Brazil 10

 We had a lovely time even though she took me shopping. It was Saturday evening and the shopping centre was humming. I bought a better DVD for the christening and a very small alarm clock. We had the most delicious ice cream ever.

The Christening 

I made sure that I was ready to leave with the rest by nipping into the bathroom first while the rest were having break Then I had my breakfast and waited until the very last minute before I put on my blouse. Jocara appeared from the bathroom in a black cocktail dress with bare shoulders and very high heeled shoes. I thought I was really restrained because I never once said that I thought were had been asked not to wear black. She said nothing. I know my blouse and white embroidered trousers wear smart and more appropriate for a christening.  I also felt quite attractive in fact a few people commented on my appearance. One woman that I had never met before insisted on making me understand that she thought that I was beautiful.

We collected M.L. and A and Band G. We piled into two cars somehow and proceeded to the church.  

The church was enormous. It was probably a cathedral and it was absolutely packed. It also seemed like an enormous theatre production. There was  priest of course and an altar and the stations of the cross and stained glass windows. The priest and all the main players were miked up. Which was fortunate because people were continually coming and going, children were running around and babies were crying. Families waiting for the christening were chatting and the voice of the priest could be heard above it all.

"Performers"  dressed as angels in long stripped shirts and carrying candles frequently ran by me as I waited at the entrance. They went into a side chapel which seemed to be being used as a  dressing room. "The angels " appeared a few minutes later in jeans and tee-shirts.

 I was brought up to dress modestly in church. I would never show a cleavage anywhere anytime so to see so many in church seemed to be outrageous not to mention the make up and hair do's and jewellery. The women looked like the young women in the UK who frequented night clubs. Does this mean that my views are those of an old lady. When I was young dressed up meant wearing a hat and gloves and high necks and long sleeves. I suppose the idea was to de-sex us. Hair and flesh was considered provocative and so both had to be covered.  

Eventually the service ended and the waiting families were efficiently seated in the appropriate places by a man wearing a badge, a large badge saying BAPTISMO. It would have been just as appropriate if the badge had said director. He gave everyone a polythene covered script. Before during and after the service there were more people with cameras than on a film set. One couldn't take a photo without snapping someone who was filming. One couldn't film without filming someone taking a photo. The camera crew for each baby followed mother and baby as they were lined up in front of the altar. They then followed them back to the pews as the next family was called up separately to the font. The baby was surrounded when it was receiving it's name and being doused with water. It was like a star emerging from a car at a film premiere. And who is to say it is wrong. Better to watch videos of ones own family than to watch famous people enjoying themselves. 

The priest made sure that we all followed the service by pointing very clearly to the appropriate place in the scrip which was projected on a screen. His voice was clear and above all others. The service finally ended and we went to the hotel room for the party where the camera men and women were busy again.

We had drinks and nibbles and then a very good meal and cameras continued to flash throughout. When there seemed to be nothing left to do except that one or two guests seemed to have a secret supply of beer, guess what? Just when I thought I couldn't be more bored we were given the privilege of seeing the rushes. A mini, and I mean mini camera was set up.  About twenty people strained to watch and listen to the day so far.

I noticed that when one of the members of J's family speak English and I am having an interesting conversation she intervenes. I can't understand it. When I don't speak she complains and when I do speak she seems jealous. I notice that the only topic of conversation she has with her family is about her house in France.  Since I rarely talk about my family my conversations have been about art or literature or travel. I think J resents this. Her opening gambit with friends and family has been to present them with a photo album and to follow it up with a description of each photo.