Two Sides of Me

by Nora Sarel

  She thought it was strange, so she quickly asked, “You’re Hebrew, aren’t you? How come you don’t know songs in Hebrew?” Her question threw him off and he mumbled, “Yes, I’m Israeli.” He didn’t doubt his being an Israeli, but this closeness he felt, their similar complexion and the Portuguese that rang in his ears as a mother tongue would, shook his confidence. He went back into her lap.

  While placing his head between her perky breasts, he felt the peace was lulling him to sleep, he was slightly dazed and he hallucinated Tamara and Adi, walking hand in hand further and further from him. He called their names, but they couldn’t hear, they were already as far as the horizon, when suddenly one turned and ran to him, who was it? Tamara or Adi? He tried to see, squinting his eyes because of the bright sun, but couldn’t. Then, his phone rang. It took him a moment to realize he wasn’t dreaming the sound. He then quickly rolled over, got out of the comfortable position he was in, threw some sand around him and shoved his hand into his bag to search for his phone. “Shit, where is that freaking thing, where the hell did I put it?” he complained in Hebrew. By the time he found it, the ringing had stopped. A few minutes later he received a text message, “It’s ten AM, but in Brazil it’s four, which is the time you were born. Happy birthday, my son. Call us when you can. Mom, Dad and Grandma, who love you a lot.”

  Gadi didn’t stall and dialed his home number. “Hi,” he said and everyone called “Happy Birthday!” into the phone. His grandma added, “I made your favorite apple pie,” Gadi felt his mouth watering and his eyes were teary. “Don’t eat everything, save me a bite.” Then he realized, Brazil is where he was born, but it was in no way his homeland.

  Rita sat there the whole time, observing.

  “What did you speak? What a funny language.” She asked and giggled. “And the message you got, is it in that language, too? Show me, what are those? Letters?”

  “We have different letters, we write them differently, from right to left,” he tried explaining, but doubted whether she understood.

  She’s nothing more than a child, how old was she? He suddenly asked himself. Who needs her? How did I get so carried away? And the image of the girl dancing yesterday in front of the drunk Germans haunted him again.

  “Why are you hugging me?” he asked her, and she, surprised by his question, answered in detail, “Because I know, that somewhere across the ocean there’s a place with clean streets, beautiful houses, and men like you who smell nice and speak politely to women. I want to live there, in those places across the ocean. So, I came here to look for a man who would take me, who would see I’m a good-hearted girl, and give me a better life.”

  “That’s how you chose me? You thought I would take you away from here?”

  “Yes,” she replied in defeat, “I like you, you seem different, unlike the others.”

  He was overwhelmed with compassion and hugged her.

  “Do you sleep with the men you meet?”

  “Yes, I need the money and they want to get laid. They come from abroad for this. I give it to them, and they pay me.”

  “Where are your parents?”

  “I ran away from home when I was eight, and there was no one who could feed me.”

  “Why did you run away?”

  “My dad abused me,” she said quietly.

  Gadi looked at her painfully. “How does an eight-year-old girl survive on the streets?”

  “The first few days, after I slipped away from home, I slept by the church. I was scared at first, but slowly learned to beg and even steal. One day, when I was at the market, I asked a man to buy me a cake. I was so hungry. After he bought it, he said I was beautiful. He took me under his truck, gagged my mouth with his hand, spread my legs and penetrated me. It hurt, I bled a lot. I was only eight and a half. My friend said that since I lost my honor and I am no longer a virgin I should at least have a programa – a woman of plans is a prostitute who makes money, do you understand? I learned how to arouse men, wear tight, short clothes and talk to them. When they do what they do to me, I close my eyes and dream of how I would take all my savings, live in a beautiful place, have a family of my own, a husband who loves me and cute children; like in the movies.”

  Gadi choked.

  “Where do you find them, these men, on the beach?”

  “Sometimes I go to the airport and wait for flights from Stockholm or Frankfurt, and sometimes I go straight to their hotels.” Rita wanted to talk, to tell him more of things she had gone through. Gadi wanted to listen, but then he heard Omri, Ido and Liam, “Gadi, Gadi.”

  “Where are you? Do you know how long we’ve been looking for you? Couldn’t you have told us you found yourself a mulatto?” Liam yelled.

  “I’m here with Rita, come meet her,” Gadi said.

  “Good looking,” Omri and Ido expressed their opinion.

  “That’s good? She’s no good. You can find a thousand more like her, what are you so excited about?” Liam said and gloated openly. “Do you even have a condom? Brazil is the land of HIV, so be careful, bro,” without waiting for a response he urged them, “come on, let’s go.”

  Gadi hesitated for a moment, and then with a defiant sense of confidence said to Liam, “We were actually having a good time together.” But Liam was already far away and couldn’t hear him.

  “We threw one hell of a birthday party for you,” Ido tried to break the tension, “and the ferry to Ajuda is about to leave.”

  Rita kept sitting on the warm sand, starring at them and trying hard to pick up on what they were saying, but in vain.

  Gadi slowly put on his sandals, put on his shirt and took his backpack. He kissed Rita on the cheek and said to her, “I don’t want to hurt you, you’re sweet, but I’m not the tourist you’re looking for. Here, take fifty reais.”

  “I can’t,” she said, “we were only talking, I didn’t want your money.”

  “Take it, take care of yourself.”

  Although she could not understand the nuances of his language and culture, and despite her being a Brazilian from Porto Seguro who he would never see again, Gadi couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  I did love her for three hours, he thought.

  He joined his friends, who were already waiting on the other side of the dune and didn’t turn his gaze to look at her again.

  When they were on the ferry that would take them back to Arraial d’Ajuda, he sat alone on the deck, leaned against the rusty rail roughened by the ocean waters, and felt regret.

  CHAPTER 16

  A warm breeze welcomed them to Recife. They headed straight away to Olinda, located on a hill in front of the big city. Olinda is considered one of the most beautiful towns in Brazil, a well-preserved ancient site. They were thrilled at the opportunity to visit it. Even Gadi, who was preoccupied all day with his thoughts, smiled and participated in their youthful mischievousness.

  They walked through steep and narrow streets on their way to the “Pousada Sete Colinas” – the “Seven Hills Hostel,” where Ami had made reservations for them. They stayed only a few minutes in the room which had been especially prepared for them and were already out in the garden.

  “We’re in paradise,” Ido said, yet Gadi looked at him and sighed heavily. The garden was full of fruit trees and shrubs. There were large golden pothos leaves, huge elephant ears and other ferns in abundance. Beside them grew red, purple and white bougainvillea, annona, sugar apples, papayas, mangos and cajus. Above were palm trees, barely holding on to their heavy coconut fruits. Among these were stone sculptures on which harmoniously climbed birds and lizards. The smells of the garden were delightful, the Jasmine overpowering all. While resting in their hammocks, hung close to the goldfish pool, or sitting on wooden benches covered in ivy, they could easily observe Recife’s skyscrapers and bridges, breathing in Olinda’s colonial atmosphere. Small blue-winged birds flew from one hibiscus flowe
r to another, sipping the nectar from the calyxes. Peacocks, their tail spread open, paced proudly nearby, keeping a safe distance. Gadi looked around him and couldn’t see the beauty of it all, he was agonized. This didn’t stop Omri from repeating Ido, “It really is paradise.”

  In the church square, right across from them, the banda – Olinda’s band was practicing their wind instruments, guitars and drums. “They’re practicing for the big carnival. It starts next week,” the pousada shift manager, who had been instructed to entertain them, explained. “Olinda is a town drenched in music and art. It’s no coincidence it is the heart of one of the largest carnival celebrations in Brazil,” he boasted. “Look, in front of you is Olinda’s famous church,” he announced while pointing at the Carmo church. It had white domes like two pearls, looming over a town packed with churches.

  “Wait, we’re very interested in that church,” Liam said, but the shift manager kept talking. “It’s the most toured church, since it’s very beautiful and belongs to the Carmelite order. Now the church is closed but tomorrow morning when it opens, it’s a must-see.”

  “What time does it open?” Liam asked as the operation commander.

  “Very early,” was the best answer he could get.

  The Carmo church was their first destination to be conquered in the city, which is why every piece of information about it was crucial.

  After a strong-bitter cafezinho, they wore coats to shield them from the morning chill. Then they climbed the stairs leading to the church and walked through its gates. However, unlike they had expected, they weren’t the only ones. Dozens of noisy Japanese tourists stepped off a bus parked at the bottom of the Carmo hill.

  Gadi, Omri and Ido walked among them and began touring the church’s main hall, like any other tourist.

  “You stay here, and I’ll go look for Father Carlos,” Liam said to the other three. He proceeded to ask the young boy cleaning the church, where should he go. However, the boy could not understand Liam, even though he tried hard. Finally, Liam’s resourcefulness led him to pull out a wrinkled piece of paper from his backpack and write in bold letters, ‘Padre Carlos.’ The agonized young boy’s expression suddenly lit up. He put his broom aside, signed with his fingers he had understood and that he would be right back, then disappeared behind the curtains, leaving Liam to wait for his return. Every now and then Liam moved the heavy dark curtains aside to see if something was happening, but nothing did. The long hall was silent. The tourist’s commotion spread around the church but was blocked by the curtain. Liam was amused by it, he put his head between the curtains and heard the silence, and then took it out to hear the bustling sounds.

  On the church walls hung pictures, each portraying a scene from the New Testament. The Japanese tourists quickly passed by them. They filled the entire hall, Omri, Ido and Gadi with them. Among all the Japanese words, they suddenly heard Ido cry in Hebrew, “I can’t believe it, come see,” within seconds, Omri and Gadi stood by him, frightened and willing to protect their friend. However, it was unnecessary as he was simply pointing to an image of baby Jesus being circumcised, and said, “I have never seen a Christian image portraying Jesus’ bris.” Ido, who was very interested in Jewish history, and therefore knowledgeable in Christianity, was excited by his unexpected finding.

  “We thought something had happened,” Gadi said angrily, trying to conceal his stress. His gaze kept following Liam to see how his search was moving along. Gadi could not muster the courage to join him, even though he wanted to.

  “Gadi, did something happen? You’re not focused.” Omri, who usually noticed everything, especially if it had to do with Gadi, shook him.

  “I’m listening, don’t worry. Go on, it’s interesting,” Gadi tried to dismiss him, however, his gaze was still following Liam.

  “What’s with you? Are you bummed out things aren’t moving faster?” Omri whispered.

  “No, not at all, I’m just a bit nervous about meeting Nessia.”

  Gadi’s answer seemed acceptable, so Ido kept talking about the picture of Jesus, “It’s serious, look, it’s true Christians know that Jesus was Jewish and circumcised, but drawing it? It is as if they publicly announce the most important Christian is in fact a Jew. I can’t recall ever seeing something like that, and I’ve seen my fair share of art books. I never thought I would see a painting depicting Jesus’ bris.”

  Gadi was not paying attention.

  “Why is there such a painting in a church in the middle of nowhere?” Ido could not let his revelation go, and nearly forgot the reason they had visited the church in the first place.

  “What’s with you? All Christians used to be Jews, weren’t they?” Omri tried setting him straight. However, Ido dismissed him with a hand gesture. Gadi was busy spying and did not partake in their argument.

  Liam, who was waiting either for Father Carlos to come or for the cleaning boy to return, lost his patience and tried his luck through a different approach. He stepped into the halls and inner church rooms, hoping he could find someone who could help him.

  “What’s going on here?” he mumbled to himself, “Where am I? I could have fallen into Alice’s rabbit hole.” The many rooms were connected to one another and looked like a large maze made of three floors of elegant coffins, most made of chiseled marble and others of carved jacaranda wood. Liam passed room after room, frightened of the surreal situation he was in and understood he had found his way into an in-church cemetery.

  So scary, who’s buried here? Priests? And where’s the boy? And Padre Carlos? Where’s the way out?

  When Liam had disappeared from his gaze Gadi ran like an experienced detective, yet, he too fell into the sarcophagi trap. It was terrifyingly silent, and he couldn’t see a living soul nor could he find Liam. A small entryway led to an inner yard, surrounded by a chain of arches. Behind every arch was a locked door. Suddenly he saw Liam passing through them, knocking on each and every one. When no one answered he carefully opened the door and immediately shut it again. Gadi kept observing him.

  When Liam approached a small chapel at the end of the yard, from which he could hear men singing quietly, he peeked inside and saw a group of priests covered in brown robes, huddled together and praying with devotion. Liam inspected them and although they all seemed alike, he thought he recognized the senior one among them. This must be Father Carlos, he thought and sat to wait for him on the bench at the entrance to the chapel under a red tree trunk.

  Gadi, who wouldn’t dare approach, looked at the events from a distance. After a few minutes all the priests left the chapel and turned to open the doors Liam had previously opened. They walked without speaking a word or paying attention to Liam who sat right by them. They didn’t ask what he was doing nor replied to his addresses, as if they were bound in silence. Last to leave was the oldest priest. He slowly approached the bench Liam sat on, sat beside him and began speaking with him. Gadi felt overwhelmed with excitement, so he retreated to the church hall and left Liam there. He didn’t walk back through the sarcophagi but rather escaped through the yard surrounding the church.

  “Why didn’t you tell us you were going?” Ido complained when Gadi came back panting, “You scared us.”

  It was now obvious to Liam that this man was indeed Father Carlos.

  “You’re not Brazilian, are you?” Father Carlos asked Liam in English.

  “That’s right,” Liam replied, “I’m Israeli and I was sent by Dona Anna from the shelter in Curitiba.”

  “I’m happy you came to us, Bernardo.”

  “I’m not Bernardo,” Liam replied and realized Father Carlos had been expecting them.

  “Bernardo is here in the church and would like to speak to you. There’s three of us escorting him. It’s not easy for him.”

  “It’s very nice of you, you are good friends,” the Father said and signaled Liam to follow him to the hall. “Let’s go to your
friends,” he said.

  Liam followed the Father’s robes through the cemetery halls, the long corridor, and all the way to the curtain separating them from the main hall. The Father then turned back to see if Liam was still behind him.

  Why is he looking at me? Maybe he’s scared his cemetery ghosts took me, he laughed to himself with fear. Father Carlos looked back at the curtain, moved it aside and approached the three boys standing by Jesus’ circumcision image. The church hall was quiet by then, the tourists had left and there was no sound. From the brown robe, which seemed to be moving on its own, peeked Father Carlos’ head, Liam behind him. Their footsteps were unheard, as if they were walking on air. The three were looking at them.

  “Shalom,” Father Carlos said, and then spoke in English, his eyes fixed on Gadi, “How are you?”

  Gadi didn’t answer, yet his eyes slowly teared up.

  “You’re excited, it’s natural, but it seems you won’t be meeting Nessia today, I still haven’t told her you are looking for her. Two weeks ago, I spoke with Dona Anna. She wanted to know if you had arrived safely. I promised her I would go to Nessia’s house the moment I could. I was planning on seeing her today, right after mass, but you beat me to it. Nessia hasn’t been here for several months. She comes every now and then to collect her letters, but lately she hasn’t come, and I don’t know why. I will go to her house in half an hour. Wait here until I return. Where are you staying?”

  “Here, in the pousada in front of the church,” Liam said.

  “No worries. Go to the pousada or tour our beautiful town. You can even go to Recife, it’s not too far. Come back in the evening, after seven.”

  “But the church gates close at seven,” Liam said.

  “True, ring the bell on the right above the gate and someone will let you in. You will then be led to my room where I will report to you about Nessia.”

  “Perhaps I should come with you?” Gadi suggested.

  “No, my child. I have to prepare Nessia for this meeting, maybe she wouldn’t want to do it in front of her children.” Before he turned to leave, Father Carlos caressed Gadi’s face and said in Portuguese, as though whispering a secret, “Meu filho não se preocupe, tudo vai ficar bem – don’t worry, my son, it will all be alright.”