Imel ("ee-male")

We spoke tonight with Anna and Jameson's birth mom and their older brother -- both in Haiti in different locations (two separate phone calls) -- for the first time after two months of unsuccessful attempts (busy signals, error messages, phone number changes).  Becoming more comfortable with their English, the kids were more successful today than in calls three and four and five months ago with understanding what was said in Kreyol and translating some of the base ideas to Chad and I.  (For some months they were SO focused on their English that they "checked out" from Kreyol abilities entirely, it seemed.)  The content continues to be joyous, thankful, loving.  The calls bring a happiness to the children, all of the parents -- birth and adoptive, and the big brother who has looked out for them continuously.  The brother's work on his English is a real gift, as the kids have lost most of their ability to produce their native Kreyol and Chad and my learning of Kreyol is sluggish.  (Although, we've finally stumbled upon a great Kreyol program on CD by Simon & Schuster's Pimsleur, which our friend Ross confirmed as deemed accurate by a Haitian friend of theirs in Wichita.  Chad and Ross have each, also, found it a learner-friendly and very effective method.) 

Okay, I'm back to the main thread, here -- I typically prepare for our calls with a few things to say in Kreyol (on paper; it's rough translations with an English-Kreyol dictionary and a few notes on some of the grammatical structure; I've yet to start the Pimsleur program), during the call the kids translate back some of the Kreyol replies and statements from the other end of the connection, and the brother's English fills the gaps so that we can convey some substance in our calls.  It is an adventure nonetheless, as I'm not always confident in how much is received as intended or if there are misunderstandings or things lost/missed entirely.  It's quite an interesting time.  Birth mom is always happy, happy, happy, happy to hear all of our voices, and prays for us, and kisses the kids' pictures in the album we sent recently with a US-to-Haiti traveler, and older brother has the most beautiful laughter to his voice -- it's like a warm current washing over everything. 

I had, however, pretty much resigned myself to the fact that the calls would primarily fill the need to hear each other's voices, that we wouldn't really be able to exchange too terribly much in the way of new and detailed information.  Tonight, however, raised my hopes for more.  I made inquiry about the emails I'd sent to the brother, hoping that would be a way to communicate a bit more often and with time to sit with the electronic letter to decipher the message and then have more time to figure out a reply, whereas phone chatter is real-time and more challenging.  A computer message can't and won't replace live voices, and practicing Kreyol in conversation is priceless  .  .  .  but email will be a fabulous addition, AND on the computer I can send pictures of the kids to him!  A bit after our call, I got a response in my inbox from big brother that he checked "imel" and found the three I'd sent over the past months.  He wrote several lovely things to which I replied with some Kreyol mixed into my sentences and attached some "fotos."  What an exciting night!

Now, I await a reply to learn if the images got through nicely and if there's a way for Manman to see them  .  .  .