MIDNIGHT ALMATY KAZAKHSTAN

Twenty two hours have passed since we left home to travel to Ust Kamenogorsk, Kazakhstan to adopt our daughter. The flights and lay overs were long and we are all exhausted. We landed in darkness, which only compounded our disorientation. We deplane into an airport where we cannot understand any of the spoken word, nor read any signage. So we follow the crowd. We must clear customs and hopefully we are heading in the right direction. We wait in line and listen to the language being spoken. We feel very vulnerable, and the reality of where we are, takes hold. As we speak to each other, people stare at us. We are foreigners and it is very obvious. To say we are extremely intimidated is an understatement. As we are next in line we approach the booth. The staff begin to speak to us as if we will understand them. Their requests are repeated only now with an increase in volume, as if this will make us understand. I hand them our passports and speak in English. I hope for the best. Our pictures are taken and documents are reviewed and stamped. Now they just point in the direction they want us to walk. We cleared customs and are on the way to baggage. I ponder how we will recognize the people who are supposed to be there picking us up. What if they are "no longer available either". Fear and anxiety are at an all time high. We collect our luggage and again follow the crowd. Relief at last as I recognize a sign. Youngs..... Our driver and translator are here....
I can calm down some what. So far so good. We approach, we shake hands and introduce our selves. Bulgan our translator is a pretty Kazak lady with a warm smile and reassuring eyes. She explains we will be going to an apt for a few hours of rest, and they will return in the morning to get us back to the airport for the flight to Ust Kamenogorsk. We exit the airport building and walk thru the dark parking lot to a small compact car. We are 5 people and 3 huge suitcases. We will make it work.
Upon entering the car an older women is sitting in the front seat which is covered in a faux leopard skin seat cover, and there are danglings from the rear view mirror the likes of which would be seen in a bad movie. She is there to collect the final payment for our accommodations while in Ust Kamenogorsk. The crisp NEW one hundred dollar bills. Fifty five hundred to be exact. Anxiety and fear come rushing back. Is this really how business is conducted in Kazakhstan after all of the formal background and character checks we had been subjected to in the preceding months. Hand over alot of money in a dark parking lot in the middle of the night to an old women we have never met. We comply. She counts the money we had already counted numerous times before even leaving our driveway, which now is so far away. She speaks to us and we look to Bulgan for a translation. Bulgan relates that the money is wrong. The old woman says 500.00$ more. My heart rate quickens and I scramble in my mind for an exit plan. We are already at the airport we can just turn around and go home. I stand my ground and tell the old women NO! Money is right. Bulgan translates. She (the old women) makes a call to Nigmat, her son. Bulgan tell us she is calling him. We wait. Christopher watching our every move. I wonder if he can feel our anxiety as I motion to him to remain silent. A loud conversation in Russian occurs and then the phone is handed to me. Nigmat says 500.00$ more is owed. I again hold my ground. I tell him No! He should call Orson. We have paid the entire fee already except for our accommodations. He continues to argue with me. I tell him we will return to the USA, there will be no more money, and I hand the phone back to the old women. She in turn has a brief conversation with Nigmat and then speaks to Bulgan. Bulgan then turns to us and relates, all is fine. We can go now to the apt.
The old lady walks away into the night and we proceed to leave the parking lot. Surreal events to a long day or wait, is it night.
The ride to the apt is quiet as we try to recover our composure. Anxiety and fear have now joined us on our journey and will remain there always lurking in our consciousness. Almaty is very dark at midnight however Bulgan was able to reassure us that all would be alright. She then went on to say she would not be back in the morning if that would be OK with us as she had another job and was only doing this last translation for AIP as a favor because she no longer worked for them. She assured us the driver would be back at 6am to pick us up. We really had no choice but to trust her. The ride to the apt seemed like forever. We arrived by 1:30 am and were helped into the apt. Bulgan again asked if it would be ok if she didnt return in the morning. We said ok, as all we were going to do was go back to the airport and get on another plane. We thought we could handle that. She was sincere in her caring and this was evident when she gave us her cell phone number with the understanding we could call her if we needed her. Little did we know how important her number would be to us later on in our journey....