Season II, Episode 12: Sweet Home Chicago
The alarm on my phone went off just when scheduled. DW and I awoke and make our final preparations to depart for SVO II (e.g., put our toiletries in our bags, take the бифидок and Camelbak reservoir now filled with ice out of the fridge and freezer respectively and install them in the insulated part of my backpack). Ashton Beau was still asleep in his room. This was another luxury of renting Pasha’s apartment. DW and I finished preparing to leave while Ashton Beau slept. That’s practically impossible in a standard hotel room. And six nights in a multi-room suite in a Moscow hotel costs about the same as the down-payment on a new car, or a turkey sandwich at Cosí.
With our final preparations finished, we woke up Ashton Beau, dressed him, and prepared him and all of his gear to leave too. Pasha arrived at 4:30 AM as scheduled. Pasha and I carried our gear down the four flights of steps to the ground level – one of the not so luxurious features of staying in a private apartment instead of a hotel. But at least we were descending the stairs this time.
We went outside into a dense fog and loaded the car. One of the good things about leaving at 4:30 AM is that the streets are clear of the usual Moscow traffic. We arrived at SVO II in less than 30 minutes. We pulled up in the driveway in front of the terminal and stopped to unload. I hopped out and grabbed one of the luggage carts to move our gear on. Then DW, Ashton Beau and I headed into the terminal while Pasha parked his car. There was a first security check-point just as we entered the door to the terminal. By the time we got to the front of the queue to go through, Pasha rejoined us.
We unloaded the cart and put ourselves and our gear through the screening equipment, reloaded the gear back onto the cart, and went toward the ticket counters. There is a gateway between the rest of the terminal and the ticket counters. Only passengers are supposed to go beyond this gateway. DW and I turned to Pasha, thanked him for all of his help, and said fare well.
Before we got to the ticket counter we put our checked bags through another security screening. When the bags emerged we entered the queue for the ticket counter. There we waited for what seemed like for ever. When DW and I are together we always split up between two queues. We rejoin when one of us get to the end of their queue. Neither of our queues was long, but both were so slow I thought I was going to have to put down a stake just to see if we moved. There was a gentleman in front of me that just could not get things straightened out. In front of DW was an American family with at least three children and a dog. The Lufthansa agent just could not figure out how to check-in so many people, and one animal, all at once.
Finally my queue started to move. DW and Ashton Beau joined me when I got to the counter. We checked-in and got our boarding passes all the way through Frankfurt to Chicago.
While we were at the counter, two Russian “gentlemen” butted the queue and strolled up to the counter next to us. Those in the queue behind us were enraged. These two “gentlemen” insisted that they could butt the queue because they had "business class" tickets. That was until everyone behind us in the queue informed them that they had "business class" tickets too – “why do you think we're all standing in this queue for the business class counter! I thought for a moment there might be a confrontation – you know, “the NWA - the major leagues of professional wrestling” right there at Lufthansa counter at SVO II. I was relieved to see no nearby folding chairs or tennis racquets that could be thrown astray and hit someone in my party. Fortunately, one of the counter agents schooled these two “gentlemen” and convinced them that they would be better off at the end of the queue instead of on the other end of a rope.
All that excitement behind us, we left the counter, stopped in a low traffic area to collect ourselves and our things, and then headed to the passport booth. I took a deep breath and I prepared to hand our passports and Ashton Beau’s visa and adoption documents (e.g., adoption certificate, new birth certificate, certified copy of the court order granting adoption) over to the young woman in the passport control booth. I looked at the center of her forehead and handed the package of documents to her with a polite, but imperious, demeanor. She looked at the documents for a minute, stamped our passports, handed them back to us, and we moved on.
We headed to the Lufthansa departure lounge on the second floor to pass the time before our aircraft was scheduled to depart. With Ashton Beau in his stroller and no elevator visible, DW and I each grabbed one side and hauled him up a flight of stairs. With DW and Ashton Beau firmly ensconced in the lounge, I headed out to spend the last of my Rubles. Most of the duty free stores wanted Dollars or Euros and none I went in had the Russian Brilliant Vodka [Водка Русский Бриллиант] or Moscovsky Cognac [Московский Коньяк] I was looking for. I remembered seeing both offered at a restaurant on the second floor on our first trip. They still had both. With a few . One for our neighbor who watched our house and one for each of my twin eight year old nieces. I hurried back to the lounge. We did not have a lot of time before departure. I got the dolls and the bottles safely stowed in our carry-on baggage and we made off for the gate.
We must have been doing OK. There was a Swedish gentleman in the lounge that was on our flight. While I was out DW spoke with him. He told DW he was surprised that we were going home from an adoption trip. He though we were an expatriate family on our way home to the West for the summer.
Traveling with a baby has its disadvantages, but it also has some advantages too. Unlike the near body cavity search I got at the departure gate security check-point I got when we left SVO II on our first trip, they just scanned our bags and let us through the metal detector. The only inconvenience was removing our shoes, but we’d grown pretty used to that by now. The boarding queue was long but a gate agent noticed Ashton Beau. He accosted us and led us to the front of the line. Those two “gentlemen” back at the ticket counter should have brought a baby instead of a bad attitude.
We boarded, stowed our gear and sat down. Ashton Beau was captivated by the window and stood on my lap with his nose pressed against the glass as we taxied out onto Runway 7 Left. The pilots put the throttles forward and our aircraft roared east down the concrete. A minute later DW and I breathed a sigh of relief once we were airborne, wheels up and flaps up.
It was about a three hour flight to Frankfurt. After a light breakfast of real coffee, musli, bread, cheese, and thinly sliced pork, I nodded off for about an hour of sleep. Ashton Beau slept for about the same amount of time. The flight attendants were courteous and helpful and even gave Ashton Beau a Lufthansa rattle in the shape of a duck.
We arrived on schedule in Frankfurt. It felt good to be back in the West and see the ramp across the runway full of U.S. Air Force C-17’s. Our layover was about 2 hours so we went to the Lufthansa business class lounge. It was crowded with all sorts of people from all over the globe - everything from Danish businessmen to a family with three young boys from somewhere in the Middle East. The facilities and appointments were OK, but not great. Among its best, however, are the restrooms with baby changing areas, showers, and an unlimited supply of gummi bears and other German gummi candies. Good coffee too.
We left about an hour and a half later and headed to our gate. Luckily for us, we both arrived from Moscow and departed for Chicago from the “B” concourse; we did not have a long hike through the Frankfurt airport like on our way to Moscow. However, we did have to pass through an additional security check-point. It looked like all of the flights departing for North America were beyond this extra check-point.
We queued up at the gate and in the process of gate-checking Ashton Beau’s stroller and confirming that our seats were prepared for the baby bassinet, DW forgot the bag with all of Ashton Beau’s diaper gear in it as we boarded. In all the excitement we had forgot to count off the bags before going down the jet way. DW noticed the missing diaper bag as we stowed our luggage in the overhead bins and I sprinted back to the gate to retrieve the diaper bag. It was right by the gate. I grabbed it and hurried back to the aircraft.
In our seats we settled down and waited to push back and take off. The aircraft was not crowded and everything went smoothly. We were lucky so far, the change in aircraft cabin pressure as we ascended and descended did not bother Ashton Beau’s ears.
About 30-45 minutes after take-off, one of the flight attendants opened the overhead storage area and took down the bassinet components. He assembled it on the bulkhead in front of DW. Ashton Beau got in, Ashton Beau got out. We put a blanket over the top of the bassinet trying to make it dark and subdued enough for him to go to sleep. All to no avail! We flew for nine hours from Frankfurt to Chicago and Ashton Beau did not sleep a wink. But the bassinet was a fun place to play and he was pretty well behaved and quiet throughout our flight. The little girl (I think about four) in the row behind us and the flight attendants kept him entertained with extra attention.
We landed in Chicago and taxied to Terminal 5. We deplaned and then waited at the top of the jet way for Ashton Beau stroller. We were among the first off the aircraft, but by the time the stroller arrived, we were among the last to leave the jet way. We lined up in the passport control queue and waited our turn. The gentleman in the booth took all of our passports and Ashton Beau’s visa package. He returned the passports and then instructed us to stand to the side and wait, someone would be with us in a moment regarding Ashton Beau’s visa.
Within a minute another gentleman appeared and escorted us over to another booth. He asked us a few questions about Ashton Beau and gave us some papers (social security card application and passport application I think). He stamped Ashton Beau passport and said the stamp was his proof of U.S. citizenship until he received his U.S. passport. He congratulated us and sent us on our way to claim our bags.
It took a long tome for our bags to arrive. The bags from our flight came out on two carousels - one carousel for bags going onto somewhere else that needed to go through U.S. Customs first, and another carousel for bags whose final destination was Chicago. Ooops, they forgot to mention the second carousel so we found it by happenstance when DW saw one of our bags go by on it.
Then we queued up to hand in our customs declaration card. That passed with no problem. Our final hurdle was an agricultural check-point. They put our bags through one more scanner and searched one of my carry-on bags. I guess the government wants to ensure we were not bringing any fruit flies or mad cow disease hamburger back with us.
Finally we emerged into the terminal. We decided to return quietly and told friends and relatives not to meet us at the airport. Instead, DW’s friend, also our neighbor, Linda drove our car to the airport to pick us up. At first we could not find Linda. And she is one of the few people left in the Chicago metropolitan area without a mobile phone. She was waiting for us by a different exit from the passport and customs area. DW found her. We snapped a few photos, she "oohed and ahhhed" over Ashton Beau and were ready to drive home.
We walked out into the car park, loaded up the car, and put Ashton Beau in his car seat for the first time. We all wondered how he would react to the car seat. No problem. Half way home he was asleep. DW and I were both tired and Linda drove. I tapped out an e-mail on my Blackberry to our agency and families that we were back in Chicago and would be home soon. The drive from O’Hare to our house is less than 30 minutes.
DW’s parents had dropped by our house to drop off food and some extra bottle nipples before we arrived home. They were still there when we arrived. We pulled in the driveway and got out of the car. Linda had put up a big “Welcome Home Ashton” sign with balloons on our front lawn. I shot some photos of DW and Ashton Beau getting out of the car. DW’s parents welcomed us home and of course were quite interested in their new grandson. I greeted everyone and then got to work unloading the car.
We snapped some photos of all of us and I took Ashton Beau up to see his room and put him in his crib just so he could check it out. Wishing to remain unobtrusive, Linda and DW’s parents left for their respective homes about 20 minutes later. Then, at 2:30 PM on a Wednesday afternoon, after 18 months, countless papers, notorial acknowledgements, apostilles, finger printings, two trips to Russia including Moscow, Ulyanovsk, and Orenburg our journey came to a happy, though I must confess, anti-climactic, end - just the way I hoped it would.
DW and Ashton Beau waiting in the queue at the Lufthansa counter at SVO II.
With our final preparations finished, we woke up Ashton Beau, dressed him, and prepared him and all of his gear to leave too. Pasha arrived at 4:30 AM as scheduled. Pasha and I carried our gear down the four flights of steps to the ground level – one of the not so luxurious features of staying in a private apartment instead of a hotel. But at least we were descending the stairs this time.
We went outside into a dense fog and loaded the car. One of the good things about leaving at 4:30 AM is that the streets are clear of the usual Moscow traffic. We arrived at SVO II in less than 30 minutes. We pulled up in the driveway in front of the terminal and stopped to unload. I hopped out and grabbed one of the luggage carts to move our gear on. Then DW, Ashton Beau and I headed into the terminal while Pasha parked his car. There was a first security check-point just as we entered the door to the terminal. By the time we got to the front of the queue to go through, Pasha rejoined us.
We unloaded the cart and put ourselves and our gear through the screening equipment, reloaded the gear back onto the cart, and went toward the ticket counters. There is a gateway between the rest of the terminal and the ticket counters. Only passengers are supposed to go beyond this gateway. DW and I turned to Pasha, thanked him for all of his help, and said fare well.
Before we got to the ticket counter we put our checked bags through another security screening. When the bags emerged we entered the queue for the ticket counter. There we waited for what seemed like for ever. When DW and I are together we always split up between two queues. We rejoin when one of us get to the end of their queue. Neither of our queues was long, but both were so slow I thought I was going to have to put down a stake just to see if we moved. There was a gentleman in front of me that just could not get things straightened out. In front of DW was an American family with at least three children and a dog. The Lufthansa agent just could not figure out how to check-in so many people, and one animal, all at once.
Finally my queue started to move. DW and Ashton Beau joined me when I got to the counter. We checked-in and got our boarding passes all the way through Frankfurt to Chicago.
While we were at the counter, two Russian “gentlemen” butted the queue and strolled up to the counter next to us. Those in the queue behind us were enraged. These two “gentlemen” insisted that they could butt the queue because they had "business class" tickets. That was until everyone behind us in the queue informed them that they had "business class" tickets too – “why do you think we're all standing in this queue for the business class counter! I thought for a moment there might be a confrontation – you know, “the NWA - the major leagues of professional wrestling” right there at Lufthansa counter at SVO II. I was relieved to see no nearby folding chairs or tennis racquets that could be thrown astray and hit someone in my party. Fortunately, one of the counter agents schooled these two “gentlemen” and convinced them that they would be better off at the end of the queue instead of on the other end of a rope.
All that excitement behind us, we left the counter, stopped in a low traffic area to collect ourselves and our things, and then headed to the passport booth. I took a deep breath and I prepared to hand our passports and Ashton Beau’s visa and adoption documents (e.g., adoption certificate, new birth certificate, certified copy of the court order granting adoption) over to the young woman in the passport control booth. I looked at the center of her forehead and handed the package of documents to her with a polite, but imperious, demeanor. She looked at the documents for a minute, stamped our passports, handed them back to us, and we moved on.
We headed to the Lufthansa departure lounge on the second floor to pass the time before our aircraft was scheduled to depart. With Ashton Beau in his stroller and no elevator visible, DW and I each grabbed one side and hauled him up a flight of stairs. With DW and Ashton Beau firmly ensconced in the lounge, I headed out to spend the last of my Rubles. Most of the duty free stores wanted Dollars or Euros and none I went in had the Russian Brilliant Vodka [Водка Русский Бриллиант] or Moscovsky Cognac [Московский Коньяк] I was looking for. I remembered seeing both offered at a restaurant on the second floor on our first trip. They still had both. With a few . One for our neighbor who watched our house and one for each of my twin eight year old nieces. I hurried back to the lounge. We did not have a lot of time before departure. I got the dolls and the bottles safely stowed in our carry-on baggage and we made off for the gate.
We must have been doing OK. There was a Swedish gentleman in the lounge that was on our flight. While I was out DW spoke with him. He told DW he was surprised that we were going home from an adoption trip. He though we were an expatriate family on our way home to the West for the summer.
Traveling with a baby has its disadvantages, but it also has some advantages too. Unlike the near body cavity search I got at the departure gate security check-point I got when we left SVO II on our first trip, they just scanned our bags and let us through the metal detector. The only inconvenience was removing our shoes, but we’d grown pretty used to that by now. The boarding queue was long but a gate agent noticed Ashton Beau. He accosted us and led us to the front of the line. Those two “gentlemen” back at the ticket counter should have brought a baby instead of a bad attitude.
We boarded, stowed our gear and sat down. Ashton Beau was captivated by the window and stood on my lap with his nose pressed against the glass as we taxied out onto Runway 7 Left. The pilots put the throttles forward and our aircraft roared east down the concrete. A minute later DW and I breathed a sigh of relief once we were airborne, wheels up and flaps up.
It was about a three hour flight to Frankfurt. After a light breakfast of real coffee, musli, bread, cheese, and thinly sliced pork, I nodded off for about an hour of sleep. Ashton Beau slept for about the same amount of time. The flight attendants were courteous and helpful and even gave Ashton Beau a Lufthansa rattle in the shape of a duck.
We arrived on schedule in Frankfurt. It felt good to be back in the West and see the ramp across the runway full of U.S. Air Force C-17’s. Our layover was about 2 hours so we went to the Lufthansa business class lounge. It was crowded with all sorts of people from all over the globe - everything from Danish businessmen to a family with three young boys from somewhere in the Middle East. The facilities and appointments were OK, but not great. Among its best, however, are the restrooms with baby changing areas, showers, and an unlimited supply of gummi bears and other German gummi candies. Good coffee too.
We left about an hour and a half later and headed to our gate. Luckily for us, we both arrived from Moscow and departed for Chicago from the “B” concourse; we did not have a long hike through the Frankfurt airport like on our way to Moscow. However, we did have to pass through an additional security check-point. It looked like all of the flights departing for North America were beyond this extra check-point.
We queued up at the gate and in the process of gate-checking Ashton Beau’s stroller and confirming that our seats were prepared for the baby bassinet, DW forgot the bag with all of Ashton Beau’s diaper gear in it as we boarded. In all the excitement we had forgot to count off the bags before going down the jet way. DW noticed the missing diaper bag as we stowed our luggage in the overhead bins and I sprinted back to the gate to retrieve the diaper bag. It was right by the gate. I grabbed it and hurried back to the aircraft.
In our seats we settled down and waited to push back and take off. The aircraft was not crowded and everything went smoothly. We were lucky so far, the change in aircraft cabin pressure as we ascended and descended did not bother Ashton Beau’s ears.
About 30-45 minutes after take-off, one of the flight attendants opened the overhead storage area and took down the bassinet components. He assembled it on the bulkhead in front of DW. Ashton Beau got in, Ashton Beau got out. We put a blanket over the top of the bassinet trying to make it dark and subdued enough for him to go to sleep. All to no avail! We flew for nine hours from Frankfurt to Chicago and Ashton Beau did not sleep a wink. But the bassinet was a fun place to play and he was pretty well behaved and quiet throughout our flight. The little girl (I think about four) in the row behind us and the flight attendants kept him entertained with extra attention.
We landed in Chicago and taxied to Terminal 5. We deplaned and then waited at the top of the jet way for Ashton Beau stroller. We were among the first off the aircraft, but by the time the stroller arrived, we were among the last to leave the jet way. We lined up in the passport control queue and waited our turn. The gentleman in the booth took all of our passports and Ashton Beau’s visa package. He returned the passports and then instructed us to stand to the side and wait, someone would be with us in a moment regarding Ashton Beau’s visa.
Within a minute another gentleman appeared and escorted us over to another booth. He asked us a few questions about Ashton Beau and gave us some papers (social security card application and passport application I think). He stamped Ashton Beau passport and said the stamp was his proof of U.S. citizenship until he received his U.S. passport. He congratulated us and sent us on our way to claim our bags.
It took a long tome for our bags to arrive. The bags from our flight came out on two carousels - one carousel for bags going onto somewhere else that needed to go through U.S. Customs first, and another carousel for bags whose final destination was Chicago. Ooops, they forgot to mention the second carousel so we found it by happenstance when DW saw one of our bags go by on it.
Then we queued up to hand in our customs declaration card. That passed with no problem. Our final hurdle was an agricultural check-point. They put our bags through one more scanner and searched one of my carry-on bags. I guess the government wants to ensure we were not bringing any fruit flies or mad cow disease hamburger back with us.
Finally we emerged into the terminal. We decided to return quietly and told friends and relatives not to meet us at the airport. Instead, DW’s friend, also our neighbor, Linda drove our car to the airport to pick us up. At first we could not find Linda. And she is one of the few people left in the Chicago metropolitan area without a mobile phone. She was waiting for us by a different exit from the passport and customs area. DW found her. We snapped a few photos, she "oohed and ahhhed" over Ashton Beau and were ready to drive home.
We walked out into the car park, loaded up the car, and put Ashton Beau in his car seat for the first time. We all wondered how he would react to the car seat. No problem. Half way home he was asleep. DW and I were both tired and Linda drove. I tapped out an e-mail on my Blackberry to our agency and families that we were back in Chicago and would be home soon. The drive from O’Hare to our house is less than 30 minutes.
DW’s parents had dropped by our house to drop off food and some extra bottle nipples before we arrived home. They were still there when we arrived. We pulled in the driveway and got out of the car. Linda had put up a big “Welcome Home Ashton” sign with balloons on our front lawn. I shot some photos of DW and Ashton Beau getting out of the car. DW’s parents welcomed us home and of course were quite interested in their new grandson. I greeted everyone and then got to work unloading the car.
We snapped some photos of all of us and I took Ashton Beau up to see his room and put him in his crib just so he could check it out. Wishing to remain unobtrusive, Linda and DW’s parents left for their respective homes about 20 minutes later. Then, at 2:30 PM on a Wednesday afternoon, after 18 months, countless papers, notorial acknowledgements, apostilles, finger printings, two trips to Russia including Moscow, Ulyanovsk, and Orenburg our journey came to a happy, though I must confess, anti-climactic, end - just the way I hoped it would.
DW and Ashton Beau waiting in the queue at the Lufthansa counter at SVO II.
More of the waiting passengers at the SVO II Lufthansa counter. Note the dog crate in the center.
The gate area for our departure at SVO II.
Lufthansa aircraft lined up at their gates at the Frankfurt airport.
Nungesser and Ashton Beau in the Lufthansa lounge at the Frankfurt airport.
A view of the River Rhine after departing from Frankfurt.
Looking out our window at the port wing and the No. 1 engine of our aircraft.
DW playing with Ashton Beau.
Ashton Beau flirting with a flight attendant.
Ashton Beau relaxing with DW.
Ashton Beau examines the bassinet.
Ashton Beau, not sleeping in his bassinet.
Ashton Beau, still not sleeping in his bassinet.
DW, after exhausting all efforts to get Ashton Beau to sleep in his bassinet.
DW, Ashton Beau, and Nungesser after emerging from customs and passport control in Chicago.
DW at home bringing Ashton Beau out of the car.
Ashton Beau by his Welcome Home sign from his Aunt Linda.
Ashton Beau checking-out his new crib in his new room.
DW, Ashton Beau, and Nungesser on the front porch at home.
posted by Nungesser at
9:18 PM
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