SAN FRANCISCO -- Anfisa Luopajarvi's room is cluttered but cozy, filled with furniture, stuffed animals and knickknacks.
Her walls are covered with 17 posters of Leonardo DiCaprio. He was once her favorite actor, she said, but now she likes Matt Damon and Richard Gere more.Anfisa is not your average American teenager, though. The 16-year-old with a troubled past was born in Karelia, a northwest territory of Russia, and was adopted in a foreign country.
"I can say I'm Russian, but it means nothing. I don't feel like I'm Russian," Anfisa says.
Each year, more and more Americans -- single and married -- are traveling to places like Russia, China, Guatemala and Romania to add to their families.
Foreign adoptions have risen from 6,536 in 1992 to more than 16,396 in 1999.
Anfisa's mother, Natasha, was a prostitute. Her father, Genaldie Ovchinicova, was a customer. They did marry, but only briefly, before he left.
With no way to care for her child, Natasha returned to the streets.
As a toddler, Anfisa was often left outside in freezing weather to find her own supper.
When Ovchinicova learned of his daughter's plight, he got custody, and they moved to a "rundown, rough neighborhood" in a poor area of St. Petersburg, Anfisa said.
Anfisa's mother was killed by another customer.
Everything was fine with her father, Anfisa said, until he lost his job and started drinking, and the neglect started all over again.
So Anfisa ran away, seeking refuge at a church until nuns placed her in an orphanage. She was adopted after just a year.
Six years later, she has little or no accent, and the only evidence of her birthplace is a "matrushka" in her bedroom window. The handpainted wooden doll, the size of a soda can, has four other dolls inside. Anfisa will only say: "It was a gift."
Many children, especially the older ones who know and understand where they came from, come to America and try to acculturate too quickly, sometimes rejecting everything that has to do with their own homeland, experts say.
In Igor McCamey's room, the only evidence of his heritage is a couple of Russian books and a dictionary.
"They are not mine," he said. "My mother put them there."
Igor, 13, and his older sister Natasha live in San Mateo, about 20 miles southeast of San Francisco. The siblings spent 10 years in different Russian orphanages before being adopted almost 18 months ago.
Igor denies his heritage.
"I'm not Russian, I'm American," he said, still with a strong Russian accent. He pulls out a Pokémon collection as if to prove his point.
This is typical sentiment, Roszia said.
It is up to new parents to help the children find a healthy identity embracing cultures old and new, experts say.
Parents must also teach the children about their countries and encourage them to nurture their languages.
National Adoption Information Clearinghouse: www.calib.com/naic