When I later discovered that the bed that was supposed to have been mine was in the home of Lili-ann’s friend and neighbor, Gunilla Sandström, my disillusionment did not help matters. It turned out to be Gunilla’s daughter Lisa’s. She was a year older than I was. Of course, I thought, the princess bed belonged to a white girl.
Lili-ann and Sture continued showing me around the house. The kitchen was unbelievably beautiful and massive. They showed me the living room, or the best room as it later came to be called, and I understood that they were careful with this room. I wasn’t allowed to touch anything in there. It was a room that wasn’t used very often. It was very nice, and if I’d had any doubt that my new parents were rich, those doubts vanished as soon as I saw the best room. We continued down the stairs and into the basement. Lili-ann carried Patrick for the whole tour. There was a big TV down there with some kind of device underneath it. In the middle of the room was an odd wooden machine. It had a zillion strings and colorful yarn on the strings, and it took up almost the entire room. I gave Lili-ann a quizzical look. She could tell I was curious and handed Patrick to Sture. I could see that he was growing more and more comfortable holding the baby. The last thing I wanted was for him to drop my brother on the floor. Mamãe would never forgive me. Lili-ann walked over to the wooden machine and explained that it was a vävstol, a loom. Why did these people have such weird, difficult words for everything? What was wrong with the words I knew? She showed me how you used the loom and asked if I wanted to try. I shook my head and backed away, which wasn’t like me. I was a very curious person and liked trying new things, but I didn’t want to give her the impression that she and I were friends. I already had a mother, and Lili-ann shouldn’t think I’d forgotten that.
We went upstairs and into Lili-ann and Sture’s bedroom. There were white walls, a white bed with a pink comforter, pink curtains for the big windows, and white wardrobe cupboards. The room was nice and made for an adult princess. We walked through the room and out onto the patio. The backyard was huge and the lawn enormous. There was a little glass house and a tree that looked prickly, and then a silver fir came into view. I’d never seen a tree like that before. Lili-ann and Sture led me across the lawn to the far side where Sture pointed to a big, white rectangular surface. I didn’t know what it was, but it looked like a swimming pool. I pointed to it and then mimed a few swimming strokes with my arms. I didn’t wait for Sture to confirm that I was right since we were rich and all rich families had a pool. I got a running start and was about to jump in when a couple of strong arms caught me around the middle and stopped me in midjump.
Sture pulled up the white covering, which was some kind of cloth, and then I saw that there were vegetables growing underneath it. He pulled up one of the plants, and there were tiny little brown tubers covered in dirt, dangling off the plant. It wasn’t a swimming pool. It was a potato patch.
I’ll never forget my first night in Sweden in my new bed. I remember that I was completely exhausted. It had been a long day with so many new impressions. I had mixed feelings. The new things were exciting, but also frightening. For every positive emotion I had, there was an opposing, negative emotion. Having so many emotions at the same time was overwhelming. Underlying it all there was a fear and a worry that ran deep into my soul.
That night, I brushed my teeth in our fancy new bathroom. I brushed my teeth with a pink toothbrush and Colgate toothpaste. Lili-ann had given me a white cotton nightgown with flowers all over it. It came down to my knees, and at first, I found it uncomfortable. Lili-ann had put my little brother to bed several hours earlier, and I’d looked in on him a couple of times. He was sleeping in a white crib in their room. I rinsed the toothpaste out of my mouth and washed my face, apparently something you were supposed to do before you went to bed. Lili-ann and Sture came into the room and tucked me in, and I smiled to be nice, smiled to show my appreciation and gratitude. But I felt like I was letting these people do things I was not at all comfortable with. It felt like they were taking liberties that I hadn’t granted them. But that was how life was and had always been. People took what they wanted, and sometimes you had to accept it.
Lili-ann wanted to lead me in a prayer, and she expected me to clasp my hands and fingers together. But that was not how we prayed in Brazil, and if there was one thing I had no intention of doing, it was praying the wrong way. So, I held my hands the way we did in Brazil, the way I did with my real mother, with my palms flat together and my fingers pointed up. Lili-ann started praying slowly in Swedish: God, who loves the children dear, look after me so young in years . . .
It was an odd prayer. I didn’t understand much of it, but I could hear the rhythm in what she was saying, and it had the rhythm of a prayer. Lili-ann and Sture said good night and turned off the light, but they left the door ajar, and I noticed that the hallway light was still on. After they left the room, I sat up cross-legged in bed. I brought my hands together and let my fingers point up at the ceiling. I leaned my head down a little toward my ribs, and I started praying, but not the new prayer. I was my real mother’s daughter, and I might perform outwardly for my new parents and do what they wanted, but here in solitude where no one else owned me, I prayed: Santa Maria, cheia de graça, o senhor é convosco.
This was the prayer my mother and I used to pray. I sat there, my legs crossed, tears streaming down my cheeks. My tears always burned, and it felt like I had gravel in my eyes. I was so tired, so done! I heard Mamãe’s voice in my head: Christiana, lie down and go to sleep! Everything will feel better when you wake up.
That night, I dreamed that I woke up in a big room that was light blue and looked fluffy. I discovered that the room was a cloud. Something behind me was glowing brightly and providing a warm light. I turned around and must have been looking at the sun, because the light was so bright, it hurt even to just glance at it. I covered my eyes and tried to figure out where the heck I was. My body felt warm and wonderful. I felt safe and loved. There was so much warmth and affection in the room. I must be with the cloud people. Camile, are you here? As soon as I asked my question, I heard the answer. No, Christiana, she isn’t in this room! The voice was warm and soft, but still imposing. I immediately knew that the speaker was someone I should respect, not be afraid of, but also not annoy. Where am I? I asked a bit hesitantly. As I asked the question, I knew the answer. You know where you are, and you know who I am. I saw a big throne, and I realized the figures around me I thought were people were angels. I looked at them and smiled, but they just looked at me, neither angry nor happy. I knew that I shouldn’t look up at whoever was sitting on the throne. Every cell and fiber of my being told me that I shouldn’t look up. But as curious as I always am and was, of course I looked up. I remember the power of the emotion: I was looking at God. God sat on the big throne. I immediately fell to my knees and made the sign of the cross over my face and chest, but the instant I did that, I knew I had ruined everything. I hadn’t received permission to look at God. I knew that, but I had done it anyway. I felt the atmosphere in the room change, and the sense of displeasure was strong. It was pressing in on me, and I could feel how it pushed on my body and penetrated all the way into my heart.
Christiana? Do you know why you’re here? You’re here because you made a mistake. You’re here because you made too many mistakes.
I’m sorry, please, forgive me! Tell me what I need to do to fix it, to be good! Please!
You haven’t followed your heart. You haven’t followed what you know to be right. And you won’t get to come to heaven and to me again until you do.
Suddenly, the floor I was standing on turned into a cloud. I began to fall and looked up in fear at God and the angels, but they were gone. I had time only to cry out for help before I plunged completely through the clouds. I fell and fell. It was terrifying. I fell belly down, past planets, suns, galaxies. It was so beautiful, but the horrible feeling of falling was so palpable. I was so scared. I fell toward the Milky Way and toward our solar sy
stem. I passed planet after planet, until I saw the earth. I fell toward it, fell through the atmosphere, and then I was surrounded by fire. I fell toward Sweden. I saw our house in Vindeln, and I fell toward it. I was panic-stricken. God had banished me, and I was going to crash and die. I saw the house coming closer and closer. My panic and fear grew. The house was so close now. I screamed with all my might, and just as my body smashed into the roof, a hand seemed to turn me over in the air, and I fell through the roof, back first. I can’t describe the pain. I felt my spine snap in two. My ribs were dashed to pieces. I felt wood skewering into my back. I screamed as I fell, and just before I hit the bed, I woke up, sitting upright in bed and screaming.
Lili-ann came running into the room. She ran over to the bed and sat down on the edge and asked what had happened. She looked terrified. I was in so much pain and couldn’t stop screaming. I felt the pain start to abate, but it still hurt. I screamed and cried, and she held me. I let her hold me. I was already lost anyway. What was it God had said? Christiana, you have disappointed me. He had said that I couldn’t come back to heaven. My new mother could hold me, but I was lost and unloved by the one who was supposed to love everyone. God didn’t love me. I calmed down after a while, and I pushed her away gently. I didn’t want her to feel like she wasn’t wanted. I really knew what that felt like. I lay back down in bed, and she tucked me in.
I’ve tried many times to analyze what this dream meant. After everything I’d been through up to that night, after all the new things I’d seen and experienced, after all the emotional storms and all the being lost, after I’d been ripped away from my security and my roots, I accused myself of so much. Children take so much blame upon themselves, and I couldn’t forgive myself. But for me, it’s not just that. My mother talked so much about God and angels, and I had heard so many wonderful stories when I was little. Since then, I’ve always wanted to believe that there was something magical in our world and that not everything was logical and rational. Isn’t it a miracle that of all the children who could be adopted, who deserved it more than me, and who had been in the orphanage significantly longer than I had, it was my brother and I who received this chance at a better life?
But back then, I had a long way to go before I could see that.
I prayed quietly to myself that night, before I fell asleep again. I whispered it so my new mother could hear it. I didn’t care. She wouldn’t understand what I said anyway, and if she did, then I didn’t care. I prayed one last time, and then it was over. God had abandoned me, so why shouldn’t I abandon God?
I woke up the next morning feeling like something had snapped inside me. I was broken. I thought I’d already felt everything a person could feel, but apparently it could get worse. Luckily, I didn’t know then that emotionally, things were only going to get tougher.
My new mother yelled that breakfast was ready, so I went to the kitchen in my white nightgown. The first twenty-four hours had passed, and I had survived, just barely. But I had survived. It was a really good breakfast. Lili-ann had made oatmeal. At first, I was skeptical. It looked like sludgy pale mud, and I remember that I gave her a look as if to say, Are you trying to poison me? Sture and Patrick were sitting at the table, too, and Sture had already eaten his sludge, so I assumed it was edible. I added sugar and poured milk on top. There were hardboiled eggs on the table, and I loved those. There were also ham, cheese, sliced tomatoes and pickles, jam, bananas, and a tube of something. The tube was blue with a blond boy’s face on it. I watched Lili-ann and Sture squeeze the contents of the tube onto their eggs. Lili-ann asked if I wanted some, and I smiled and said yes. If there was one thing I didn’t turn down, it was food. Lili-ann said it was smoked cod roe, and I took a dollop of it with my finger and tasted it. It was disgusting! I spit it out, took the water glass that was in front of me, and drank big, greedy gulps. Lili-ann and Sture laughed, and I thought it was quite funny, too. After I’d eaten some of everything that was on the table, and taken my finger and scraped the bottom of my oatmeal bowl clean, I was so stuffed, my stomach hurt. But that was good, I thought, because you never knew when you’d get your next meal. I left the table and went to my room and got dressed. I put on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Lili-ann wanted me to hop into the shower, but I refused because I was totally clean and it was completely unnecessary. It was weird how people here wasted water. Did people in Sweden really shower at night and then again in the morning? They must have all the water they wanted.
After I got dressed, I went into Lili-ann and Sture’s office. There was a globe on the desk. It was blue, and if you pushed the button on it, the globe lit up. I yelled, “Lili-ann,” but quickly changed that to “Mama.” It made her sad when I didn’t call her Mama, so I’d started calling Lili-ann “Mama” and Sture, “Dad.” I wanted to understand how the globe worked. Mama spun the globe a little and showed me South America and Brazil, and I could see Brazil’s name on the globe. Then she pointed to Sweden. She pointed to the blue that was the ocean between Brazil and Sweden and said the Swedish word for water first and then “água.” My brain went into overdrive. I spun the globe and looked at Brazil, and then I spun the globe again and looked at Sweden. Mama pointed to Sweden and said that was where we were. I looked at Sweden and thought it looked really long. I glanced at Mama. She was taller than I was. Dad was taller than Mama. And the house we lived in was big. I thought about all the houses in the neighborhood. I couldn’t figure out how there was room for them all in that little picture of Sweden on the globe. Then I looked at Brazil, and I couldn’t understand how all of São Paulo could fit in that little picture of Brazil. That was when I realized that the countries must be enormous, and the water in between them apparently even bigger. It wasn’t until then that I really understood that I wasn’t even in Brazil anymore but in a completely different country. The realization that I was as far away as I could get from Brazil and from my real mother made me start crying. Mama understood, and she held me until I was done crying.
“Universo?” I asked. Mama looked at me, and I repeated it, this time enunciating the word slowly. “Uuuniveerso?” Mama walked over to some books and took one of them from the shelf. She started flipping through it until she finally seemed to find what she was looking for. She set the book on Dad’s desk and showed me a picture depicting the universe. The picture was beautiful—I had never seen anything like it before, aside from in my dream the previous night. That was the first time I had seen the universe, and I have always wondered how I could dream of something I’d never seen before. Mama and I sat in the office for a long time chatting, well, more like attempting to communicate. It went better than I’d expected, and we were able to understand each other with very few words. Mama pointed to things and told me what they were called, and I repeated the words after her. The Swedish language was so bizarre. The words all seemed reversed, and there was supposed to be an indefinite article—either an en or an ett—in front of everything. I did not understand this en/ett business at all. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to which article went with which word. Even today, I occasionally still say the wrong one.
The doorbell rang, and I ran to open it. There was a woman there with a child. Mama came to the door and welcomed them in. They were the neighbors, Mama’s friend Gunilla and her daughter, Lisa, the same girl who owned the princess bed. We went into the kitchen, and Mama served coffee. As Mama and Gunilla chatted at the table, they periodically glanced over at me. Lisa and I sat on the floor, and she gave me a present. I opened it, and it was a blond doll called Barbie. She had a pink dress, pink shoes, and a pink swimsuit. I thanked Lisa, and we sat there and played. I had learned a few Swedish words, but my brain still had a hard time distinguishing between the Portuguese and Swedish words. I might say something half in Swedish and half in Portuguese like, “Lisa, do you want some água?” but in my head, I thought the whole thing was in Swedish. Many people came to see us in those first days. They wanted to congratulate Mama and Dad and get a look
at their new kids. I often put on music: in Brazil, my Swedish mother Lili-ann had bought me two cassette tapes of my two favorite groups, Xuxa and New Kids on the Block. I always put on Xuxa when any of Mama’s friends came over. I danced for them, and I had a few favorite songs, which I would always rewind to. Mama and her girlfriends watched me dance. They applauded when I finished dancing to a song, and then I put on the next song and kept dancing. Eventually, I so bored these poor people with my dancing that Mama was forced to ask me to stop.
I didn’t feel insecure where I was now. I wasn’t afraid of my new parents. But my security came primarily from within, from my heart. I had brought a small piece of my pride with me, a little part of my world and of myself into this new realm. I had my brother, and I needed to take care of him. I was back to taking things one day at a time and adapting to survive.
I had a responsibility and a promise to keep to the person I loved most.
The Information I’d Waited Twenty-Four Years For
2015
Today is the day I’ve been looking forward to most of all, which I’ve longed for, but also dreaded the most. Rivia and I are going to meet the researcher who’s been looking for my mother and my family. Today I will find out whether my life is going to change.
We sit in the hotel room, waiting. The researcher, Brian, is originally from the United States but has spent the last twenty years in Brazil. He lives here in São Paulo and is married to a Brazilian. I don’t really know what to do with myself, so I open the door to the balcony and step outside. Our room is on one of the uppermost floors, and I feel dizzy when I look down over the railing. I look out over the surrounding buildings. São Paulo is a concrete city, a city of many millions, a city that never sleeps. I step back into the hotel room and close the balcony door behind me to muffle the traffic noise from the streets below. We wait. I try to get a handle on what I’m feeling, but I shut down. I tell myself that whatever happens in the next twenty minutes, we’ll deal with it, the two of me, Christina and Christiana. Just like we’ve dealt with so many other things over the years.
Never Stop Walking_A Memoir of Finding Home Across the World Page 17