Setting the Stage

I was born in the late evening on the eve of the summer solstice, south of the equator(12 degrees, 58 minutes) where summer is winter during the time of the Festa da S?o J?o, a harvest festival.Throughout June, there are fireworks. I arrived to the sound of forro bands (accordions, hand-drums, triangle)and starbursts in the city by the Bay of All the Saints of the Savior. In the short form Portuguese, we called it Bahia. On a map, it's known as Salvador.
Salvador overlooks a bay. There are 38 islands in that bay. I probably never went to one but the view shaped my outlook. I am an islander at heart--enriched by an enclosed environment requiring a different kind of transportation so visitors would have to want to go there. It's not a loner existence but a special, set apart one. The state of Bahia is bigger than Texas.The cobbled streets near our house were steep. There was an elevator, Lacerda, built from the cidade alta to the cidade baixa (upper and lower city). It looks like a construction project in progress jutting out streamlined, modern, a rival to Rio's more famous massive protective Cristo with outstretched arms. I doubt that I rode the elevator or sailed on the bay. I was content to nest and sing in our beautiful house. I was given the name Christine by my father who had seen Greta Garbo in a talkie playing Queen Christina of Sweden. My godmother didn't like it. She had a silver baby cup inscribed"'Irene" and wouldn't change it. How did I get a godmother when my parents were agnostics? Leo Wrench, married to "Big Bob" Wrench, was a good friend and influential. Leo didn't like the name Della(my mother's name) so Della was arbitrarily changed to Judy, which stuck for forty years. My parents were also good friends with the British consul, a Catholic. Within a month of my birth I was christened Christine. The certificate is elaborately embellished. The christening dress could fit a tiny soft animal. It's curious that the agnostics branded me with a destiny-- follower of Christ. The Hindus say the awaiting soul chooses its parents. I can see it. I can see me also choosing that house in that place. The house was stone and, strangely for a South American house, had a large fireplace. It was a lesson in contrasts. There is a picture of me in front of the wintry fireplace dressed in summery batiste with my favorite object, a flyswatter. No blanket or doll for me. Judy said the bathrooms were like Grand Central station. I laid claim to the garden and my mosquito netted nook where I could hear the birds. I was carried about by the cook and her assistants, Alma and Zsa Zsa. My world consisted of music, comfort, my necklace and my flyswatter. My brother's existence was opposite to mine as he was going to a German school where he tackled his work dervishly and was first in his class by the end of the year. He spoke German & English. I spoke Portuguese in a waterfall sort of way. He was very busy and accomplished. Our encounters were friendly but we were already on differing paths. I preferred to sing all day and sew. Except for the times I almost died (of a fish bone stuck in my throat, a tropical fever going too high) my days were pleasant. My observational skills were honed by the visiting dignitaries. My mother thought it significant that Walt Disney was one of them. The Magic Kingdom coming to me.

.......
.....may the blessings of an island, a summer garden be yours..