CHILD LABOR Since I
remember people as I always worked, not because I liked the fact I never liked to work, always worked
for need and never for pleasure; more in my childhood was very necessary, but sometimes actually I enrolava my mother, sometimes not working anything, or comia more than sold, I was always a little taken, perhaps even a little more than my other
brothers. When I was well moleque each approximately seven years, I
remember to go sometimes with my older brothers in the former lixão of acari in the same neighborhood of acari, at the end of Rua Maturá be right, can go there, so far not built nothing in place, I do not know if the land is contaminated or what, this period was much, much more sad, much of what today when I was child, because I believe in my part I atrapalhava more of what helped, I remember I was pretty urubu (bird), mounds of garbage, the trucks went and saw on all sides, people did not know where to go, if ran to the truck or ran the truck, also had the tractors, which espalhavam the garbage after the unloading of trucks, drivers of trucks and tractors, is not concerned or somewhat with us, but we were the worst that urubus, I remember that my brother and my cousin Amauri who lived and grew up with us, ran for the trucks, which would seem embrace and carry arms in every one lixão of the truck, was not only them, but dozens of people who amontoavam behind the garbage truck to try to get something to take home food and feed of the day the day, something like: aluminum, copper, cardboard, cans and everything else that could sell and get a money to help the family, it was more a great party at home when my brothers took remains of meat, I believe it should be junk the butcher, supermarkets or restaurants, but I know that we adorávamos, this time my mother had no refrigerator or stove, then what she was doing, I remember very well, my brothers arrived with the remains of meat, it looked upon what really gave to take advantage, fervia and cozinhava everything and then placed in cans with fat, to preserve as we had refrigerator, while junk my mother caprichava in tempero he had at home and was a delicious; was so began my life of work , half of joke, more in order to help my irmãos.Por back of my 8 years leaving me my mother and my brother to qatar in waste to the doors of homes, material for resale: cans, glass, papelões, alumínios, copper, etc. . The purpose of my mother was helping in some way my father in the creating, but for thousands of people it was not a dignified life, more to my mother, was more worthy than borrowed money without asking not to pay, ask for alms taking health to work, rob or kill people to get money, or harm in any way another person looking for their own benefit; then comíamos what my mother or I could buy, or what conseguíamos the remnants of dumps of people, better conditions than I, never more the result of something illegal. Sometimes my mother made sweet or savory, type cocada or pastel, to sell the street, I remember that I and my brothers andávamos much, and rarely sold today believe it is because of our clothes are very humble very humble them, usually collected from waste that was brought home to my mother and the recuperava for us and even for her and my father too, and at the end of the day after andarmos very voltávamos for home and was much more very sad, but she tried not more transparency it was visible realize the sadness of my mother, to return home with practically everything to generally sell anything without it we waited all day, if not next exit, hoping to be able to achieve buy an egg or a lingüiça to place on the dinner or in my lunch and my brothers, a lot of times she had asked why and was missing since not sell anything, and explain that comíamos because andávamos many hours in the street, with hunger and thirst only seat that we pedíamos water in botequins, and even home when people washed the sidewalks, I and my brother aproveitávamos and bebíamoswater. Vendíamos also picolés walking the streets, trains and beaches; on trains was very disturbing was the guard rail we prohibited from selling things on trains, and sometimes we had to run them, not to lose the goods, until it seemed we were bandits, most had to run, because we lose the goods, we had to pay the picolés the pocket, which happened once or twice, because not conseguíamos sell only in the case of picolé, could be returned, because the sweet and savory that I mother did was total loss, usually in the summer only sold picolés what was to return with a little money to home, was little, and much more helped in the home.