May First, Labor Day. A date marked by struggle, but often nowadays a date marked by the innocence of humanity attempting to discover human rights. We have so few human rights that sometimes I believe we don´t have any at all.
It´s almost three in the afternoon and I´ve returned to the MTST (Movement for the Roofless Workers) camp Joao Candido. They have been out all morning marching downtown for their rights. The leaders compromised of students, militants, lawyers and vast army of popular supporters have united behind the movement to fight a pending eviction threat for Monday, May 7th. The mood in the camp was nothing but surprising. They are in their fighting mode and expecting to win a settlement that will at least drive them from where they are now to another land.
At the uppermost part of the camp, lies section 33. The last area of a total of 33. A group of children and their mother are playing soccer across one of the three they have established. Football may be a birthright in Brazil, but here each field is the only center of entertainment and a form of unison for the movement´s cause. Joao Rodriguez de Jesus, 55 years old, missing all his from teeth and originally from Bahia, is watching alongside three other elder sitting on a log. Leliel, only five years old and with the enthusiasm of gazelle. danced around Joao begging for attention. She also begged to be snapped by the camera. She kept calling out to him, ¨Tio, Tio¨(meaning uncle in Portuguese, but commonly used to refer to an elder friend). I asked to take their portrait and while doing so, tears rolled down Joao´s face. His eyes were small and his face showed the hardships of the land. At first I thought his eyes were ill and that the incessant tears were simply washing out his eyes from some malday. I asked him what was wrong with his eyes. Nothing he told me. They cry because of her. Joao explained to me that Leliel´s father was in jail and still to see a child so happy and full of life on this camp, struggling for a home, made him cry when she called out to him as ¨Tio¨. Joao has lost all hiss family..
The next morning the camp began gathering at its base, preparing for another march to Itapecerica´s city hall. One more of many efforts to come, to pressure the mayor into finding them a solution. Maria Bonita, in her mid 50´s, she would not confess her age, was leading section 12. Her hat was a true representative of the land, the people and their struggle. Yet it was her hard cold eyes and their determination that really demanded a portrait.
At the uppermost part of the camp, lies section 33. The last area of a total of 33. A group of children and their mother are playing soccer across one of the three they have established. Football may be a birthright in Brazil, but here each field is the only center of entertainment and a form of unison for the movement´s cause. Joao Rodriguez de Jesus, 55 years old, missing all his from teeth and originally from Bahia, is watching alongside three other elder sitting on a log. Leliel, only five years old and with the enthusiasm of gazelle. danced around Joao begging for attention. She also begged to be snapped by the camera. She kept calling out to him, ¨Tio, Tio¨(meaning uncle in Portuguese, but commonly used to refer to an elder friend). I asked to take their portrait and while doing so, tears rolled down Joao´s face. His eyes were small and his face showed the hardships of the land. At first I thought his eyes were ill and that the incessant tears were simply washing out his eyes from some malday. I asked him what was wrong with his eyes. Nothing he told me. They cry because of her. Joao explained to me that Leliel´s father was in jail and still to see a child so happy and full of life on this camp, struggling for a home, made him cry when she called out to him as ¨Tio¨. Joao has lost all hiss family..
The next morning the camp began gathering at its base, preparing for another march to Itapecerica´s city hall. One more of many efforts to come, to pressure the mayor into finding them a solution. Maria Bonita, in her mid 50´s, she would not confess her age, was leading section 12. Her hat was a true representative of the land, the people and their struggle. Yet it was her hard cold eyes and their determination that really demanded a portrait.
Miriam used to live in the occupied Prestes Maia 911 in downtown Sao Paulo. Her youngest daughter, aged two, developed an allergy so severe to mold in the building it scaled her skin. The doctor told her she had to move out of wherever she was living. Miriam works as a social assitant for an NGO helping homeless people get off the street. This same NGO helped her buy a one room cinder block house on the periphery slum Jardim Pantanal. Was this a coincidence? I finally found a tie to the Prestes Maia occupation and to the expanding periphery settlements.
She bought the house for US$2,500. She has a paper entitling her to the house but the land on which it stands is owned by someone else, so it's ok until the owner claims the land. In other words someone built a cinder block house on illegal land and sold it. For Miriam to keep her job she has to get her children back into school. Downtown they all went to school. It's full of schools out in the Jardim Pantanal but there are three times as many children. After two months in the periphery she found school for her two eldest. She was thinking of taking the youngest with her downtown, drop her off at the kindergarden and then go to work. She starts work at 7 am. This means she would have to leave home at 430 am walk to the train for 30 min, take a 1 hour train, take the subway to the kindergarden and then go to work. Her social counselor prohibited her from leaving her home with her child at such early hours.
Out here in the periphery her children have nothing to do but hang around the mean streets. Downtown they had a park one block away. Downtown there was infrastructure, restaurants, supermarkets, public transport, etc. Here there is nothing, her home doesn't even have a bathroom and she'e living in dangerous part of the slum. She now believes in the MSTC (Movimento Sem Teto do Centro), even if its corrupted. The MSTC is a socialist movement occupying abandoned buildings downtown, in an attempt to get people off the street or those who can't afford a rent. Miriam knows that no matter what she's not staying here. She's going back to the MSTC and to another occupied building. And she's going back to fight, because she's living proof as she says that when city hall evicts the over 250 families in the Prestes Maia and spreads them out in to the periphery the will have nothing, once again.
