February 28, Friday

The sun begins to brighten the sky before 5:00 and I’m wide awake and hungry. I take Carlos to the bathroom and he sits on the floor while I shower, then I pick him up and shower him too. I put on fresh clothes and organize our things in the suitcase. I take the key to the reception.

“When is breakfast served?”

The clerk looks up at the clock behind him. “The restaurant opens in thirty minutes, down the hall to your right.”

“Could I leave my suitcase with you for now? I’d like to go out for a walk until breakfast.”

The city is already awake, with cars and buses and horse carts going by on the main street in front of the hotel. I walk down to the river and look up at the post office building across the street. It is imposing and modern, like a big square honeycomb with a clock tower on one side. The sun is already strong as we cross the bridge over a huge river. They say Recife is like Venice in Italy, with so much water when the rest of the Northeast is dry.

“What do you think about that river, Carlos? This big city is very grand, don’t you agree?” His big blue eyes take it all in and I hug him a little too hard. “I love you, my boy. We are going to see your father soon.” I hold him on my hip so he can look at everything as we walk back to the hotel.

I’ve never seen anything like the breakfast spread out in the restaurant. The usual café and hot milk, many different fruit juices, breads and sweets, jams, yogurt, ham and cheese slices, and so many kinds of fruit: sliced mangos, pineapple, banana, papaya. I fix Carlos some oats with fruit and yogurt and make myself a huge plate.

At reception the clerk hands me my suitcase and I ask the bellman to call me a taxi. The driver puts my suitcase in the trunk and Carlos and I sit in the back seat.

“Where to, Madame?”

“The airport, please, Sir.”

It’s a short ride and the car enters a curving drive lined by royal palm trees and we have arrived. I pay the driver and enter the airport. I walk up to the Loide Aero counter.

“A ticket to Brasília, please.”

The girl behind the counter smiles at me; she is dressed in a beautiful suit and her hair is pulled back in a sleek bun secured by a hairnet.

“Yes, Madame. Would you like to check a bag?”

“May I carry it with me on the plane?”

“It is quite secure, Madame, to check the bag. And your hands will be free for the little one.” She grins at Carlos and he laughs back.

“That will be fine, thank you.”

“One way or round trip?”

“One way, please.”

Ticket in hand, Carlos and I head toward the embarkation area. The airport is beautiful and modern, with a colorful mural depicting the history of Recife and the Northeast covering one wall. The huge windows of the waiting area look out on a gleaming silver plane with a stubby nose and four propellers on the wings. All my attention has been focused on getting here but now I can breathe in the excitement of the adventure.

“Carlos, look! What a beautiful airplane!”

“Just you and the baby going to Brasília?” I turn to look at the woman behind me. She coos at Carlos and smiles at me. “What takes you to that dusty construction site? It’s unusual for a woman to be traveling alone.”

She is dressed in a smart red skirt and jacket and stylish pumps. I wonder how she can walk in those high shoes. Her dark hair is short and wavy with little flat curls in front of her ears. Her large gold earrings glint in the light.

“I’m going to be with my husband, he is working to build the city.”

Her eyebrows jump up and she tilts her head and smiles. “Where will you be staying?”

“I don’t know, I will find my husband and then I guess we’ll see.”

“Well, you are in for quite an adventure, querida!” Her voice is a little husky and her laugh is like tinkling glass.

The loudspeaker breaks into our conversation. “Now boarding for flight 72 to Brasília.”

We queue up at the door as they check tickets and people walk to the metal stairs up to the door of the airplane. I try to calm my breathing and hold Carlos close as I climb the stairs. The stewardess greets us and checks my ticket and points toward the back of the plane. The woman in the red suit is getting comfortable in a seat near the door.

The stylish woman speaks to the stewardess. “Aeromoça, let the young lady sit here with me. The plane isn’t going to be full, is it?” When the stewardess nods her okay, she pats the seat next to her, by the window. I smile and take the seat with Carlos on my lap. There are little curtains over the windows, and I peek out at the airport and all the workers bustling about with carts of baggage.

“My name is Célia.” She extends her hand.

“I am Eva, and this is Carlos.”

“Carlos, your mom is taking you on a big adventure! Is this your first time flying, Eva?”

“Yes, Dona Célia. It’s exciting but it’s a little scary.”

The tinkling laugh again. “Oh, don’t worry, it will be fun.”

“Are you traveling alone too?”

She smiles at me. “Yes, but I fly quite a bit. I work as an assistant to the vice president’s wife. Dona Maria Thereza Goulart, have you heard of her?”

I hate to admit I haven’t. “I don’t follow the news and politics very much. I just know the president is Juscelino Kubitschek, J.K.”

A tiny whiff of a sneer crosses her face but is gone in a second. “Oh, looks like we are actually leaving on time for once. You’ll need to buckle this belt.” She shows me how. The stewardess is opening the curtains as she goes down the aisle in the middle of the plane. There is a low hum and the propellers on the wings are a blur. The captain’s voice tells us we are cleared for take-off. The stewardess takes a seat at the front and buckles up as the plane begins to move toward the open fields. The pilot stops the plane for a moment then the engines come to life and the plane lumbers forward, gaining speed, and suddenly we are up in the air. My heart is leaping and I want to giggle as the wing dips down and the plane turns, the bright blue of the ocean below. We climb higher and higher and now everything below is brown.

When we have been flying for a while the stewardess offers us café or juices and serves us a snack on beautiful white china. The back of the seat has a little table that drops down. After we eat, Carlos is fussy and I cover him with my big scarf and give him mamar, and he goes to sleep. I drift off to sleep also. The pilot’s voice wakes me, telling us we are about to land in Brasília.

The earth below is red and the plane passes over a long open area with heavy equipment moving around and the metal skeleton of a tall building. As the plane descends steadily toward the ground, I see the concrete runway and the plane lands with a couple of bumps.

The humid heat hits me as I walk out the open door to descend the stairs. The airport is just one simple building, and we wait as the bags are put on a cart. I retrieve mine and head toward the building.

“Eva, you don’t know where you’re going, do you? Why don’t you ride with me?”

I turn toward Célia with a grateful smile, and she leads me out the other side of the building to a waiting black car. The driver is in a black uniform and cap and takes the suitcases and puts them in the trunk. We sit in the back of the spacious car.

“Driver, this lady doesn’t know exactly where to go, she is looking for her husband. A candango, came from the Northeast to build the capital. Where might we take her to find where he is staying?”

The driver looks over his shoulder and asks me, “What kind of work does your husband do?”

“He is an electrician,” I reply.

The driver starts the engine and puts the car in gear. “Dona Célia, her spouse will most likely be in the tent encampment they built for the skilled workers, near the north wing. We’ll try there first.”

Célia settles back in her seat. “Brasília’s plan is like a map of an airplane, with a center like the body of the plane, and wings to the north and south. Hopefully we’ll get lucky and find where he’s staying. What is his name?”

“Luiz Carlos Lima.” It feels strange to be riding in a fancy car and getting help from Célia, who is obviously an important person.

The dirt streets are wider than any I have ever seen, and the car glides over them quietly with the windows closed to avoid the dust. After a while we pull off the main street and wind around until a series of tents comes into view.

“Driver, stop here please and go ask.”

The driver steps out of the car and calls over a worker dressed in orange coveralls. They talk for a minute and he returns to the car.

“There are several electricians who stay in the fourth tent. We can’t be sure right now because everyone is at work. But it is probably this encampment. The worker will show you which tent.”

The driver gets my suitcase from the trunk. Célia hands me a small card. “The telephone works some of the time, call me if I can help you. I may have work for you once you get settled a bit. Be careful, querida.”

“Dona Célia, I don’t know how to thank you. I am so grateful for your help. May God bless you for your kindness.”

The driver closes the doors and turns the car around, heading back to the main street. Célia smiles and waves at me as the car pulls away.

The man in orange coveralls reaches for my suitcase and gestures for me to follow him. The tents are lined up in a big area that has been cleared, with stumps of trees and brush pushed up around the edges. I take a deep breath and look around as I follow him. The sky is the biggest I have ever seen, with towering clouds on the horizon that look like they could bring rain.

“Here you are, Senhora. I don’t know for sure, but I think the electrical worker guys stay in this one.” He opens the flap of the tent and I enter. There are twelve beds lined up, six on each side. There are bundles neatly stashed underneath each bed.

“Senhora, why don’t you go ahead and rest on the cot in the back there. I’m sure they won’t mind. They should be getting back in a couple of hours.”

“Where might I find a place to wash up, and the . . .?”

“Oh, the latrines. There aren’t any ladies here but all the guys are working so it should be okay now. Go out the front, then left to the end of the tents. And if you turn right instead and go to the other end, there’s the place for cooking.”

“Thank you very much.” He puts the suitcase by the cot and grins at me as he backs out of the tent.

I open the suitcase and organize my things a bit, then with Carlos on hip I head over to the latrines. There is a wooden counter with a crude sink and mirror and I wash our faces and hands, change Carlos’s diaper and try to make my hair look nice. The humidity is making it curl, so it’s a struggle. I hear a crack of thunder and look up to see that the clouds have turned black. A huge bolt of lightning splits the sky in the distance and I scoop up Carlos and rush back to the tent.

Just as we get inside, the skies open and a torrential downpour begins. That smell of rain on dirt and the sound of the rain beating on the canvas makes me feel peaceful and happy and I lie down with Carlos for just a minute.

Men’s voices pierce my sleep. It is dark now. I sit up and pat my hair into place, stand up and smooth my dress. My heart is pounding as I pick up Carlos and smooth his hair. He rubs his eyes with his little fists and looks around. Two men come into the tent.

“Whoa, what do we have here? Excuse me, Senhora, how did you get here?”

“I . . . I . . . came from Paraíba to be with my husband,” I stammer.

“Really! Well, that’s a first. Who is your husband? What does he do?”

“His name is Luiz Lima, he works with . . .”

“Eva! My God in heaven! What are you . . .? How did you . . .?” Luiz has entered the tent with a group of men and rushes toward me. At first he stands opposite me, not speaking, looking at me, looking at Carlos. Then he is wrapping me and Carlos in his arms. Kissing me, kissing Carlos’s face.

“Luiz, please don’t be angry. I couldn’t stand to be away from you. And your son is nine months old.”

“Eva, I’m not angry, just stunned. How did you do it? Did you travel by yourself?”

“Luiz, I will tell you the whole story later. It was fine. I flew on the airplane.”

“Oh, Eva, you are something. And this boy . . . Come here, little guy.” Luiz reaches for Carlos, who begins to wail uncontrollably and pushes his face in my neck.

“It’s okay, Carlos, this is your Papai.” Carlos sobs more slowly and looks at his father out of the corner of his eye. “Here, let Papai hold you.” Curiosity takes hold and he lets Luiz take him. Luiz distracts him and soon has him laughing.

Luiz shows me his bed in the middle of the tent, and I move my suitcase there, apologizing to the man whose cot I borrowed, who just grins and shakes his head. Another man comes over to Luiz. He seems to be the foreman as the men look to him when he speaks.

“Luiz, let’s have you switch cots so we can put you and your family at the back of the tent. Pablo, let’s see if we can give them a little privacy.”

Luiz and I head to the cooking area and I make myself useful making café and toast, and we sit with Carlos among the men at one of the long tables and drink café while we stare at each other. I can’t believe I’m here. When we get back to the tent, the men have suspended a tarp to create a little room. Our family will spend its first night together in the birthplace of the new capital, the new star in the Brazilian flag.