A great example of this phenomenon is religiosity (that is, religious interests and activities). Studies of religiosity using high school juniors living at home found that the similarity of identical and fraternal pairs was about the same. However, when studies used twins who were eighteen and older, genetic effects showed up—the identical pairs, whether reared apart or together, were more alike than the fraternal pairs.3 Reared-apart identical twins Sharon and Debbie were raised in different faiths, Catholicism and Judaism, respectively. Both twins are heavily involved in religious activities today, although Sharon now identifies as an Evangelical Christian. Most important, both believe they would have fully embraced the other’s faith had their adoptive families been reversed. Interestingly, neither of the adoptive siblings raised with them has shown the same high level of religious involvement.4
I also got to know reared-apart identical twin firefighters, Mark Newman and Jerry Levey, who grew up in different New Jersey cities about sixty miles apart. The two were occasionally confused with one another—Jerry’s relatives were miffed when “Jerry” walked past them on the street without so much as a nod in their direction, and Mark’s father was falsely informed that “Mark” had been playing hooky from school one afternoon. The twins finally met when they were thirty-one, after a friend of Mark’s spotted Jerry at a volunteer firefighters’ convention—he knew it wasn’t Mark, but it was someone who looked a lot like him. At that time the twins differed in weight by about eighty pounds, but Mark’s fellow firefighters could still see their friend in Jerry’s slimmer version.
They had a lovefest at first as these big burly brothers slid effortlessly into a twin culture all their own. Both were six feet, four inches tall, with balding heads, bushy moustaches, wire-rimmed eyeglasses, and prominent noses. Both drank only Budweiser beer and in huge quantities, even positioning their little finger beneath the can for support in exactly the same manner. They craved Chinese takeout, ordered their steaks raw to rare, and showed zero tolerance for inept servers. Sadly, their bond weakened over the years after Jerry married and Mark moved to the Southwest. But they did have differences—Mark listened to rock ’n’ roll, while Jerry liked country and western; Mark cheered on the Dallas Cowboys, while Jerry rooted for the Washington Redskins—however, both acknowledged that they liked each other’s preferences. Both twins were raised in the Jewish faith and held their separate bar mitzvahs on nearly the same day; while neither twin is religious, both consider themselves Jewish.
Sports participation works exactly the same way as religiosity. Adolescent identical and fraternal twins from the Netherlands did not differ in how often they took part in physical activities. But adult identical twins were much more alike than their fraternal twin counterparts, evidence of genetic effects. Thus we can better understand why both reared-apart identical twins Lucky and Dianne rode and raised horses, Tom and Steve became bodybuilders, and Margaret and Caroline were great walkers—whereas Roger and Tony’s preferred sport was eating. And during Olympic years we hear about identical twin competitors, such as the American skiers Phil and Steve Mahre (1984), Slovakian canoers and kayakers Peter and Pavol Hochschorner (2004), and Chinese synchronized swimmers Wenwen and Tingting Jiang (2008).5
Fraternal twins compete together less often, largely because of their different physical abilities and motivations. Notable exceptions are the US fraternal twin gymnasts Morgan and Paul Hamm—Paul won the overall gold medal at the 2004 Olympic Games, while each won a silver medal in the team competition. Another extraordinary exception is Dominique Moceanu, an elite Olympic gymnast and a member of the “Magnificent Seven” of the US Women’s Gymnastics Team at the 1996 Atlanta Games. Although she is not a twin, she learned she had a similarly talented younger biological sister who had been adopted away at birth. Amazingly, her sister, Jen, who was born without legs, became a champion tumbler and performer and had idolized Dominique long before she learned they were sisters.6 As full siblings the two share the same genetic relationship as fraternal twins.
Twin research and reports such as these made it important to compare the religious leanings and sports interests of the four Colombian brothers. Would the real identical brothers be a greater match than the accidental brothers? As they transitioned from childhood to adolescence to adulthood, their differences were becoming increasingly obvious to everyone around them. Still, no one imagined that the two rather different children they knew, apparently born to a mother who had delivered twins, were biologically unrelated because one twin was accidentally exchanged with another twin in the nursery.
William and Wilber—Lads of La Paz
William and Wilber grew up in La Paz, in the north central part of Colombia, about 150 miles from the nation’s capital city of Bogotá. La Paz is largely a farming region in the department, or state, of Santander. William and Wilber spent the first five years of their lives in the tiny area of Landázuri until their family moved to the equally tiny area of Vereda El Recreo.
People had marveled at the physical and temperamental differences between the two ever since they were born. William, slight and dark-complexioned, looks like no one in his family, although some people thought he resembled his paternal grandmother, Germina. In contrast Wilber, robust and light-skinned, looks a lot like his parents and some of his siblings. The brothers’ temperaments are also at odds—William is warm and mild mannered, whereas Wilber is reserved and hot tempered. Tendencies toward explosive behavior are characteristic of Santandereans, who also speak at amazingly fast clips, making them hard for others to understand. William, however, speaks in a slower, more measured way than Wilber, even though they grew up together. This is not surprising because genes do partly shape our speech and language patterns.7 I have seen (and actually heard) ample evidence of identical twins’ matching speech. The “Jim twins”—Jim Lewis and Jim Springer—who were raised in different Ohio towns spoke in the same low, hurried, and hard-to-understand way when I studied them in Minnesota or listened to their interviews on TV. The religious twins Sharon and Debbie spoke quickly but clearly, and the voices and speech patterns of the famous firefighter twins were indistinguishable unless I was standing in front of them so I could see who was talking.
* * *
As of 2005, when William and Wilber were about seventeen and would have left for military service, La Paz counted a population of 773, although the greater area now counts about three thousand residents.8 The population of La Paz is actually misleading. The brothers grew up in a farmhouse that stands alone amid the plants and wildlife—festivals and other goings-on are hours away and happen only occasionally. La Paz has several bars and pool halls to choose from, but nothing much changes from week to week—websites that list musical and cultural events in Bogotá do not exist for La Paz.
La Paz now has about one hundred small businesses, such as fruit and vegetable stands, shops for repairing farm equipment, and the bars and pool halls where teenagers like to hang out. The few restaurants, cafes, and markets are often family run and offer the same food, drink, and candy choices. People often lounge on benches at the entrances to these places—older women in long dresses with beautiful gold earrings and young men in high rubber boots and broad-rimmed hats. The bathrooms in these eating establishments are typically tiny, dark, and without toilet paper. Plumbing is uncertain—when we stopped for a bathroom break at perhaps the only shop open late on a Sunday night, the clerk sternly cautioned that we could urinate, nothing else.
To reach these businesses from the brothers’ childhood home requires hiking several hours each way, riding a horse, or combining a one-hour walk with a one-hour ride in a four-wheel-drive vehicle. (Roads are finally under construction today, although many people still do not have cars and transportation.) Walking means navigating uneven terrain and either wading through muddy streams or risking a terrifying walk across an aging rope bridge. From an early age children walk these long distances to and from school—the trip to William and Wilber’s simple, one-story school
house required a one-hour hike each way. Getting there meant putting on high boots and negotiating long stretches of rough landscape. Paths are poorly defined, and anyone unfamiliar with the area can quickly get lost. Facilities at the school were sparse—a sports field looked more like an abandoned lot than a place to play. The school day lasted from 8:00 a.m. until 2:00 p.m., and when children returned home in the late afternoon they were expected to help tend crops, care for farm animals, and chop and carry wood.
Homes in the twins’ tiny childhood district of Vereda El Recreo lack modern conveniences, such as running water, flush toilets, toilet paper, and electric lights. The twins’ home did not even have an outhouse—instead, the bathroom was in the great outdoors, and bushes afforded (and still do) whatever privacy one can find. Their home from ages five to eighteen was an open, three-sided wooden structure with three rooms, or living areas, and a sort of patio out front, set within nine hectares (twenty-two acres) of land. The walls and floors show signs of age, and what looks like red paint on a crumbling wooden stove is actually blood from the cows and other animals that are slaughtered and prepared for meals. Missing planks let in rain, wind, and sun, so the family has little protection from the weather. William said the house was more rudimentary than others in the area, but Wilber (the native son) considered it about average. Thieves could gain easy access to these properties, but no one remembers any such crimes in a place where everyone knows their neighbors. However, guerillas, the terrorist rebels who fought the Colombian militia from 1964 until 2016, had no trouble demanding crops and supplies when they passed through La Paz and surroundings areas. The paramilitary, the peoples’ defense against the guerillas, also came through some years later and would take cows or charge taxes for owning cows—the more cows, the higher the taxes.
Each family’s relative isolation may partly explain the close relationships that developed among the siblings. William and Wilber have four older siblings. Ancelmo, called “Chelmo” for short, is Wilber and William’s second-oldest brother. He is forty or forty-one and was born on March 30, but he is unsure of the year. Lack of attention to time is typical of residents in the Colombian countryside, especially among those with limited literacy. Like other individuals her age, Ana Delina, the mother of this brood, can barely read and write—she completed only the second grade. Their father, Carmelo, who attended school for less than a year and was just “fooling around” while he was there, can do neither. Ana claims to have been married on All Saints’ Day, which falls on November 1, but that is debatable—her daughter, Alcira, claims that her parents were married on December 28. Regardless, Ana and Carmelo do not celebrate wedding anniversaries.
All the La Paz siblings left school between the ages of eight and eleven to work on the family farm, although all can read and write. But even William and Wilber have trouble listing the ages of their family members, and their responses often conflict. William says that Ana is seventy-eight, while Wilber says she is seventy—it turned out that Wilber is correct, because Ana was forty-five when she had her twins. And Alcira claims to be two years younger than she really is.
Birth dates are printed on drivers’ licenses (licencias de conduccion, or pases), but the family never had any real need for a car because the area lacked roads. Of course, date of birth, as well as name, photograph, thumbprint, blood type, security holograms, and ID number are printed on Colombian government-issued identity cards (cédulas) that citizens must carry at all times. However, La Paz residents rarely use the card in their secluded town where everyone knows everyone else. No one has credit cards and crops often take the place of cash.
Set of Six: Three Brothers, One Sister, and So-Called Twins
Chelmo is Wilber’s older biological brother and William’s accidental one. Chelmo is lean and tan from laboring on the farm that he loves, growing cocoa and corn and raising cows. His short dark hair and imposing moustache are his most distinctive outward features. He wears the uniform of the town—a nondescript button-down shirt, faded blue jeans, brown belt, and brown work shoes. Chelmo looks older than forty (or forty-one), perhaps because of his hard work, constant sun exposure, and infrequent medical visits. He now lives in the house he grew up in along with his partner and children, including a nineteen-year-old son, Stevenson, and sixteen-year-old identical twin boys, Brian and Wilmer—the aging Ana and Carmelo no longer live there, having moved to a location that is closer to shops, but a three-hour walk from the house where they raised their family. Like all the brothers in the La Paz family, Chelmo is an avid football (fútbol) fan and supporter of the team Atlético Nacional. (Football in Colombia and other Latin American countries is the same as soccer in the United States and some other western nations.) Like most rural inhabitants, he speaks quickly, sounding like an answering machine on fast-forward—people from Bogotá (rolos), who speak more slowly, have a hard time understanding him and other people from nonurban areas. The rolos inhabit a city rich with cultural and educational offerings that some have called the “Athens of South America.”9 Rolos are conscious of speech, dress, manners, family names, and other social conventions that define their urban life. On the rare occasions that they go to the city, Chelmo and his siblings feel like outsiders.
Chelmo doesn’t smile often, but he becomes emotional when discussing anything to do with William. Chelmo broke down in tears when he and his family gathered for the first time with Carlos, Wilber’s biological twin. They assured this newest addition to the family that they would never forsake him. William said he did not feel part of this scene, having learned that his biological parents had died several years earlier, so he would never meet them. But perhaps he had spent some precious time with his mother, Luz, in kangaroo care before entering the hospital’s nursery. I hoped so because those moments with his mother would have been his last.
That both Ana and her son Chelmo had identical twins may not be coincidental. Researchers once thought that identical twinning was a random event, happening with equal chance across all families—after all, identical twins occur in only three or four of every one thousand births worldwide. But in the 1990s researchers found evidence that identical twinning may be a genetic trait in some families.10 In fact, large multigeneration families teeming with identical twins have been located in parts of India, Iran, and Jordan. And in August 2017 I met identical Brazilian twins Marjorie and Mayara, who have twenty-four mostly identical female pairs across five family generations, probably the largest number reported in a single family. These twins and their family members come from Rio Grande do Sul, a region of southern Brazil known for its high rate of twinning, which appears to be genetically influenced. Being an older father also seems to increase the chances of twinning, but Chelmo was not an older father when his twins were born.11
Not all the La Paz siblings are married or have partners, so whether they will become parents of multiples remains to be seen. Edgar is closest in age to the twins—he was seven when they were born—and is now single and living with his parents in their new home. In both Colombian cities and countrysides, it is not unusual for family members to live together, even as children become adults, because of the financial and emotional benefits such arrangements offer. Nonetheless, Ana is concerned that most of her children are unmarried and childless.
* * *
Edgar turned thirty-four on February 18, but his year of birth escapes him too. Given the La Paz family members’ relationship with time, it seems incongruous that they always carry their cell phones, even in the field, although reception is spotty. Edgar shares his siblings’ joy in working on the farm, calling it “artwork in the country.” He, too, is lean and tan. He favors the same casual clothing that Chelmo wears. And like his brother, Edgar is not much of a smiler. He seemed uncomfortably quiet unless answering a question posed directly to him, and when he met me in Bogotá for an interview he appeared ill at ease as we ate lunch at a local cafe or took pictures. His reserve may have been largely the result of feeling out of place in a noisy ci
ty surrounded by lots of people, traffic, and commotion. However, Edgar seemed more relaxed when his sister, Alcira, finally showed up. Ana and Carmelo’s only daughter is more open and outgoing, and smiles somewhat more than her brothers.
The day we saw the twins’ only sister, she was harried after a long trip in the middle of a strike by truck drivers that had made traveling to Bogotá from her home in Vélez treacherous. The traffic was heavy, even stalled in places, public transportation was operating only sporadically, and fires could be seen on the side of the roads. She also worried about getting home that night to tend to the small market that she owns and operates with her daughter. Alcira loves her work. She also prefers living in a small city to life in an isolated farm area, given the greater opportunities for employment. In fact, she had worked as a nanny in Bogotá when she was younger.
Alcira says she is fifty-four, but she is really fifty-six and the widowed mother of three. Dark-haired and light-skinned, Alcira inherited her father’s prominent jaw and her mother’s slim build. Like many Colombian women, she wears her lovely long dark hair pulled back tightly from her face, but the long dangling earrings favored by virtually all Colombian women are missing—eyeglasses are her only ornament. Alcira favors simple but attractive attire—black jacket, black slacks, black shoes, and a light-colored button-down shirt. She politely lets her wishes be known—she wanted lunch as soon as she arrived at the hotel and informed us that her time with us was limited.
Carmelo did not favor giving his only daughter an education; consequently, Alcira received less schooling than her other siblings, advancing only as far as the second grade, whereas most of her other siblings completed the fifth grade. She attended school between the ages of twelve and fourteen, later than the others, because her parents wouldn’t let her take the hour’s walk across the hills, streams, and mud alone when she was younger—so until that time she worked in the field, harvesting cocoa.
Accidental Brothers Page 3