Day Four: Shopping and the Despedida (Part 2)

The Despedida (going away party): After the mall, we rested a bit at the hotel and then made our way to the baby home (a.k.a., orphanage) for Camille's despedida . We had given Deborah and Darren some money and told them to throw a big bash. And boy did they succeed. There were at least thirty people there, and there was more than enough food for everyone: spaghetti and chicken from Jollibee, lots of pizzas, platters and platters of fruits and mangos. They also had lots of deserts and some brewed coffee (which was a refreshing change from the instant coffee they typically drink). Notice how there was no authentic Filipino food?

But best of all, we had our very own (drumroll, please) ........ mamang sorbetero (Ice Cream Man)! He brought his cart right into the patio area and served ube, cheese and mango flavored ice cream. It was a blast, and both the kids and adults thoroughly enjoy the ice cream on this hot, humid day. I got particularly happy when I saw the mamang sorbetero passing out free ice cream to all the neighborhood kids who were peeking through the gates in envy.Before we ate, Reg passed out little bags of gifts to each of the women who work at the baby home. It wasn't much, but they seemed pleasantly surprised to get individualized gifts. After Deborah said grace, everyone had an opportunity to say something about Camille.

I went first, and I had so much to say. I wanted to say how grateful we are and how blessed we feel to have Camille in our lives. I wanted to tell them that even though people tell us that Camille is the luckiest kid in the world, we truly are the lucky ones. Not lucky actually, but blessed. I wanted to individually thank each of the special people at the baby home -- Deborah, Darren, Joy, and all the care workers who have basically mothered Camille all these months. I wanted to remind them that TLC is a special place and that by working with these abandoned and surrendered children for the very little money they get paid, they are truly doing God's special work. I wanted to tell them that they are all angels on earth. I wanted to promise them all that we'd take great care of Camille, that she'd be raised in a loving home and that she one day, she'll graduate from college (Berkeley seems like a good fit). I wanted to tell them that although we've dreamed of this week for two years, it's turned out to be even better than we'd ever imagined. Finally, I wanted to assure them that we'd do our best to keep in touch over the years.

I wanted to say all this, but frankly, all I could get out more than three to four unintelligent sentences before I started to choke up. This was odd because I never get choked up ... ever! In fact, I've literally only cried about two (maaaaybe three times) in my entire adulthood. Funerals -- no tears. Sad, weepy movies -- dry eyes. Depressing news stories about terrorist attacks and hurricanes -- nada. Tears of joy -- what are those? Reg thinks something is wrong with me. I say, I'm a manly man. But today, there was no manly man in me because after just a few seconds of speaking, I got choked up and really couldn't continue. No tears, just choked up. (Maybe I should see a doctor).

After my ultra-abbreviated speech, Reg spoke (in Tagalog, of course). Here is a woman who cries watching the Ellen DeGeneres Show, yet she wasn't teary eyed one bit! She made me look like a big, fat wussy. It was the same on our wedding day -- which was one of the other few times that I actually cried. Reg walked down the aisle with a big (and beautiful) smile on her face, while I sobbed like like an Irishman who had just lost his beer money. It seems that on the biggest stages, my wife likes to make me look like a big softie.

Reg says she's not a public speaker, but she did a wonderful job thanking everyone. She made sure to point out that this must be a very special occasion, since I was actually "crying". (First of all, Reg, I wasn't crying; I was choked up. And secondly, did you really have to highlight my wussiness for all to see?). Reg assured everyone that even though Camille was moving to the States, she would be surrounded Filipinos in a very Filipino household, with lots of siblings, cousins and even Filipino TV (just kidding, she didn't say the part about TFC).

After Reg spoke, each of the caregivers said something as well. Many were teary-eyed, and one or two were flat out bawling. They all said basically the same thing -- that they will really miss Camille because of her wonderful personality and her love for singing. (One said that she'll look for Camille on "American Idol" one day). They said that they were happy for us and that we seemed like a good family. Another woman from the birthing home next door told us that she was present during Camille's birth and that she was both sad and happy to see her go.

After the speeches, everyone pigged out. Everyone seemed really, really happy. It was worth every penny. A big, genuine smile was plastered on my sweaty, wussy face.

During the entire party, Camille was being held by the various women from the baby home. When she was given to Reg before we left, Camille totally freaked out. People tried to comfort us, but we were totally fine. We understood and expected Camille to have some detachment issues. That's natural. When Camille wouldn't stop crying at the top of her lungs for ten minutes, Reg suggested that we take her out for a walk. Sure enough, she stopped less than 20 yards from the baby home. (Maternal instinct at work, I suppose).

We also received a "Life Book", which is basically a detailed scrapbook of the first 18 months of Camille's life. It was lovingly made by Camille's social worker, Joy, a college educated young lady who assists Deborah and Darren with the administrative part of the baby home. From what we've been told and from what we've seen, Joy and Camille seem to have a very special bond. Reg has made scrapbooks for each of our other kids, and now Camille has one too. It's so very beautiful. Joy clearly put a lot of work into making it. Thanks, Joy! Here's a picture of Reg reading the Life Book back at the hotel:
After the despedida, we had a quiet dinner at the Deborah's mother's home. Deborah's sister was there too. She is a big part in the adoption placement process because she is member of the small committee that reviews adoption applications and matches children with parents. She told me that she specifically recalled reading our file and choosing us as Camille's forever family.

When dinner ended, we said our goodbyes. I finally got a picture who Darren, who is quite skilled at avoiding cameras. C'mon, Darren, you live in the PI ... ham it up!

We went back to the hotel and relaxed. Another long day. Tomorrow, we leave Taytay and head off the the urban jungle.