by Nora Sarel
After giving birth, I went back to the shelter, but then decided I want to start a normal life. I wanted my child to have a home, and not an orphanage, I wanted him to be raised by his mother and not other caregivers, which is why I asked my grandmother to move in with the baby. She was happy to help. He was born 8 lbs. The labor was hard since I am small, and he was big.”
She suddenly stopped reading, looked up from her speech and told us she would soon show us the child so that we could see how beautiful he was. He rolled over both ways, steadily lifted up his head, and most importantly, he was healthy. She then went back to her written speech, “I love Bernardo very much. He is my memory of Francisco. Keep him safe from harm, give him a good and happy life, educate him. I chose you to be his parents, based on what Dona Arlete and Dona Anna told me. It is also important to me that you will raise him in Terra Santa, where my child could grow up where Jesus did. I would like you to promise me that when he grows up and asks to know who were his parents, you tell him how much I loved him and how much his father wanted him, and that he was the one who had chosen his name. It is a German name, since Francisco’s grandfather moved here from Germany. Tell him he was born to a wealthy and powerful man who did not live to see him. Tell him why I gave him away and explain to him that I couldn’t raise him although I love him very very much. As you can see, I cannot raise Bernardo in these conditions. My grandma is sick and there is no one to support us, which is why I need to work, maybe even move to a different city. I would have had to leave him behind either way. Protect him, please.” She looked up and added, “I’m giving you Bernardo’s birth certificate and these pages, so that he can read them himself when he grows up.”
We were shocked. We were not prepared for such drama, especially not a heartbreaking speech from a fragile girl who works as an empregada.
It was a bit awkward, we still haven’t seen Bernardo, and here she was, giving him to us. He hasn’t gone through medical examinations, yet she had his belongings packed in a bag. It was so quick and unpredictable. I thought to myself that we complained things were moving too slow and now, I had preservations about things going too fast, almost out of control. We haven’t even confirmed whether Nessia’s story was real, who knows, maybe she is lying and fabricated the whole thing. Maybe the translators were selling us this tear-jerker. Besides, why would she want us to call him Bernardo, that was the name Francisco had chosen for him. We had an Israeli name in mind. The name we chose was related to our life in Israel. We meant to commemorate Gadi, my uncle, my mother’s brother. Gadi, the handsome paratroopers’ officer whose picture hung at my parents’ house ever since I could remember myself. Besides, this baby was now our child, once his biological mother gave him away she had no say. Like a kitten, when someone else touches it, it can no longer go back to its mother who can smell a different scent. She then banishes it and he is no longer her responsibility. I had a lot of doubts going through my mind, but Dafne, without any hesitations, made the decision without consulting me. She stood up, and although she was tearing up, she would not hide her eyes. She declared she wanted Bernardo with all of Nessia’s conditions. Then, she thanked everyone, kissed little Nessia, who could have easily been our eldest daughter, and turned to take the baby. Up until that moment, no one could have suspected there had been a baby in the house. Only when Nessia came back with a wrapped package in her arms, did we realize she was talking about something real. None of the guests would breath, only Dafne spread out her arms to take the child. I wanted to stop her, but then thought that it was best things happened this way. Just as you wouldn’t have chosen your biological child, only lovingly embraced whatever came, with joy and acceptance. There was no point in meddling with choices that were made by destiny – or as Dafne would say “God works in mysterious ways.” When Nessia took the chubby baby out of the blanket and placed it in Dafne’s hands, Bernardo squeaked. Yet, he kept on sleeping in the arms of his new mother. She pressed him to her chest and inhaled his smell, making sure he got used to hers.
Dafne was glowing with joy. A halo surrounded her face like in a painting.
All was said and done.
When we parted from Nessia and her grandmother, Sebastião took two pictures with Dona Arlete’s polaroid camera. He gave one copy to Dona Arlete and the other to us. This is the picture that was taken in front of the red house, and this is Nessia’s speech, which I will translate once we get back to Israel – souvenirs for Gadi-Bernardo when he grows up.
When we took Gadi I couldn’t get a good look at him because he was wrapped and held tight onto Dafne’s chest. But at the hotel, when Dafne undressed him to give him a bath, I checked every part of his body and counted his toes. He is a beautiful wonderful boy. Exactly the child I have dreamed of. “I think God himself drew this baby’s face,” I said to Dafne who laughed, “I think so, too.”
Now we’re at the hotel. Gadi-Bernardo slept in the room next to us, and Dafne, too, napped. I can’t shut an eye.
Gadi would always go back to these pages, trying to overcome the geographical distance and the years, be there with his biological mother who gave him to Dafne’s promising and secure arms. Now, he felt, he would eliminate the distance of time and space. He would soon be in Curitiba, his birth town, where his fate was decided. Will he feel something when he paces through the same places as his biological mother and parents did? Gadi looked again at the picture Sebastião took, then stroke the letters Nessia had drew on the attached pages, like a painter. He smiled looking at the sight of her lipstick on the page. He hoped that it wouldn’t be long before he could read for himself, without translation, the things she had written. Gadilooked again at the people in the picture, his father, who looked so young he could hardly even recognize him, embracing his mother, dressed in white Bermuda shorts and a red white spotted shirt. She held the baby tight to her breasts, maybe still making sure no one changed their mind and take from her what she had just received. Beautiful Nessia stood beside her, dressed in black shorts and a white top. She really didn’t look like a woman after labor, Gadi repeated his father’s thoughts and focused his attention on the girl who birthed him, who looked straight at the camera. If he would meet her, how would she react? Although the photo was taken from a distance, he could see Nessia’s beautiful eyes, deep as the ocean. He observed the picture once again, as if he hadn’t seen it countless times before, Nessia’s grandmother stood behind them, leaning on the wooden fence, as if holding herself up. Dona Arlete stood out, hugging Nessia from one side, and Dona Anna on the other, both looking tiny next to her. Dona Arlete was dressed elegantly and smiled in success. It was apparent that she was running the show, already celebrating the deal she had worked on for so long. And what did Nessia get in exchange? Gadi thought and kept stroking the picture and Nessia’s handwriting. I will meet her, he decidedly repeated to himself. Before he closed the journal, he brought it close to his lips and kissed hers stamped on the paper.
“Give me the book for a moment,” Omri, who sat next to Gadi, asked.
“What for?”
“I want to read the part about Dana again. Remember what you promised her?”
“Of course I remember,” Gadi said while handing Omri the diary, “I can see it’s a best seller, Ido asked me to read it, too.”
“You’re the one who said we should read it. Have you changed your mind?”
“No, not at all. On the contrary, I think that friends like you should read it, especially now, in this situation, while you’re helping me. I just regret…”
“What?”
“I regret letting Tamara read it,” Gadi said, his voice shaky.
“Don’t you think about her, she’s not worth it,” Omri replied and began reading.
Tuesday, March 30th 1982
We woke up to a new day. I can’t really say we woke up, because we hardly slept at all. We couldn’t stop looking at our treasure with love and joy. We couldn’t be
lieve we won such a beautiful baby. The color of his eyes was still uncertain, but I think he will have Nessia’s. I hope I’m right. We found out our Gadi was a comfortable and undemanding baby. He didn’t cry for no reason. When it was time to eat, he would make a soft quiet sound and we were ready with his milk bottle.
We already called my parents, Dafne’s dad and her sister, Mika (Dafne’s best friend), Dafne’s office and mine – everyone was so happy for us, only my mother cried. At 8 A.M. we called Ori and Nili. We wanted to share with them our good news so they don’t think all we could was complain. We also wanted to ask how they were doing, but no one picked up the phone. Before we could figure out where Ori and Nili had disappeared, Dona Arlete stood at our door. We kissed her and told her we were content, and deeply thank her and Sebastião. She asked for the rest of her commission and carefully counted each and every dollar we took out of the safe. She did deserve it, and still, we owed Nessia more, and I’m afraid Dona Arlete would not give her her share. We decided we would directly give her a large sum of money. Of course, we don’t feel as if we bought something from her, but it would be a good way to thank her and help her stand on her feet. Dona Arlete explained the rest of the process we were to go through until we had the papers from the Brazilian court.
While we were talking, Gadi woke up and was hungry, we fed him. Dafne changed him every two hours or so, and when Dona Arlete visited, she dressed him in a powder blue onesie she bought at the Feira de Artesanato market in Curitiba. Dona Arlete looked at the baby and smiled. He looked back and smiled. The onesie made his eyes shine and Dona Arlete said she thought he would have the same color as Nessia’s.
After Dona Arlete left, we decided not to go down for breakfast, but order in room-service, we earned it, haven’t we?
At around 10 o’clock Nili suddenly called us and her ‘congratulations’ rang through the receiver and filled the room.
“How did you know?” Dafne asked her. She said that the receptionist had told her. “We deserve a congratulations, too” Nili went on, “we got a three-weeks-old baby girl! We’ll bring her over in a little while, I’ll just finish feeding her.”
We didn’t have a stroller yet, I promised Dafne that once the store opened, we would go and get the one she had chosen. Dafne wouldn’t buy it before we had the baby, she is superstitious when it comes to these things. But she did buy toys, maybe those weren’t included in her superstitions…
Dafne quickly cleaned up the room. She drew the heavy curtains and I felt as if a bright glow filled the room, as if we were in the presence of a divine spirit. I notice I have been using a very articulate language, as though I was a writer. But to tell the truth, this is how I felt, as if I could touch the sky.
After a short while Ori and Nili came over with their stroller, and in it was their baby girl. They were overjoyed. The real surprise was when Nili took the baby out to show her to us, it was no other than our Dana. “Dani, look, it’s Dana,” Dafne, who recognized her immediately whispered to me. She was so shocked she couldn’t make a sound. I wasn’t sure whether she was right because I couldn’t remember exactly what the baby had looked like. “Is she from the ‘Hospital do Trabalhadores?” Dafne asked. “Yes,” they replied together. Now I, too, was convinced this was her. “Did she go through her medical examinations?” Dafne kept asking with caution, not to offend the happy parents. Nili answered that at the hospital the pediatrician, Doutora Marina, had explained that yesterday the baby came back to the ward after going through serious examinations because they suspected she had a complicated disease. But now they were convinced they were wrong. We no longer had doubts; everything indicated this was our Dana. Yet, Dafne wouldn’t say a word.
Nili said that they didn’t fully trust the hospital, which is why they called a Jewish pediatrician, who lived nearby, to come and thoroughly examine the baby. We were happy to jump at the opportunity and asked that the doctor would look at Gadi, too. Although we knew, that even if, God forbid, something was wrong we would still take this baby and never give it up. When we proudly showed them our baby, we told them theirs was our Dana. They were shocked and apologized, saying that they would have never thought it, and if they knew they would have called us to come and take her.
But what mattered right now was that everyone was happy, we’re all lucky. We calmed Ori and Nili down and told them that we were happy that Dana was healthy, and they got her. We promised we would keep in touch so that we could all support each other like a family. Ori and Nili decided they would call her the name we had chosen, Dana. Dafne was ecstatic.
At noon I bought a stroller and when I came back, I saw Dr. Oppenheimer had arrived escorted by a nurse who helped him draw blood. Nili pointed us out to him, and he promised he would come back the day after tomorrow with the results. Then, he would give Gadi a full physical examination and write a medical report with his recommendations. Gadi slept most of the day and only after his ‘burpy’, as Dafne would call it, he lay down starring at his mobile, which hanged above his crib and played a soft tune. We flipped him over so that he could lay on his tummy, too. He inspected the pictures placed around his crib. When we looked at him, he smiled at us and we melted.
At the afternoon we took pictures of him from every possible angle, smiling, eating, in Dafne’s arms. Dafne took pictures of me while I held and fed him. This was our first day with Gadi. The first day we felt like parents.
We were learning to get to know each other.
Omri stopped reading. He knew Dana well. He had met her many times at Gadi’s house and knew they shared a deep connection. But only now, after he read the diary, did he know how strong their connection really was. Omri knew that Dana had asked Gadi to find a lead to her mother. He also heard Dana frequently say, “if you hear something, I’ll come straight away,” Why didn’t she come with us to Brazil, he thought. But he knew the answer. Dana was scared to face what she might have found. However, if she would have come with Gadi it could have been easier for the both of them, he thought to himself. He decided to keep his lips sealed and not question Gadi about it.
CHAPTER 11
The moment they got off the bus in Curitiba’s central station, and took their backpacks, they started looking for a pousada – a hostel that would that would be suitable for a long stay. Some passers by stopped their daily routine and tried helping them find a place, but each one pointed in a different direction, leaving them confused.
“Guys, come, I’ll take you,” someone said in Hebrew. That is how they met Liam, who was from Jerusalem and had been in Curitiba - a city which wasn’t usually a location for backpackers – for 6 months.
“What are you doing here? Are there other Israelis?” they asked, and Liam was quick to answer. He took them to his pickup truck parked on a nearby street. While he was enthusiastically telling them about the pousada, he would take them to and of his time in Brazil, three young boys came up to them, somewhat indifferent yet threatening, and asked for money.
“What are you paying them for?” they were interested.
“For watching over my car. That’s how it is in Brazil. Curitiba is not as bad as other cities. If I hadn’t paid them, they would have vandalized the truck, and it’s not even mine,” Liam answered.
“What were you doing at the central station?”
“I came to pick up someone two hours ago, I waited, and he never came, so I’m going back to the pousada without him. That is also why I have room for you guys. Let’s all cram in and go, is that okay with you, guys?”
“Okay” Omri said and went on, “Say, what’s Curitiba like?”
“Curitiba is a gorgeous city, and you can take cool trips from here, even to Foz.”
“Where?”
“Foz do Iguaçu, the big waterfalls on the border of Paraguay, Argentina and Brazil. Don’t worry, I’ll guide you, you’re lucky you met me.”
“How’s the pousada?” Ido asked, “
Is it close to the city center?” Gadi added a question of his own.
“The pousada is outside the city and is owned by an Israeli guy who fell in love with a Brazilian girl and this country, so he stayed here. I work for him. The pousada is spotless and what’s most important is that it has an Israeli atmosphere.”
Gadi immediately suspected that Liam was also an adopted child who came here, like him, to find his birth mother. Otherwise, what was he doing in Curitiba? It seemed to him that Liam was also a bit dark and rolled his Portuguese as if he were a natural born Brazilian.
“How long have you been traveling?”
“About a month and a half.”
“That’s nothing, I’ve been here for two years. Where are you from in Israel?”
“Tel Aviv.”
“I have a lot of army friends there.”
“Where did you serve?” the three of them asked.
“That’s the Israeli code question,” Liam laughed. “You ask where someone served and then you think you know who’s standing in front of you. What does it even matter?” he asked apologetically.
“In the Military Headquarters? Entertainment corps? Military police? Come on, spit it out, are you embarrassed?”
“Golani brigade,” he replied, “I was an officer.”
“Oh, well, nobody’s perfect,” they tried hiding their surprise.
“Where did you guys serve?” Liam asked.
“There’s three of us. Each one served somewhere else. I was a paratrooper,” Omri said, “I was in Duvdevan special forces” Gadi said, “and I was in the Armored Corps,” Ido whispered tiredly.
When they arrived at the pousada, they immediately felt at home. It was an Israeli island in foreign territory. Although Brazil was good to them, they kept yearning for the smells and homelike warmth, the taste of hummus and sounds of Hebrew. This is where it all was. The large hostel, formerly a mansion, had a stone fence, which was covered on one side by maracuja bushes and on the other adorned by gloriously blue and pink Hortensia flowers. Most of the area surrounding the house was an orchard of mangos, avocados and cashews. On the eastern side horses grazed by their stable and riding arena, with lined hedges and encircled by a white fence. A man wearing a wide brimmed hat watered the dirt around it to prevent dust clouds caused by galloping horses. On the western side was a large plant nursery, only the large leaves poking out indicated it was indeed a nursery.