Two Sides of Me

by Nora Sarel

  They celebrate for seven days, like we do, and since both holidays are at about the same time of the year and their names sound alike (Passover and Páscoa), I’m almost certain they had copied it from the Jews and put their religious twist on it. When I asked the receptionist about the origin of the name ‘Páscoa’ he replied that it had to do with the passages Jesus went through. Indeed, Jesus was taken from the ‘Seder’, his last supper, to where he was crucified.

  From our hotel window, we could see the city all dressed for the holiday. Images and statues of Jesus agonizing on the cross, as well as other artifacts depicting this story were presented at display windows, windowsills and of course, churches. I was told that in center Brazil there were historical cities, where during ‘Semana Santa’ there were exhibitions of the famous Brazilian sculptor Aleijadinho, who had sculpted scenes from the New Testament. I would like to visit it someday, I find it interesting to see his perspective on Jews. Does he think they were those who crucified Jesus? How did he shape them? But we’re too far from that, now we have eyes only for our son…

  Tonight will be Gadi’s first ‘Seder’ and Dafne had sung to him a traditional Passover song, but replaced ‘Egypt’ with ‘Brazil’, “We were slaves in Brazil, now we are free.” She was so satisfied with her own creativity that she could not stop humming the song all afternoon. I told her it would be better if she would have used a different traditional song

  “Next year in Jerusalem.” Next year, Gadi will sit with us at the Seder in Israel, with our entire family, and in two years he will probably know how to sing the song, “The Four Questions”

  Saturday April 10th, 1982

  Today Gadi is two months old, and we too, have been here for two months. The day Nessia gave us Gadi’s birth certificate Dafne told me it had all been decided by a divine force; the day we started our journey – Gadi was born. According to Dafne it had been predestined to be so by the hand of God. It’s so strange that such a rational woman would believe in supernatural and spiritual forces. She claims Gadi had impatiently waited for us and would only come out once he was sure we had landed in Brazil. He just needed to grow a bit, feed and get stronger in the arms of his biological mom, and then be given to his real parents. Nothing is coincidental, Dafne stated.

  If we would have gotten the legal papers, maybe, I would have believed she was right. But, we don’t have them and Sergio can’t guarantee it will be over soon. He is in fact doing his best, but there’s a lot to be done. Sergio had visited Nessia’s house so that she could sign the waivers, but it turned out she was no longer living at her grandmother’s. “She moved to a different city,” the grandma apologized to Sergio, who wasn’t sure what to do next. When Dafne heard of it she told me she didn’t trust Nessia from the very beginning, she looked like a liar.

  In the meantime, Sergio thinks he found a solution. He’ll get the statement Dona Arlete had promised him, in which she will testify of the mother’s concession. He already has the shelter administrator, Dona Anna’s, statement, describing the chain of events and how Nessia was pregnant with Francisco Oliveira’s child, and it gave it up. He also had the letter Nessia gave us. Perhaps all these could help Sergio.

  Sergio will take all these documents to the court this Monday to be approved and then open an adoption file. I want this to be behind us, too.

  Sergio is doing his very best to help us. His wife Monica is nice, too, and is very sympathetic of our situation. They invited us over again, this time for churrasco– a BBQ, in their yard. We asked if we could bring Nili, Ori and Dana with us. However, Ori said they were busy taking care of their documents and flight back home. Although it’s Saturday, the agency works until 3 PM. They want to find tickets at any cost, they’ve been chasing their promised tickets for a week now.

  We took a taxi to Sergio and Monica’s house, we easily folded Gadi’s stroller and put it in the trunk. I’m writing about it because it was the first time we did it. This might seem silly, but at that moment I felt like any other parent. Whenever I would open the trunk and it would be empty, unlike our friends’ which was always full of baby stuff, my heart would break.

  When we got there, we joined a large group, who were invited to stay for the Shabbat. To our surprise, we met among the Brazilian friends, most of which were Jewish, an Israeli couple. They also came to Curitiba for adoption and met Sergio, who also provided his services free of charge. Miri and Ofer introduced us to their new daughter, 8-month-oldRomi. Although she was sick that day, Sergio told them to bring her along since one of his churrasco guests was a young pediatrician called Aldo, who had recently moved to Curitiba and would take the opportunity to examine the girl.

  The moment we heard Romi was sick, Dafne moved Gadi’s stroller away. According to the doctor, she only had a common virus, nothing too serious. He recommended they treat her with anti-fever suppositories and a lot of liquids. I noticed that Romi was apathetic, very quiet and barely smiled nor crawled, maybe it was the virus. Miri and Ofer told us with great relief that they would probably leave Brazil next week. They were both here for three and a half months. Romi had a lot of health issues but they wouldn’t give up on her and treated her until she was better. They lived at an apartment hotel not very far from ours. Their delayed and unplanned stay in Brazil caused them trouble at work and led to huge expenses. So, they had to go home no matter what. Ofer asked for our phone numbers both at the hotel as well as back in Israel. He asked if we could stay in touch as he thought this would be very important for the children. We were obviously happy to have new friends, we had a sense of camaraderie.

  They left early because Romi’s fever peaked, and we stayed behind, enjoying every moment. Sergio and Monica’s friends and family are very nice. His parents and both of his brothers were there, and of course his girls and his brothers’ children. They all wanted to play with Gadi but I wouldn’t let them and said he was still a small baby, when he’ll grow up they can play with him. “If you want to play with Gadi you would have to live in Israel,” I spoke to them about Zionism, but they didn’t understand, only their parents laughed.

  It felt wonderful. We were like everyone else. We had a child. Until now, when we would visit friends for a BBQ or just meet on Saturdays, everyone would come over with their children or speak about them, and we felt left out. I have occasionally noticed one of our friends shushing the other when they spoke of children. But today this was over. Thanks to Gadi we are parents, and it felt wonderful.

  When we came back to the hotel Nili called to tell us they were going back home tomorrow morning. They were about to come to our room and say goodbye. Although we were exhausted and Gadi had to eat, we told them to come over. They said Dana’s tests were good, the papers were signed, the money was paid, and their son at home misses them. They bought tickets for the first available flight, not caring which airline or route they were taking. I guess the tickets they already had, those they bought for El-Al, would have to be thrown away, since they chose to take another airline which had an earlier flight. It’s a shame moneywise, but sanity is priceless. We were happy for them that they were about to end the process and lovingly wished them a safe journey. They were already a part of us. They were our family. We kissed them and Dana, and they kissed Gadi, who woke up from the noise, opened his great brown-green eyes and made sounds that announced he was hungry. Dafne picked him up and immediately gave him a bottle. We kissed Dana again and said goodbye with tears in our eyes. We promised to see each other again in Israel soon.

  Monday April 12th, 1982

  We were left without Ori, Nili and Dana. It felt empty.

  We tried passing the day by strolling around Curitiba’s streets, parks, shops and at the hotel lobby. In the afternoon, after resting for a while, I suggested that I would go back home alone and Dafne stay here with Gadi until we get the papers. The dilemma was a hard one, on the one hand, there was no point in both of us idly sitting here, not know
ing how long we would have to stay. On the other, leaving Dafne to fight this battle on her own, wasn’t fair. When I saw Dafne becoming quiet and reaching for her sunglasses, my suggestion was forgotten as quickly as it had been mentioned. “I’m sorry,” I apologized, “I can’t leave you here alone.” I didn’t look at her so that she would think that I changed my mind because I gave it some extra thought, not because of her reaction. I immediately turned to call Miri and Ofer. Ofer answered and I asked how was Romi feeling. “She’s feeling good today,” he answered, “so maybe you should come over tomorrow,” I offered, after deciding to be cautious due to Romi’s virus. Now I’m sure, the symptoms are clear, I’m a hysterical father.

  Tuesday April 13th, 1982

  Before we could even finish breakfast, Miri and Ofer were waiting for us at the dining room door, while Ofer was holding Romi. We went for a walk at the Passeio Público, the largest park in Curitiba, and in my opinion, the most beautiful one, too. The weather was cool and you could feel it was autumn. In Israel its spring now, my favorite season. Soon it will be Independence Day in Israel, and I wish we’ll be home by then. This year, more than any before, I want to go visit my uncle Gadi’s, grave, and tell him I have commemorated him. I grew up on the story of Gadi’s heroism, and I had promised myself I would name my son after him – although my mother was superstitious about giving that name. I loved my uncle Gadi, although I didn’t know him. I always hoped my son would be as handsome and successful as he was, and I thank Dafne with all my heart that she agreed to name our son after him. I’m sure this name will bring our child good luck. His character will be similar to Gadi’s and he will assume his place on earth. This is an appropriate way to commemorate a beloved person.

  CHAPTER 14

  “Who knows me?” screamed the headline on the back of the Gazeta do Povo paper. Beneath it were proudly presented two pictures of Dana. They chose a widely circulated newspaper in the state of Paraná, since they believed it would catch every reader’s eyes, and perhaps her story or pictures would jog someone’s memory.

  “We’ll start planning our day right after breakfast,” Liam said when they met in the shower in the morning. “We need to prepare for our trip to Recife.”

  “There are a few more things to do in Curitiba. Maybe we should drop by the Trabalhadores, the hospital Dana was born in, and try looking through their registries for a baby who was very sick in March nineteen eighty-two,” Omri suggested.

  “And perhaps we should go to Sergio’s office and try to get some information from him that might lead us to Nessia, he must know something about Dana, too,” Ido said determinately, and then added, “he must be really old by now.”

  “What are you talking about? Sergio lives in Israel, my parents keep in touch with him, and he’s not old at all.” Gadi replied and went on to make a suggestion of his own, “Maybe we should just go back to Dona Anna, I think she has the address and for some reason won’t give it to us.”

  The whole time Adi was sitting on the large office chair by the desk. She was reading the paper. The ad about the adopted girl from Israel who was looking for her birth mother in Brazil, caught her attention.

  When the four walked through the lobby and passed Adi on their way to breakfast, she jumped out of her seat. She showed them the ad while telling them of its content.

  “We know,” said Liam, “what are you so excited about?”

  “How do you know? When did you read it? The paper only arrived on this morning.”

  “We put the ad in,” Omri said. Ido nudges him with his elbow, but Omri went on, “what’s the matter with you? It’s not a secret, Dana is our friend and she doesn’t mind talking about her adoption. Besides, Adi doesn’t even know her.”

  Gadi looked at them but didn’t take part in their conversation. He approached Adi slowly and asked to see the ad. He was once again struck by the same sensation that came over him whenever he was stressed. He tried reminding himself this wasn’t his picture or his request. But the feeling would not let him go, he quickly leaned against the desk so no one would notice. Adi was happy to spread open the paper and squeezed her way through, into between his stretched arms, to read aloud.

  “Hey, I can’t see,” Gadi complained when she lifted her head. He tried tilting her head so he could see the letters. However, his touch sent a shiver down her spine and delighted her. She pressed her body closer to his to feel his warmth, rubbed against him until her head touched his chin. She snuggled in his arms like a kitten and wasn’t concentrated on what she was reading.

  “You skipped a line,” Gadi noted, and she went back to reading from the correct spot.

  “Translate already,” he urged her, while his chin was still sunk into her hair.

  “Wait,” she muttered, and continued translating. When she finished reading, they both kept looking at the ad as if they were reading it over and over again. They were in fact enjoying the intimacy between them and prolonged the moment as much as possible.

  Suddenly Adi turned her head to him and he embraced her, it felt natural. When he thought about it, it felt weird, this was the first time he had been so close to another girl. He had only been with Tamara so far, and suddenly he was attracted to Adi who melted in his arms.

  Omri, Ido and Liam were already sitting in the dining room when Gadi and Adi joined them. They looked at them at once and the smell of passion spread in the air, mingling with the aroma of fresh buns.

  “I’m staying at the hostel today. It’s not like we have chosen a specific destination, and there’s no point in messing around in Curitiba. We’ve had enough.” Gadi said when they finished eating. The three smiled but didn’t say a word. “I’m not going out today,” he repeated, in case someone hadn’t heard him.

  “Maybe we should plan the day and then you can decide if you want to join us or stay,” Omri suggested.

  “I’m good with whatever you decide, you can do whatever you like. I’m staying in today, I want to shake off the stress.”

  Omri and Ido weren’t bitter and didn’t complain. They were understanding. “OK,” they supported his decision.

  “You got it” Liam said loudly and expressively left the room, while the others followed him. However, his expression revealed his dissatisfaction and his mumble gradually became louder. Only when the door closed behind them, he blurted, “we do everything he asks, and he, what does he do for us?”

  Omri and Ido tried to settle the matter and convinced Liam to go out. “We’ll decide where to go once we leave,” they said.

  Gadi, unaware of the problem he had caused, was free to ask Adi to leave the reception desk for a few hours.

  “I don’t think I can,” she said sadly, and when she noticed his disappointment she added, “but, you know what? I’ll ask Bruno to sit here instead of me and hope no one finds out.”

  The moment Bruno sank into the wide office chair, they headed to the stream running between the eucalyptus trees. “You said this was a secluded and romantic spot, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” Adi confirmed and placed her arms around his waist. He did the same.

  While sitting on the river bank their feet dipped in the water, Gadi told her about his military service, his parents and Grandma Zipora. He casually mentioned being adopted, and since she didn’t further inquire about it, he was sure she didn’t notice and for a moment, he thought she wasn’t listening to him, which is why he didn’t say anything else about it. Instead, he just kept praising Ido and Omri. He didn’t even mention he had recently ended his long relationship with Tamara.

  Adi seemed indifferent, not showing any signs of interest.

  “Are you following?” he checked she was there.

  “Every word,” she replied. This was her cue to tell him about herself. She told him about her house in the Kibbutz, her family, her parents, her twin brothers and her old Labrador Jessi, whom she missed the most and worried w
ouldn’t be alive when she comes back home. Adi told him about her short-term plans of staying in Brazil and her long-term plans of studying architecture at the university.

  “You really do have a five-year plan,” Gadi said with a smile.

  “Even longer,” she laughed and stroke his cheek with her fingers.

  “Now, put aside your plans and come here, let’s live in the moment,” he opened his arms wide and embraced her tightly, passionately kissing her.

  “How long are you planning on staying here?” she asked and freed herself from his grip, but Gadi wouldn’t let go. He was overwhelmed with passion and hushed her questions with kisses.

  “Answer me,” she tried again.

  “What difference does it make, I don’t know. They’ll decide. Let’s be pessimistic and assume we only have a few hours to be together, so we better spend our time wisely, and not by talking,” he replied. He didn’t know his prophecy would fulfill itself and they would have to say goodbye so soon.

  In the afternoon Adi and Gadi were surprised to see the guys. “You’re back already?” they asked while trying to straighten their shirts and comb their hair. But their friends noticed it all.

  “We decided to leave Curitiba tomorrow,” Ido said.

  “The day after tomorrow, tops,” Omri added, to sugarcoat their decision.

  “Already? Why?” Adi asked.

  “Don’t worry, Adi, we’ll see each other again,” Gadi promised.