Three Times A Mom

You may all soon tire of reading every detail of our trip, but I’m so anxious to record it all before these precious memories slip away, and this blog has become my diary of sorts. So, be warned, or feel free to navigate away.
That said, today thus far has been another incredible day. We had the great privilege of just driving around in a tour van all morning, seeing the place that in many ways has already shaped our precious little girl. Our tour guide (not really a guide, but the best English speaker at our hotel and a very sweet and knowledgeable girl) was so accommodating and happily stopped the van for every silly picture we wanted to take. Both she and our driver were quite amused at our fascination with the rice fields, water buffalo and local insects!
Our first stop was the local tourist attraction, the Cham towers. They are beautiful Hindu buildings constructed by the native people in honor of a 12th century king, entirely out of the local red clay. Set up on a hill, they provided a panoramic view of the entire region and a welcome break from the humidity. From there we drove to many of the local villages, piecing together every little bit of info we have on our daughter. A highlight was a stop at a pottery shop where an old woman dressed in traditional clothing formed a large vase before us. While the pottery-making was interesting (and the woman herself, who had a great amount of character), I most enjoyed watching the children who were watching us. As remote as this area is, I doubt that these people often encounter foreigners – let alone large white ones like us! We clearly stood out, and the kids were fascinated… or maybe they were just interested in the candy we shared with them. It was both amusing and sad to see how they clamored over one another to get to us and the lollipops.
We were only gone about 3 hours, but I feel like we did the best we could for Reagan. We’re trying so hard to experience and capture her homeland, and especially her hometown, but words and photos just aren’t enough. They will serve to help refresh our memories as we someday recount to her all that we’ve seen, but we will undoubtedly have to bring her back here someday to experience it for herself. It’s strange for me to think about how decidedly Vietnamese she is today, and yet how thoroughly American she will be before she’s even old enough to know or care. When we first started the adoption process I honestly thought that our daughter’s birth-culture would not really mean that much to us, but I’m beginning to see just how precious this part of her is to me even now, and to her someday as well.