The man in the bus
The man left his home to go to work.
Crowded bus, 6AM, the trip will take about an hour and a half. Could be worse. Could be raining. Then we all could go swimming or drowning. Living in Sao Paulo, I don't know what is worse.
Sao Paulo. Cold in the winter, hot and damn humid in the summer. Still damn humid in the winter, too. So the man is in the bus, and everyone is very full of clothes because it's winter. The air is freaking polluted and it feels like you are a full-time passive smoker. The bus is warm inside and everyone starts to sweat, because it's freaking crowed. And our friend goes there, standing still, holding on, with that bitter sweet odor of warm pits smuggled together....
He is trying to earn life. Ex-inmate, it seems like he has a stamp on his face - "Ex-Inmate"? - go away. That's what's in people's faces and attitudes. He wants to try to live a decent life. Has one boy. 8 years old. Should be in school. He hopes the boy is attending class. At least to have something to eat for the day. Better than hangin out with all those kids, at Se Square. They always find a way to go downtown.
He starts yelling in the bus, trying to sell his "goodies". "One hand-crafted bracelet for a buck!" No one gives a shit. People throw him dirty looks. There is another guy trying to get some bucks by saying his kids had some deadly disease and he needs money for the medicine. He's met this dude in jail. He has no kids. But the heck. They all need to make ends meet, right?
Keep on rolling. Next bus. He hasn't made money enough for dinner yet. It's hard to keep far from the drugs and the alcohol. Drug money puts him food on the table. The boy's mom is far gone. Drunk. Disappeared one day. He heard she was in feminine jail. Who knows? Could've been killed in the rebellion last month. He doesn't care. But he cares about the boy. He doesn't want his kid to follow his steps, juvenile jail, crime, jail,crime, death.
End of the day, he goes home. Walking. He doesn't carry his 38 on him anymore. He doesn't want that life again. But he still keeps it. Life in a favela is not easy. You never know. If it's not the drug dealers, it's the police.
Gets home. Boy got shot. Police came down to the favela, angry. Some dealer killed a cop and they wanted revenge. They came shooting towards the houses where the drug dealers should be hanging. The boy was in one of the houses, ready to take a package out.
The man took his 38 out of the drawer.
Next day, in the police pages of the paper: " Man killed after shooting at police station and killing 5 ".
First page: "Sao Paulo Fashion Week is a tremendous success! Governor presence at event surprises organizers"
Crowded bus, 6AM, the trip will take about an hour and a half. Could be worse. Could be raining. Then we all could go swimming or drowning. Living in Sao Paulo, I don't know what is worse.
Sao Paulo. Cold in the winter, hot and damn humid in the summer. Still damn humid in the winter, too. So the man is in the bus, and everyone is very full of clothes because it's winter. The air is freaking polluted and it feels like you are a full-time passive smoker. The bus is warm inside and everyone starts to sweat, because it's freaking crowed. And our friend goes there, standing still, holding on, with that bitter sweet odor of warm pits smuggled together....
He is trying to earn life. Ex-inmate, it seems like he has a stamp on his face - "Ex-Inmate"? - go away. That's what's in people's faces and attitudes. He wants to try to live a decent life. Has one boy. 8 years old. Should be in school. He hopes the boy is attending class. At least to have something to eat for the day. Better than hangin out with all those kids, at Se Square. They always find a way to go downtown.
He starts yelling in the bus, trying to sell his "goodies". "One hand-crafted bracelet for a buck!" No one gives a shit. People throw him dirty looks. There is another guy trying to get some bucks by saying his kids had some deadly disease and he needs money for the medicine. He's met this dude in jail. He has no kids. But the heck. They all need to make ends meet, right?
Keep on rolling. Next bus. He hasn't made money enough for dinner yet. It's hard to keep far from the drugs and the alcohol. Drug money puts him food on the table. The boy's mom is far gone. Drunk. Disappeared one day. He heard she was in feminine jail. Who knows? Could've been killed in the rebellion last month. He doesn't care. But he cares about the boy. He doesn't want his kid to follow his steps, juvenile jail, crime, jail,crime, death.
End of the day, he goes home. Walking. He doesn't carry his 38 on him anymore. He doesn't want that life again. But he still keeps it. Life in a favela is not easy. You never know. If it's not the drug dealers, it's the police.
Gets home. Boy got shot. Police came down to the favela, angry. Some dealer killed a cop and they wanted revenge. They came shooting towards the houses where the drug dealers should be hanging. The boy was in one of the houses, ready to take a package out.
The man took his 38 out of the drawer.
Next day, in the police pages of the paper: " Man killed after shooting at police station and killing 5 ".
First page: "Sao Paulo Fashion Week is a tremendous success! Governor presence at event surprises organizers"
posted by The Lady of the Lake at 6:03 PM
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