Carlos, André and Leandro - Chain Short Story

Title - Wills over Wheels

Stuart Reynolds was really worried that day. He couldn't stand another month unemployed. But these times have been hard for everybody, not just him. “There will be a thousand other people in this interview. Everybody wants this job. Any job. Damned crisis!”

One more time, the breakfast was very poor, just a cup of black coffee and two pieces of toast, but he barely noticed. He was reading the mortgage letter that had arrived the day before, while he was doing nothing, as usual. Sometimes, he found out in the last weeks, it was difficult to deal with time. People want more time to live, but there's a certain limit. After this limit, you start to face yourself, and you start to question the meaning of everything. This morning he dared to open it, after hours staring at it. “Even though I sell everything that I have, I'll be just postponing my eviction. Maybe for a month or two.”

Finally, the time to get out for the interview came. He went out, astonished by the fact that the idea of selling everything was not bothering him. After all, he wanted to start from the beginning again. A new life for a new man. That was his dream.

That job would be a new chance, another attempt to do his best and forget the mistakes that had put him in this situation. However, Stuart was very tired and a little hopeless. The last twenty interviews he had made were absolutely discouraging: lots of people, very few vacancies, a whole day lost and… nothing, not even a call. “Well, keep trying Stuart, if you stop the ship it will sink faster!” he said to himself.
When he got out the house, he noticed a strange man on the sidewalk. Despite the sun, he was wearing a black overcoat, and his fedora hat and the sunglasses didn’t let Stuart see his face. He was smoking a cigarette very quietly in front of a black car with very dark tainted windows As Stuart was getting close, the man said:
- Good morning, Mr. Reynolds!
- Good morning, Mr. … sorry, do we know each other?
- Maybe... I am an old friend of your father’s. We used to work together.
- Oh, really? What’s your name?
- Do you have a minute to talk?
- Sorry, your name is...?
- Ok. It’s simple. One question, one answer.
- Look, you don’t want to talk, me neither . I have an interview and can’t wait h...
- Mr. Reynolds, do you want some money?
- What?
- Don’t you get it? Money? Easy job, clean money?
- What the hell...? But, who are you, what money?
- No questions now! Just yes or no.
- I can’t wait anymore! Sorry, I must go!
- Ohh, go on! Try another one! You are a big hard head, Mr. Reynolds. We both know that this interview will fail, like the others! Come on, face it! You are in a hole, going down and down! And I saw your eviction letter Mr. Reynolds, I saw it... Your father would be very disappointed! Look at what you’ve done with his property!
Those words made Stuart stop walking, and many things start to come to his mind. “Who is this man? How does he know about my life? And my father?... Yes, I need money, but what kind of proposal is that? A man just came here and offers me a job?”
Despite this doubts and feelings, Stuart was very upset about his problems. If he waits one more month, his life will be in a situation that he couldn't even imagine to be. He wanted to try another way. “The man got to my weak point, I don’t know how to solve that...That’s enough! It shouldn’t be so hard”, Stuart thought.
- Yes or no, Mr. Reynolds?
-.... Yes, but what kind of job is that?
- Get into the car. My boss will explain to you.

Stuart felt a chill on his spine, but what else could he do? Whatever he started to think about, it always ends with a simple thought: “I need money”. His life could be in danger by accepting to enter that car with those men, but no one could guarantee he’d be safe if he refused the invitation

- What if I refu…

- You won’t refuse it Mr. Reynolds and we both know it!

- Ok, ok, I’m going with you. I don’t know who you are nor why you’re here but I guess I have no choice.

- Good, please enter the car now. You won’t regret it.

As soon as the engine starts, Stuart begins to ask questions but the mysterious man just ignores him until he feels bothered by one of the questions.

- Who is your boss?

- Ok Mr. Reynolds, I see you didn’t get it. I’ll answer you this one for once and then I hope you’ll just keep your mouth shut until we reach our destination. See this car? See these men? Are they talking to you?

Those words seemed nonsense for Stuart. Suddenly the man turns his head to one of his crew:

- Hey, you, say hi to Mr. Reynolds.

- Hi there Mr. Reynolds. We are glad that you have accepted…

- That’s enough, thanks. I think Mr. Reynolds had his question properly answered.

…

The car stopped after two hours. Stuart couldn’t recognize the place because he felt kinda dizzy. There were some guys dressed with jumpsuits as professional race drivers and doing some physical training. Some of them were wearing helmets and some weren’t. Stuart saw one of the guys falling on the ground and quickly recovering his pace to keep up with the others. They seemed determined to accomplish their tasks. He was taken inside an old warehouse. It was dark inside there and the mysterious man finally started talking:

- Lights on, guys.

The place could now be seen, but it was not very understandable for Stuart. He could see some forklifts painted like they were stock cars. None of them were like normal forklifts. They were completely overhauled. Inside the warehouse he could see a complete racetrack.

- Mr. Reynolds, we have been watching you and we know you have some skills we might find useful. You might never have heard about what the hell we are supposed to do here because it’s been kept as a secret for ages. You might’ve already heard about some “accidents” inside local supermarkets, but the press never releases the full story because we have some people inside working for us to prevent this from happening. What we run here is an illegal Forklift Racing League, the next step in motorsports.

- Are you mad? What I'm supposed to do here?

- Wait and see.

They walked through the pit lane, climbed two flights of stairs, and got into a room. There they found a bald old man sitting on an upholstered chair behind a hardwood table. Lots of racing souvenirs were scattered around the room.

- Nice to meet you, Mr. Reynolds. I've been waiting for you.

- I wonder if you are supposed to explain me what the hell is going on here.

- Of course I will.

The old man nodded to the man on Stuart's side, and the man left the room.

- My name is Joseph Battista, and now you're my employee.

- I don't think so! Those gorillas went to my house and...

- Did they put you in the car against your will?

- No, but I didn't know...

- There you reached your no return point.

The strength and the confidence in Battista's voice scared Stuart.

– Your father worked for me for twenty-five years. And I know his talent is running through your veins.

– This can't be true. Now I see! You got the wrong guy. My father was just a janitor!

– That is what you were supposed to know. But he was, in fact, the best racing driver I've ever known. With his talent, I ruled the underground racings for almost two decades. He was also my best friend... And now, after mourning for ten years, I feel I have to regain my throne.

– So I guess I'll drive one of those machines.

– That's it.

“My father, a racing driver? I can't believe it.”

…

He accepted the proposal without further questioning. After all, the whole situation was much more comfortable than he had speculated during the long trip to this place. “Speculating about this job during the trip made me think I had to do something harder. Kill a man. Deliver a package in a dangerous place. But this... this is gonna be a piece of cake. And it doesn't look like I'm able to escape from here. After all, I have no idea where I am. This desert is hot as hell... I guess we are in New Mexico”.

…

It was still 4:30 AM when Stuart fell from his bed due to the noisy sound that kicked his dreams away. “A gong? What the hell!” thought Stuart. He was still dizzy when a young freckled boy busted in his room and threw some clothes on him:

- “C’mon your lazy bitc… O-H M-Y G-O-D!!! It’s true! He is here! I told them it was him! Mommy, momm…” And suddenly he ran away.

Stuart took the clothes out from his face and got dressed quickly. When he looked on the mirror, he was using an old blue janitor suit. On its back, it was written “JAN” and the number 77.

- This was yours father’s suit. We used to call him “Jan” and he added “Jan, the man who jams with all the girls”. So he was known before he “jammed” with the right chick… And that’s how you join this story and your father turned into a helluva driver. It’s incredible what true love can do…

- You mean my mother? You know her too?

- Sure! She was one of our cheerleaders! But don’t worry, she was not a “slut”, her only passion was dance, your father and you. She quit our company when you were born. But your father had all of this running inside his veins and he couldn’t quit in time…

- I see… I suppose he died because some sort of accident.

- No! He died from a hot-dog he saved for later!

- !?

Mr. Battista started crying.

- Poor guy… I told him I’d make a fresh one after the race, but…

- You killed my father by giving him a rotten hot-dog?

Mr. Battista started crying harder.

- It was not his fault! He was crazy for hot-dogs and he couldn’t stand any food waste… He asked my wife to make him a hot-dog because he was hungry… But she was sick and it took her longer to finish. The race was about to start and he didn’t have time to eat and asked me to keep it for later. It was a long race and the heat was very intense, the hot-dog couldn’t survive. I told him I’d make a fresh one myself but he took it from my bag saying “YOU SHALL NOT PASS” and put it on his mouth. After he finished, he said it was the best he had ever tried and started a speech about how we need to avoid food waste… but then he…

Stuart felt bad for Mr. Battista. Surely he had proven to be not a bad guy. All that talk about his father had grown more courage on him to accept the fate that he was the chosen one.

…

Mr. Battista took Stuart to the pit lane… A lot of drivers were getting inside the forklifts, but none of them were moving to the racetrack.

- Ok Mr. Battista… I’m so excited to test my skills.

- Test? We don’t have time for this, It’s the last race on the season and we need you to win so we’ll be the champions once again.

- No kidding!

- There’s the 1 minute flag… You better race it like your father… good luck son!

Mr. Battista ran away to the pit lane with the rest of the crew and Stuart grabbed the wheel for the first time… He was still surprised by the fact that 2 hours before he was sleeping and now he is driving forklifts illegally.

- LET’S JAM THIS ONE, GUYS!

The red lights turned on… and then the green and Stuart smashed his foot on the gas pedal like he knew what he was doing. He was starting on the last place and there were 25 other racers. The hoar of the engines were so loud that they couldn’t notice a distant sound that was approaching… It was like some kind of “police siren”

Stuart couldn’t ever imagine that one day he would be in a forklift race. And his dad had covered this for his whole life..“How come?” - he thought. But there was no time to think and wonder about the past. He must win and he doesn’t know exactly what would happen if he didn’t..

The first laps were a true revelation for Stuart. He felt it wasn’t so difficult and it seemed he got the perfect timing for changing gears, brake and accelerate without losing the speed, what gave him a good position, leaving many opponents behind. Course, he used to drive his old car very well some years ago, but he’d never tried something like that. He felt that he really knew how to do it.

The track wasn’t a simple one, with many obstacles - boxes, tires and some shelves left on the way, like a real warehouse. Several racers crashed into those obstacles, which caused many accidents and a huge damage to their forklifts. Stuart became a bit scared when realized his life could be in danger . But these accidents allowed him to gain good positions in a few laps.

During the race, that distant sound became louder, but the racers still couldn’t hear because of the noise of their cars. Unfortunately, it was the police siren that had just arrived. Inside the warehouse a red flashing light was turned on meaning that the race would finish in a very short time due to the cops outside. But Stuart didn’t know this security protocol and continue doing his best. “It should be nothing, keep going!” – he thought.

The Forklift Racing League is considered an illegal one because it involves lots of dirty money. The big megastore companies sponsor this kind of motorsport as a dispute for monopoly concessions in some regions of the USA. Furthermore, several millionaires make their bets and the race becomes a kind of gamble game. The police are always searching where this racing happens, as an attempt to get the leaders, but they never get them.

Mr. Battista was ready to run away with his fellows while the police was trying to unlock the warehouse’s big door. It wasn’t the first time that the police discovered the place and it wouldn’t be the last. The alert for the cops modify the racer’s behavior: some became more aggressive, others, unfocused . They must win and escape from the cops .

Finally, in the final lap, the police got into the warehouse and with their cars started to pursue the racers. Stuart was in the second position and only noticed something strange when he saw the first position racer giving up and running outside the track. When Stuart was very close to the end, he saw the police waiting for him.

- Yeah, fellow! You’re the winner. Now leave this vehicle and put your hands up!

- But, what have I done?? I was just driving!

- Shut up and freeze! – they said pointing their guns at Stuart

- Ok ok!

Then, Stuart was arrested and had no choice but to explain the facts. At this time, he was thinking: “Ok, I have no money, no job and I’m in jail! Very well, that’s my prize”. But he wasn’t feeling frustrated. That day he discovered his father’s history, and discovered himself. “I would do this again, if I get out of here one day”. While he was thinking about this special day, he fell asleep.

By the morning, he woke up with a voice saying:

- Mr. Reynolds!! Get up Mr. Reynolds! Do you want to live here? You are free! Go away!

- What?

- Yes, someone has paid your fine.

- But who?

- We don’t know. We just receive the money.

-----Three weeks later…

“6:00pm, it’s time to go home! Another workday complete“, Stuart thought. Since he got a small job in a local supermarket his life became a little bit steady. His financial problem hasn’t been solved yet, but it’s better than nothing. Without this money, he would be lost. The only problem that still upset him was his mortgage.

On the way home, Stuart remembered the experience with the forklifts. He really loved the felling of speed and danger. “I would try again, I swear! If it was a legal one, I would…”

Near the corner of his house, he felt a car was following him. He looked back, but that raining night and the shadows of the trees didn’t allow him to identify the car. When he turned the corner, a man with a black overcoat and a big umbrella seemed to be waiting for him.

- Mr. Reynolds!

- Who are you?

- We really like your job.

- What job?

- C’mom, don’t be stupid ! You know…

- Wait, are you talking about…

- Yeah…the League! And…sorry for the cops, it rarely happens. Lucky day yours!

- Course, I’m on a roll… And you said ‘easy money’, but I am still waiting for this money…

- Sorry, we had to pay a big police bribe for your freedom.

- Ok, what can I do …?

- Whatever. Now we have a proposal.

- Another?

- Yeah, five thousand at the beginning, and more each race you run. Mr. Reynolds, do you want to join our team?

- …

Next day, Stuart arrived late at his job. He said to his boss that he got sick because of the raining night before and couldn’t sleep the whole night. But there was a strong smell of gasoline in his clothes that he couldn’t explain…

Augusto - Short Fiction

Matter, a little genetics and a big medley of feelings and psychiatric diseases...

Sarah Truman just smiled and waved as a car crashed into the back of hers. She gently left the car and said, almost happy:

 That's OK. We'll solve it later, just give me your number.

A little surprised and very proud of herself, she came back to her car and went away. She couldn't be more satisfied about her decision. She knew that one year ago, that single happening would have pulled her down the whole week.
Instead, she arrived in her job glad she was fine and ready for one good work day. Everybody kept staring at her a little curious, a little envious and a little scared. She really wasn't the same person since she’d done it.

*********************************************

 As we can see – continued Clark Truman, not far from there – we can't see any stress symptom at this patient, and even no signs of stress-induced disease. Sarah Truman used to be an ultimate example of stress complications and damages. Headaches, warts, many kinds of eye outbreaks, social and professional problems and even heart diseases were observed.

The audience was astonished. Was that a real and definitive cure for that complicated disease?

 In this scenario, the stress situation may lead to damages in many levels. Sometimes, as we've seen in Sarah's case, depression. Sarah tried to do away with herself many times, spanked her own children twice and absolutely gave up her life in consequence of those intense stress crises. Many years of treatment weren’t enough even to make her stop the suicide attempts. That's why our staff decided to try the Intensive Psychiatrist Behavior Changing, which we called IPBC.

Clark was glad he could withhold his emotions and approach this topic with such distance and detachment. After all, he was proud for what he had done.

*******************************************************

When Sarah arrived, Clark was already home, as usual. With an old and corny sweater and his terribly unfashionable favorite glasses, Clark was lain in the sofa reading carefully some academic reports, while their youngest child filled in all his most important documents with flowers and teddy bears.
Sarah just walked directly to the kitchen and came back with a cup of steaming hot tea.

 How was your day?
 Excellent. People from all around the world were in the conference this afternoon. They're very interested in the IPBC and specially in your successful case.
 What about the researches?
 Ow... It's amazing! All the tests with rats and even monkeys are encouraging. I really think that soon we'll be able to apply the IPBC to other psychiatric disturbances. Tomorrow we'll present it to a multinational company that intends to invest more than 15 millions dollars in our project! Do you know what it means?
 I'm so proud of you.

Sarah went to bed, and only woke up when the alarm rang 5 AM. Clark kissed her on the forehead and brushed his teeth. He knew it would be a big day.
Clark arrived early at the company and waited anxiously for the investors. At 7 AM he started:

 What does a psychiatric disease mean? Are there physiological differences between a person with a mental disease and a healthy one? Actually, there are. As we know, many people suffer from chemically induced psychiatric diseases. An under production of serotonin may lead to a depression state, an excessive adrenaline production may lead to a stress outbreak... Feelings are chemical reactions... Psychiatric diseases are chemical imbalances.

Clark couldn't withhold his enthusiasm.

 The psychotropic drugs are nothing but substances that supply the brain's lack of production. That way, a chemical intervention may help many patients with psychological problems. For many years, our laboratory has been researching the human brain in order to discovery how and why these substances are under production. And we've deeply described those control processes. Some neurons are able to stimulate those productions and others to inhibit them. Nowadays, we're able to know precisely what each of them makes.

Clark sipped some water, more to give the audience some time to think than because of his thirst, and continued:

 After decades of study, with some help from nanotechnology we finally developed the Intensive Psychiatrist Behavior Changing. This surgical procedure consists of making some microscopic scars in specific regions of the human brain disabling some neuron activities. This way we're able to inactivate some substances production suppressors or supporters.
 But, if the suppression of one substance is totally blocked, so the brain begins an uninterrupted production... How could we control it?
 Actually, many groups of neurons are able to do it, so we can choose how many we're going to damage. After many researches, we're able to know how many is necessary. That way we can definitely heal some psychiatric diseases. During the past two years, we did three successful cortisol/adrenaline control surgery for extremely stressed people. Our company is very proud to say that in all cases the problem was completely solved and those people are able to live a normal life, as they couldn't for years. Now, we're trying to expand the IPBC to other substances and consequently to other diseases, like depression, attention deficit, schizophrenia and others.
 What you're proposing seems to be a definitive process. We aren't able to reverse the IPBC. Do you think the process is reliable enough?
 My first patient was my own wife.

Clark knew that this would show them how he trusted in the process. The conversation continued for a while, but after his convincing arguments the points were more about curiosities and bureaucracies. It was almost dark when he left the company. Tired, but very satisfied.
The company decided to fund the IPBC's researches and the technique was deeply improved. Almost one decade after, they were able to deal with almost all psychiatric diseases. People all over the world did the IPBC and the success ratio was impressive; People disinterested in sports or math could easily change it in matters of hours. Depressed people could decide how much Serotonin their brain would produce.
Clark Truman became the most famous name on the psychiatric science and her company the richest of the medical area. The IPBC became very popular and widespread.

**********************************************

Sarah turned off the telephone and came complaining about her third inconclusive call to the bank. Sarah entered he room and patiently talked about many big absurdities that were happening to her bank account. Almost snobbishly, she explained to her husband what was happening. Clark was outraged about the situation.

 Just calm down! Everything is gonna be OK! They're from the bank! They're supposed to complicate our lives!

Sarah sweetly giggled and went to the kitchen. Clark couldn't stop thinking that the IPBC changed her humor, but our humor is directly related to our ways of thoughts, our ways of life.

 That's not my wife. - Clark whispered to himself.

********************************************

Clark's company had been growing since IPBC was created. Everything was wonderful, except himself. Many years later, people were used to deciding about their personality. Clark became each day more alone and reserved. Focused on his own research, but not as it used to be: sharing and trying results, but lonely and quiet. Nobody knew what he was doing.
The IPBC was now a fever. Everybody wanted to be braver or more concentrated. It really bothered Clark. He never allowed advertisements of his company, but it wasn't necessary. Instead, he always tried to convince people not to do the IPBC:

 Try to accept yourself!

Now it was out of control. Other companies began to do the IPBC, people requested the government to do it. To be stressed was considered to be disrespectful to other people, to be depressed is an exclusivity for those who deny the surgery. And then began the psychological dictatorship. More than ever, you had to be what seemed the normal.
Clark was going to have lunch and heard:

 I'm going to get Nicole Kidman's nose, Angelina Jolie's mouth and Michael Phelp's discipline for sports.

Next week the report spread all the company and after, all the media: Clark was going to have the IPBC. “Why? What are you going to change? How did you decide?” Clark didn't answer anything.

***************************************************

Clark entered the surgery room. Only one reliable member of the staff knew what to do:

 Why are doing this? Do you know what it means?
 Have you seen what I've done? Can't you see those people on the streets? They are not better people, they are other people. I've turned everybody into the same framed person. They don't know who they are, neither do I.
 Those people, now, have the choice to be healed of serious diseases. They can live a normal life!
 What the hell is a normal life??? Hm? What is the human being if it isn't a portion of flaccid and perishable matter, and a big fucking medley of selfish feelings and psychiatric diseases? That's what you are. Your depression, your happiness, your anxiety and all the trouble in your mind. We can't separate who you are from your suffering. That's all the same thing. We studied enough to know that what we think, HOW we think, our conclusions and everything else are directly related to our feelings. I have always been against all this bullshit of psychiatric chemical intervention. I really think that stopping depression and other diseases by using psychotropic drugs was like creating zombies. How could I do this? I must have been too hopeless about Sarah to do this... I turned the world into a big margarine advertisement!

Sarah stared at them through the surgery room glass. She couldn't hear them, but she knew exactly what was happening. She was very upset about his decision, but only that. She wasn't able to flounce or to stop the staff. She just stared with wet eyes.

 Look at those silly, naive and cold eyes.... Is that Sarah? It isn't her. And she knows it.

Clark and Sarah kept the eye contact until that the anesthesia made him get sleep.

************************************************

Apparently Clark woke up the same person. Even he was surprised. But everybody, including him, knew that things had really changed.
Clark was an extremist. He refused to feel anything unpleasant. Sadness, anger, anxiety, stress... Now he lives like a dog. No worries, no hard feelings, no complaining, no growing and absolutely no conflict resolutions.

 It was like a suicide. Painless for my family and friends. Now I just am.

Nancy - Short Fiction

Diverting the attention of everybody

It seemed to be as a routine. My father left us in the school very early and went to the farm. I loved that school to which I had moved that year. It was located in the highest place of the town and had a large place where we used to play during the breaks. I had learned new games and had made different friends.
The class had finished for that day. We were ready to go home, but we couldn't. At least for some time. An unusual movement was taking place at the train station and we could not take the train, said the station officer. Three police cars were parked in the street behind the station. It was the first time I had seen so many vehicles together in that little town. Fortunately, my brother was with me but I started to be scared, I just wanted to go home. My friends were also upset about what was happening. We used to go home by train, a twenty minutes trip and fifteen minutes walking, always hungry but happy. That day was going to be different and we could not tell our parents, we didn't have telephones nor any way to say that we were going to be late.
My brother, who is two years older than me, was trying to protect me, but as a boy, he was more curious than me. He went to the corner of the station building and looked at the front side of the building. He beckoned to me to follow him. As I watched what was happening, I couldn't believe. There was a freight train parked and many policemen carrying heavy guns that I had never seen before in all my life. Some of them were ready to shoot and two were waiting for an exact moment to open the wagon sliding door. My imagination had gone to the war stories my mother used to read for us in Japanese. Few minutes had passed and the officers finally opened the door, but no one was inside the wagon. They acted in the same manner for the rest of wagons but nothing happened. The operation had finished and the policemen seemed to be disappointed. Our train arrived and we went home with a long delay.
What we heard in the next day was the follow: as we were in the military dictatorship time there were terrorists escaping from the regime and they were supposed to be hidden in the forests of Ribeira Valley. The police was chasing them that day. But it was not all. While the military police was performing the operation, somebody had stolen one of the police car and we heard that it had been found intact in the neighboring district, ten kilometers away from our little town! The guilty was never found.

Nivaldo - Short Fiction

PICKING UP THE BOTTOM OF THE TRUNK

The City
In the fifties São Paulo was forming the city of nowadays. There were car industries, among others, being established and exploding an atmosphere of progress on all sides. At that time, an environment was being created in which the new middle class was generated.
Geographically saying, there was the city center where all things went on and where the commerce shops, offices, bars and restaurants and cinemas and theaters were settled. The people worked and played in the center.

The neighborhood
I used to live in Vila Pompéia, at that time considered outskirts of the city. The place is quite hilly. There were a lot of hills then transformed in streets all unpaved.
On one side in the valley there was a mulberry tree in the edge of a stream that snaked through the streets where the public school and the ice cream shop received the children
At the top of one hill, there was the center of the neighborhood where the church rested out along with small commerce around and the bus stop with long lines of the people struggling to enter in the CMTC bus, the metropolitan company of buses. On the other side at the top of another hill, today Cerro Corá Avenue, there was a house where someone was killed and his spirit was there asking for vengeance. On the valley between the two hills a small farm was placed where people would go to buy fresh milk.

The People
There were child groups as the street top group, street down group and so on. The children had two or three pastimes to spend the afternoon after the school homework. We played soccer on the street, today Pompeia Avenue. Eventually when a car came the game stopped and we waited it to pass. There were also games of season as flying kites or releasing balloons we had made, all those mixed with playing tops and marbles.
On Sunday morning the people surrounded the church, at first to watch the mass and after to flirt with the girls leaving the church. In the afternoon guys went to the banks of Tiete River to play soccer on the place where today the Marginal Tiete is.

The Family
My grandfather by my mother´s side was Italian and arrived in Brazil in 1920 with a lot of Europeans, perhaps fleeing out the first Great War. He married a Brazilian girl, my grandmother, and they had 14 children. My grandfather and grandmother by my father´s side were Spanish and they had 3 children in Spain, they passed through Argentina and more 3 children and finally they arrived to Brazil and more 3.
The families of the brothers were so close. They helped each other and economically grew with the development of São Paulo. In general all the family was together in special occasions having lunch, often homemade capeletti, and drinking red wine which my grandfather had bottled at home.
These pieces of live explain a bit the nature of the formation of our society, with a lot of immigrants that arriving to São Paulo and mixing with the people from here. It generated new workforce, new ideas, new ideals, and a new life.

Beth - Short Fiction

AUTOBIOGRAPHY

I needed to choose one point to begin talking about my life. I think it is good starting when my father’s parents came from Syria. Firstly, they decided to live in the countryside of Campinas where they lived for approximately 20 years. After that time, my grandfather caught a lung disease which caused him a large amount of suffering until his death.
Soon, my grandmother and her 11 children had to get another different way of life. They considered living in a big city could bring more opportunities and they moved as soon as possible. The place they had chosen was property of my mother’s parents where everything happened. My parents, João and Izabel, suddenly met and fell madly in love and married three years later.
In 1956, their first-born was born, me. My parents chose my first name based on an epic film acted by Elizabeth Taylor. Even before I was born, they had already decided the first daughter would receive this name.
I am the oldest child of my family and since the tender age of childhood I had to take care of my younger sisters, this responsibility making me feel a stronger child. On the other hand, my first day at school showed that I needed a lot of care because after my mother let me in a classroom I was crying a lot and my fragility and sadness were obvious for everyone else.
I was not considered an excellent student , not a bad one either, but in general I was always successful in exams or courses. I studied High School at Fundação Bradesco, which provided a technical school Business Administration. This Course was very important to help me to choose my profession later. At that time, I got my first job. I was working during the day and studying at night. As soon as I went to University I had got a new job in an American bank which provided an interesting kind of work and a good monthly salary for four years. Afterwards, I worked in other companies that offered good promotion prospects. At the same time, I made a lot of friends in those jobs and one of them was the most important friend who later became my husband, Francisco.
One year later, after my marriage, my daughter was born and this enjoyable event gave us pleasure. Isabela is her name. She was the first grandchild besides being very nice and beautiful girl with her adorable blue eyes, she transformed the family’s life. Isabela grew up and her success with everyone delighted us.
I would like to say that I dealt with motherhood and my professional career at the same time and that caused me no great difficulty and worry. It was possible or easier for me because I had my parents who helped us every time we needed.
Nowadays, I am feeling calm and satisfied with my life and when I look back, I can see that many objectives were achieved. However, I was willing to do a lot of things such as studying, learning, working and so on. Therefore, I am really looking forward to starting a new job which I have passed in open competition.
I can imagine when one is reading my writing, he/she will think : Isn’t there any sad or unpleasant fact to relate in this life story? The answer is: I am living a very satisfactory and pleasant life , so I can say that at this moment I can’t bring anything bad to my mind.

Lucas - Short Fiction

The daily fear


I had dreamed of becoming a journalist. Perhaps the reason of it was my mother when she said that “truth is the first of values” – normally after some mischief. However, the more I grew up, the more I realized that in your daily lives we are set to compromise with truth. From this painful contradiction my career would be traced.
Journalism, the big one, is my life choice. Besides the difficult nature of the job, I had to come down with another ugly fact: I chose the most dangerous job in my country. In the last ten years, more than two hundred journalists have been murdered (or simply “disappeared”) due to their work as “truth-seekers”. Roberto B., who was shot dead in front of his family last year by drug-dealers, once said to me that “Here in Ciudad Juárez we journalists have two possibilities, either compromise with truth, or with fear”. Once more I faced the contradiction.
After five long years studying in foreign countries, I came back last year to become a journalist in CJ. What was my surprise when I found out the obvious fact that all the newspapers of the city are owned by the same person. Mister A. Maya. “Things go like this nowadays”, I thought, It is the effects of globalization and monopoly”. However, when I received an email inviting me to a job interview in the very house of Mister A. Maya, owner of Ciudad Juárez Daily News and all means of communication as far as El Passo Texas, I had to stop believing.
Here everybody knows the source of CJ’s violence. It is an intricate system entangling a failed State, global corporations hunger for cheap labor force for the “maquiladoras”, and bundles of outlaws who fight for taking control of coca’s routes to the US. How do all these things fix together? I have no idea. But if there is a Truth, it is our duty to look for it.
When the piece of white paper in front of me asked to fill in the blanks with my full name, and my social security number, I gave one more step toward desolation. After all the ‘writing text’ of CJ Daily News would be just another mise en scene for hiring biased journalists. Either work, or your conviction. Either truth, or safely sleep. Probably my roommates – who would know exactly how to fill in suchblanks – were “son of someone” or just a father trying desperately to feed his newborn children. Who knows? What I know is there is no place for ambiguities in this job. Either you are a journalist, or you aren’t. Either you live by their rules, or you live with fear. I made my choice.

In the most optimistic scenery, which is a hollywoodian one in fact, I’ll become famous delivering encouraging speech worldwide for (ironically) the coca consumers of Ciudad Juárez. I received one or two awards, and a polite nomination to running for the Pulitz. My death would be quickly and abroad. A soft end for somenone who let his hometown dying slowing in the desert. In the worst scenery… well… nobody knows how Mister A. Maya will received the news that a “rebellious” and “trouble-seeker” candidate named Carlos B. has used his failed writing text for application in CJ Daily News to illustrate the first page of the brave new newspaper of Ciudad Juarez: The Daily Truth.
I have to face the fact that my life is in danger now. But I don’t care. I have chosen the Juarez daily fear. As everyone else.

Beth - Essay on Immigration

IMMIGRATION IN OUR SOCIETY

According to the Helsinki statement immigration is considered a human right and must be guaranteed everywhere. In reality this rules is not considered by many countries. So, even if we are living in a plural society, we can feel significant increase in intolerance of immigration.
Most of the time, specialists claim that cultural differences are responsible for the unacceptable face of immigration. We know that the Japanese or Chinese people don’t have European culture and an American culture either. By the way, Asian people have lived an orderly life in the USA differently from Afro-Americans who have had difficulties to immigrate or to stay in this country. Also, people of South American or East European origins are frequently refused by some Western European or North American countries although they have more cultural approach than Eastern people
The narrow-minded opinions against immigration have proved to be very selective. In fact, the socioeconomic condition is the main cause for refusing immigrants by society. However, migrations within Western countries with highly developed economy have not caused resistance among them, as well as migration between underdeveloped countries.
The socioeconomic aspect gets evident around the old colony immigrants who have long cultural experience and even though they have been reject as everyone who comes from the underdeveloped countries.
Nowadays, we have many cases over the world that cause immigrant rejection because of their bad socioeconomic condition. In the USA this act has regularly occurred on the border with Mexican people. Recently, everyone can see the news about restrictions of immigrants in Arizona state at special against Latino and also poor people. On the other hand, it is very rare in this country to find strict limits on immigrants who come from developed place. In this way it can make a question “Would it be everybody legal immigrants?”
In conclusion, the large majority of people accept migratory movements between similar economies. Also they assume that movements must be avoided between different economies. Therefore, it is clear that the Immigrant will always have a great difficulty to deal with cultural and socioeconomic difference.

Lucas - Essay on Immigration

Immigration


Immigration and globalization are today the two hot topics concerning the futures of States. Strangely enough, these two concepts work toward different directions. When we think of globalizations patterns of economic or social-cultural interactions we usually conceive a harmonic conviviality between different – or even antagonists – worldviews. In this “optimistic” account, ethnic discrepancies turn into global benefits for everyone as for example increasing profits worldwide, deepening our cultural understanding or preventing military conflicts in the borders. However, hardly can anyone state the same regarding immigration. Instead of praising pluralism and searching for new ways for doing politics, the immigration debate in the western countries nowadays brings up the oldest feature of human society: the fear of the stranger.

The end of Cold War has let out an enormous amount of local tensions worldwide. One example was the rise of new capitalist economies in Europe during the 90’s after the breakdown of the Soviet system. At first they were praised as welcome brothers in Europe Union. It has taken just a couple of years for xenophobic movements to start their campaigns against the East European countries. Although episodes of intolerance are relatively common in this context, the case against South-North migration is a more powerful one because it goes beyond European case, affecting all the developed countries in the world. Second, it seems to be the pattern of cultural struggle in the next decades, literally a “clash of civilizations”. Old colonies (in the European context) and poor neighbors (in the US) become the origin of massive immigration fluxes responsible for supplying the low-rated jobs in rich countries. Some demographers, for example, predict that in 2050 protestant whites will not be the majority of U.S. population. Maybe even English will have lost its hegemony as the only official language…

For the cultural and economic establishment of developed countries it sounds catastrophic. The increasing rates of unemployment and violence are commonly used as argument for those who look forward to enclosing the economy and strengthening the legislation against illegal immigrants. But a second look can provide us with a better picture of the circumstances. Beginning with the question if immigrants are the cause of unemployment - which is a kind of absurd when we realize that immigrants and natives do not compete with each other for the same jobs (immigrants take in general unqualified jobs and lower wages) - in the long run demographic rates compel us to be skeptical about anti-immigration laws. The decline of native population is a pattern in all industrial societies. It means that in the future the current lack of unqualified employers may yoke the lack of qualified employers in the same economies. It is not an absurd when we consider the fact that the dynamism of U.S. culture, along with the history of Western Europe, is one of the fruits of the nineteenth century’s fluxes of immigration. At first, a low-rated job might attract a poor family from a distant country, looking for a new life. But in two or three generations, considering the system of educational opportunities in developed countries, their children and grandchildren might become the next generation of brilliant scientists, professors and politicians. Just look at the Syllicon Valley, the Ivy League or the White House in the U.S. How many foreigner surnames will we find out? The American situation can be read as the paradigmatic situation for Europe and all others countries which intend to establish themselves as the new world potencies.

Ezequiel - Essay on Immigration

Connections.

On August 17th, our English class received a visitor from Belgium. The guy is friend of Elton’s. We had an interview with him, which is reflected in this composition about immigration in our society.
Nowadays, it is common to think of the concept of “transnationality”. If we consider companies that have been created in one country but now sell products everywhere, and have become “multinationals”, we can understand a bit more about what is to belong to a globalized world.
Businesses have to be done, meetings must happen, congresses have to be made. I know this is not “immigration” strictly, but it is a kind of habit which helps to make come true the dream of an Earth without borders, a Global Village.
New generations are used to using the computer to make friends from a lot of places and cultures, which means the idea of being from this or that nation is becoming weaker. For them, there is not a strong feeling of patriotism, because people usually move virtually from a country to another in a few seconds and this is just a reflex from what happens in reality: “our planet is smaller than it used to be.”
We can see that the quantity of immigrants, no matter where, has increased. It is so due to higher speeds and lower prices in transportation. People are more confident about travelling and making a living in another land. This kind of phenomenon helps us to be more tolerant and open-minded to others’ beliefs, customs, ideas, and behaviors and, last but not least, frontiers.
On the other hand, there are local people that usually become afraid of new folks in their area. They are very conservative on this and try to make immigration more difficult. In some cases, it happens because of high costs of taxes, partly used to support welfare to illegal immigrants from poorer countries.
This prejudice turns into anger and there are some parties stating that immigrants mustn’t continue in a place that is not theirs. Sometimes, they try to hurt or kill foreigners to intimidate others to come to “their country”.
But, in our Global Village, what is the meaning of “own”? Just because you have been born somewhere, it doesn’t necessarily mean that the place is nobody else’s. Sometimes you’re more connected to someone in the other side of the world, but have never met your own neighbor! In this case, what would be the place you belong to or the nation that is just yours? It seems that these questions are losing their logical meaning in our era. There are no more space to radicalism, let’s leave it out and enjoy the fantastic and fast connections we can make anytime, which are possible just because we are in the 21th century.

Carlos - Essay on immigration

About Immigration

Last week we received at our English Class the visit of Louis, a Belgian young man that came to Poli as an exchange student. He told us about the immigration life in Belgium.
An interesting fact I learned from the interview was about the multilingualism of Belgium. This country is divided in three Communities or three Regions where the local population speaks different languages. So someone that is thinking of immigrating to this country has to think about this. In the Flemish Region (Flanders), for example, the main language is Dutch. Wallon Region (Wallonia) is a German-speaking Region and at the Brussels-Capital Region the official language is French. Although these three languages are official languages at these Regions, Belgium has also different local dialects.
Our interviewee spoke to us in English. As it is usual in European countries, in spite of a mother local language, English is the academic and business language, so the most recent young population speaks English as a second language. As our interviewee came from the Belgian Region where French is the official language, he has an English with a French accent.
Louis was invited to visit our English Class because we had studied a lesson about the Patel brothers whose family immigrated from an Asia country to Kenya – Africa. So the family had a native spoken language and at the new country they had to speak the local dialect or the Swahili and English, because Kenya is a multilingual country. When the two Patel brothers, Vijay and Bhikhu were young they had another immigration experience. They moved to the UK. In this new country they made fortune.
As a subject of our English Class we listened to a tape with the Patel brothers answering about their immigration experience in the UK. As Louis they speak English with an accent, but differently from Louis’s their accent is not a French accent. I suppose they have an Asian or African accent.
When a person is thinking about immigrating to another country there are several important questions to think about, as local rules about immigration, for example. Nowadays, the European countries are becoming increasingly xenophobic countries, probably due to economical reasons. This is a serious question to consider when someone is planning to immigrate. The most secure way to immigrate is to have legal papers. Someone with no legal papers living at another country has to survive with a psychological strain every day - What can happen to me if I’m caught without papers?
Louis spoke to us about the liberal immigrant context that they have in Belgium. The immigrants, even those who live there without legal papers have no problems with the authorities. He gave us an example of this. His Brazilian Portuguese teacher lives there without papers. When the authorities ask for her papers and she can’t prove that she is in a legal situation in Belgium, the authorities by their turn don’t take her to prison, she is not deported. She is advised to get official papers or to move. Louis told us when this happens, she would move to another place and continues to live in the country.
I don’t think of immigrating to another country, but I would like to have another experience abroad. I lived one year in London where I started my English language studies. Although I had this experience I don’t have fluency in English. Now I would like to live at least one more year abroad in an English speaking country, to finally improve my English and to have an academic experience too. For this I’m having English classes at IME-Jr.

Nivaldo - Essay on immigration

IMMIGRATION

The suburbs of Grenoble, France, were the center of the attention when unemployed teens attacked some policemen in July. They were burning cars and transforming the neighborhood in a battlefield. The state of Arizona, USA, recently enacted a law that allows policemen to inquire citizens about the regularity of their situation of immigrants and to take action if they are illegal.
So there are a lot of physical and psychological walls that try to serve as barriers to immigration. Would they work?
I don’t think so; not at all. My thesis is that people try to survive better where they can, and if to live better they have to leave behind a poor and low-expectation country and then they live on the crumbs that the developed country provides, they will do that. The current development model enables such differences. So for a long-term solution of the problem, it is necessary to change the model, that is, to change the expectations of the people that live in the countries which are origin of such movement.
Nowadays the economic crisis exacerbated the felling against immigration. In general, the majority of people are against it and even the moderate political parties are at least in silence to avoid losing votes.
On the other hand, the number of immigrants and descendants are growing.
As we can see in the following table, taking the USA as example, in the last three decades there was an effective growing of immigration.


Immigration numbers



* Projections and graph courtesy Population Environment Balance, Sources: U.S. Census Bureau2; Statistical Yearbook40, Bureau of Citizenship and Immigration Services
Average 195,000 per year from 1921-1970




It is interesting to see how this plays out in the real world. According to journalist Roy Beck, in California it is necessary to construct a new classroom every hour of the day, 24 hours per day 365 days of the year to accommodate immigrant children. The financial cost is borne by native households, who according to a National Academy of Science report, pay an additional $1200 per year in taxes because of mass immigration. Even so, the primary concern to environmentalists and Sierra Club members is the tremendous environmental impact that will be incurred as a consequence of continued U.S. population growth. (Source: Wikipedia)


Yes, it is impossible to absorb the number of excluded on the world through immigration.
80% of the natural resources are spent by 20% of population of the world, and not to mention the shame of exploitation of resources of less developed countries.
In conclusion, we need a new economic order. A new economy that solves the existing economical inequalities and correlated problems such as waste of energy and pollution
It is very difficult to think how to make it. Perhaps the poor countries together outside of the arranged game of UN will take some kind of action.
For sure the design of new solutions with the Capitalism as we know it today is impossible. A lesson that has to be taken from developed countries. Something new has to be thought and put to work changing selfishness for sharing and death for life.

Mateus - Essay on immigration

IMMIGRATION IN OUR SOCIETY

Millions of immigrants have helped in the making of the history and development of many countries. In the United States, for example, the economic development has been supported by those who have given their lives for being part of the labor force. Countries in Europe, such as France opened their borders to a diversity of workers in order to rebuild the country after the Second World War. The more immigrants stay in a country the more its level of multiculturalism will increase. However, the lack of integration between different cultures and the increasing number of illegal foreigners have made a controversial stereotype of the immigrants.
According to BBC, 60% of Spaniards link immigrants to crime. In Italy, newcomers can be deported promptly. Many countries also moved up the agenda and even considered changes in their immigration laws, e.g., France and the US. The latter encourages local police to check the immigration status of people and the former proposed new rules that would allow immediately expulsion of foreigners.
The resentment against immigrants is rising, but how far can it go? Are the politicians being guided by the atmosphere of intolerance? Or do they rely on the selfishness of their people? If Europe or the US still depends on the immigrants because of ageing populations and falling birth rates, why are they kicking out (or avoiding the entrance of) many people? The answers to these questions might be unknown, but there is a chance they are related to the attitude of not being open for integration, since this is always difficult due to the existence of different beliefs.
Another point of view is the consequences for a nation of loosening the visa laws, i.e., opening the country for newcomers rather than restricting the entrance. If illegal immigrants find out about such a place, it will turn out to be a magnet for people who want to stay and live without paying taxes. Additionally, the increasing population of foreigners can make a region develop a unique culture, apart from the rest of a country, as in the Canadian province of Quebéc, where the French-speaking majority have influenced a separatist movement.
In many countries, from colonial times in the past through the early 21st century, people from around the world have migrated to different places, including the now so-called under-developing nations as Brazil. Despite their different languages and cultures, they arrived to build new lives and find new perspectives for their family. As a result, they have contributed to the countries they have adopted and are part of the frustrations and accomplishments of those nations.

Marcos - Essay on immigration

Historical approach of the immigration in Brazil.

The history of immigration in Brazil began in the early 19th century with the end of slavery. The Slaves (Africans who had to work without salary) didn’t have to be forced to work in farms, and the farmers had to search for other workers to their farms. The Portuguese were the first that came, to work in the coffee plantations in the countryside of São Paulo State, from that time on, many other people around the world also came.
The most expressive number of immigrants that arrived in Brazil was undoubtedly the European, mainly Portuguese, Italians and Germans. Europe was going through the World War I and many people fleeing from the war came to Brazil, especially to work in the aforementioned coffee plantations in São Paulo and Minas Gerais States and in the agriculture of the South of Brazil, such as in Santa Catarina State.
Arriving in the seaport of Santos, the Italians and Portuguese moved toward the countryside of São Paulo and Minas Gerais and the Germans to South, Santa Catarina State. They started by finding work and building their homes there, and bringing the remaining of their families that were still living in Europe.
From the last decade of 19th century to nowadays, it has been clearly observed another kind of immigrants in Brazil, coming from Asia, especially the Japanese and Chinese. These other immigrants have decided to settle down in the city of São Paulo, and have been working with trade market, e.g. selling a great variety of thing, including technologic equipment, clothes, food etc.
Around the world immigrants have not been very approving toward immigartion, but here in Brazil, immigrants are seen as people who help us to build our country and culture and who bring us a little bit of each nation.