The story of Atta

Our beautiful translators and Atta.


We met quite a few interesting people while in Kazakhstan, one was Atta (Kazakh for grandfather). In Almaty, we met Atta quite by accident. One evening, Garrett (Nurlan) and I were sitting at a table, eating dinner while waiting for Bob to join us when along came an elderly Kazakh man. He stood not far from our table, dressed dapperly in a gray suit with walking cane. He was a obviously a war hero, sporting medals on his lapel.

All the tables were taken, so I motioned for him to join us. He sat down and started talking in Russian. I smiled and replied, “yanne pani my u.” (I don’t understand.) He smiled and slowly pulled out three hardcover books from his bag. He flipped to a photo in the book and pointed to it. It was him some 40 years earlier. He continued to ask questions while pointing at Garrett. He gestured for a pen and started writing in the book.

Fortunately, sitting at the next table was a small group of women who happened to hear my feeble attempts. One started talking in English. Boy, was I happy to meet her. It turns out this man was not only a war hero, but a university professor and a published author. He was excited to hear more about Garrett and his new family (which runs counter to how many Kazakhs feel about international adoption). He then asked if he could adopt Garrett as his grandson. Hence the name Atta. Atta was working on his fourth book and wanted me to write a chapter about our family, accompanied by a few photos. We agreed to meet the following night, same place and time. Our translators also agreed to meet us.

We spent the next day, writing our story and digging into his books. Who was this man? And what was compelling him to write another book at age 92? There was a small section in English that revealed his passion: the creation of the new super socialist society.

The following evening, Atta brought Garrett a special gift—a necklace with a bible pendant. He insisted next time we would be his house guests and that he was thinking of leaving his flat to Garrett. (Which totally floored us.) We asked about his children and grandchildren. He insisted they were well off and didn’t need anything. Apparently, his grandson is the assistant to the President of Kazakhstan and if there was anything we needed, we should just ask. (If we had only known this before our adoption process.) He then spoke of a dream he had weeks ago. He would meet a foreign family who would lead him to his seventh grandchild. His dream also revealed that this child one day would become one of the leaders of the new Super Socialist Society.

Who knew?