Angels from Near and Far A Resource for Adopting Children

Here's the earliest photo of the boys together Van is in front, Mak is in the blue shirt.

I first traveled to Cambodia in the winter of 1991-92. My partner and I were hanging out with a journalist -- which led to some offbeat tourist destinations --and ended up having dinner one evening at the Nutrition Center Orphanage in Phnom Penh. An American was leaving the next day with his new 8-year-old son, and gave the dinner as a thank you to the orphanage staff.

We returned to the U.S., but the Nutrition Center -- and the memory of those many young children, predominantly boys -- stuck with us. (In Cambodia, boys are abandoned at a much higher rate than girls.) After a year of puzzling over the adoption question, we started the U.S. paperwork. We knew the orphanage, had a few contacts in Cambodia, and got as much information by word of mouth as we could before we left. (We didn't know about any adoption agencies, and couldn't have afforded one in any case.)

Makara

Baby Makara

MAKARA ("MAK")
Shortly before we left for Cambodia, a couple called from Ohio. Through the grapevine, they heard we were going to Cambodia to adopt. For 2 years they had been trying to adopt a young boy named Makara. Makara had a cleft lip and palate, and the husband was a pediatric dentist: it was a wonderful match. But circumstances had foiled them. They had given up in despair and adopted a Vietnamese boy (with a double cleft). But after thinking of Makara as their son for 2 years, they couldn't simply abandon him. They called and asked us to consider Makara. They sent a photo --a little 2-year-old with a split lip stared forward clutching a Pepsi can. A tug from across the ocean. We had found our son.

We got to the Orphanage and showed them the picture. They said "Ah, Makara! He cannot talk, you know." They brought in a sad silent 3-year-old boy and sat him on my partner's lap. We talked with the madames for about a half hour. Finally Makara reached up and gently fingered the beads around my partner's neck. After two weeks I went back to the U.S. to prepare our home for Makara (and to work!). My partner stayed for 3 months before she and 3-year-old Makara were able to travel home on February 18, 1994.
(P.S. - Sad and silent no more, Mak now talks a blue streak, and he's a total cut-up!)

May 1996, here is Van on the Mekong near Gin Svay.	Van and His Friends in Cambodia.

Outside the US Embassy!	Finally ... the ride home

VANNARITH ("VAN")
Also at the orphanage was a boy named Vannarith, about the same age as Makara. They had both been abandoned as infants, so had known each other all their short lives. He had a mischievous twinkle and bright eyes and a delightful laugh. Impossible to forget. I know -- I tried very hard. Two years later, in May 1996, I returned to adopt 5-year-old Vannarith.

Van and Mak, together again, and now brothers.

Mak and Van, February 1999

They are 8 years old now and in the 2nd grade. They read, they write, they laugh and they love. I am so proud of them and love them so much I'm afraid I'd explode if I tried to express it all. What more can I say? They are the purest joy of my life. I wish the same for you.