to get a ride so he walked to the immigration office. We drove back and couldn’t find him.

Tomorrow Roger still has to try to get everything done, or they will forfeit their tickets. This is not a wealthy couple; working at a small college does not make you rich. The cost to change their tickets will run into the thousands of dollars.

I know that any African country has to be sensitive to white people taking children out of its borders. What happened in the past is horrific.

But there are so many children that need families, and need them fast. The process will discourage so many from trying. It is a tragedy, and a stupid, needless one.

Roger’s perspective was helpful. All he could talk about is what happened the night before graduation. One of the seniors’ fathers took ill during a party for seniors and their parents. He died later that night. Leaving RVA is tough for boarding school kids; to leave and have your father die is so devastating. He kept referring to her, and I really appreciated that he would think of someone else at a time like this.

We begin the adoption process this month. We are not scheduled to leave the country for two more years, so we don’t have a time frame that is as difficult as Roger has. But because we have twins, no one can tell us a cost. I asked two different lawyers today the cost to adopt two children, and neither could tell me; they don’t know if they will be treated together or as two separate adoptions according to the new laws. We don’t know the costs, or the time frames, or the process. It’s kind of scary. The only good thing is that no one else knows either, so we have a lot of company.

Nancy leaves on Sunday for the states for three weeks. There are many emotions connected with her leaving. I’ve never been away from my bride longer than a week in 17 years, and it’s difficult to imagine being away from her for that long. On the other side, we are thrilled that she can see her dad and lots of family and friends.

The older boys have had one of their most unique arguments ever in anticipation of her leaving:

JT: No, I don’t WANT her to eat THERE.
Matthew: But it’s my FAVORITE.
Me: What’s going on?
JT: Matthew wants Mom to eat at Fridays for lunch, and I think she should eat at Arby’s instead.
Me: So you guys are fighting about where Mom will EAT when she is in the states? JT and Matthew: Vigorous nodding.

In essence, the boys are hoping to EAT vicariously through their mother while she is in the states. I’m not sure how that works, but I can assure you, the discussion was passionate. Both boys have made lists of items that they want her to bring back to Africa. JT’s list is so large that I’m afraid of her getting a hernia trying to lift it all.

And, of course, I must be honest. One-year-old twins can keep BOTH of us really really busy. When I think of everything that needs to be done, a deep sense of fear begins to rise within me.

Then I remind myself: I change most of the diapers, I give all the baths, I’m a modern Dad who CAN do it.

Then I think of earlier this week when I was on the floor with the babies when Ben hit Katie on the head with a toy which made her cry and so I picked her up but then Ben threw up and immediately began to crawl towards it to examine it so I picked them BOTH up and went into the other room and got a phone call and forgot about the mess and both managed to thoroughly examine all of it.

So, as a modern man, I do not face the next three weeks without my wife with fear.

But with panic.

Your pal

Steve Peifer