978-1572305441

176 A MIND APART
were not particularly religious, they were not committed to changing
the world or to saving the earth’s children out of some sense of duty. Instead,
the sight of dying children made them think of their own death:
“I didn’t want to think I could have done something but didn’t. I did not
want to have any regrets when I died. Adoption was a way of doing
something useful. Who wants another one of us anyway?” Marianne explained
to me one day. The only stipulation they made in their own
minds was not to adopt a baby, because it was difficult to test for AIDS,
or a child with a handicap, as that would have been overwhelming.
Eventually they were approved for an adoption by the Canadian
authorities but had no definite plans to go to Romania. One day, they
heard almost by chance on the radio that the Romanian government
was intending to limit foreign adoptions. If they did not make a move
now, they might not be able to adopt at all. Within forty-eight hours,
Marianne was on a flight to Bucharest. She had to be there by Sunday,
choose a child within a few days, complete all the paperwork, and be
home the following week.
Bucharest was filled with North Americans looking to adopt children
as the government was teetering on the brink of collapse. At the
airport, each prospective parent was assigned an interpreter. Finding accommodations
was a problem as there was no room at any of the hotels
and Marianne did not have a chance to make a reservation from Canada.
Many of the interpreters rented their own apartment to the North
Americans, demanding rates higher than hotels would have charged.
The interpreter, a woman of slight build and old-fashioned clothes, was
kind enough to take Marianne to her own apartment in the city and not
expect these exorbitant prices. Marianne was shocked to see how poverty-stricken
the interpreter was; the apartment was filthy, the couches
were overstuffed and torn, light bulbs without shades hung loosely
from the ceiling, there were streaks of grime on the walls, the wallpaper
was bulging from wet spots in the structure behind it. Marianne was left
alone while the interpreter went to find a child to be adopted. Only the
mice scratching in the kitchen kept her company, unconcerned by any
human intruder.
After three days the interpreter came back and told Marianne about
a “beautiful baby” she had found. She was “gorgeous, very smart and
very intelligent. Would Mrs. like to see her?”
“Yes, of course. What do you know about her?” The interpreter replied
that the three-year-old child, whose name was Sophie, had lived