‘We got together for breakfast, then the children came in, the tutors were introduced, including me, who was awkwardly trying to keep the microphone away.

I joined the class that had been assigned to me and went with them to the José Néu school, where I introduced myself and they introduced themselves. I handed out 28 sketchbooks and talked about how we can keep what's important to us inside by drawing. I told them that even memories can be kept through drawings. I suggested we go outside, each with their own sketchbook and scribblers. They chose the weir. Few drew it at first. Most of them, as I expected, drew from memory. They came up with many things that together could create a collective representation of a community seen through the eyes of those who grew up in it. They drew what was theirs and what wasn't. There were cacti, the Serras de Princesas and other creatures, sound cars, cowboys, but also lots of suns and little houses that looked like those of all the other children from many other places who also draw suns and little houses. At the end, everyone had their own representation of the weir they were standing on in their memory.

They came into the room and showed each other their drawings. They dispersed at the sound of the bell and we went to lunch.’

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“A few hours later, we were starting a new day and an adventure that would take longer than expected.

Me, João Fredo, Alice, Annie, Vitoria and Edimarcio, Joao Fredo's son, walked for eight hours to the Serra das Princesas, a central place in the community's history that I had long wanted to go to. After a long, tiring but exhilarating hike, just before we reached the top, some friends began to feel tired and we decided to return to Boqueirão. However, halfway back Annie twisted her foot on a piece of wood. The walk slowed down and João Fredo and I ran back to Boqueirão to pick Annie up on the motorbike.

In Boqueirão, I waited for João Fredo and returned with him to the town centre at dusk. The lack of lighting on the road and the clear view of the Via Lactea rounded off the day. I felt tired but happy. Back home, earlier than usual, I had time to draw Zélia and her son. The next morning came and the goodbyes, hugs and, like last time, a ‘see you nexttime’ began early. See you soon, we all hope.”

    

       ^{Text for Project Report by Abel Mota.}

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