“After I finished my daily tasks, I started writing my little message to my unforgettable Tatu. Where I raised my dear children! Who are my jewels. Today I live without hope of living here as I used to. I come in hurry without even one night sleeping in this room, that peaceful sleep.
I see it so dry and sad; it seems like it's not the same as before, although neither it nor I are to blame. My difference is due to age and health. And it was the lack of rain.
Goodbye my Tatu...
I ask God that He'll let me come for a few more years.
24-8-71, Brazil. Ana Mendes”
Written by my grandmother, this thank-you note to Tatu, the farm where she raised her children, was found after her passing.
With these words, where once I called home, begins my literal and symbolic travel to the interior. Amidst the Ipê-trees blossom, a hope for life after the arid winter, the streets covered in pink tints the longing for a time that shall never return. “I live without hope of living here as I used to”, as she wrote.
As we go further, colonial mansions and abandoned train tracks contrasts with the mountains. Surrounded by its beauty we become humble by the vastness of nature and the passage of time. Approaching north, the signs of drought begin to be noticed: the cacti, the leafless branches, the cattle around remaining food. Entering the sertão, an arid region, life’s challenges intensify: “I see it so dry and sad...”
But then it comes the rain, and “when it rains in the sertão” life flourishes. The sunset amidst the mountains takes on new hues as its light reflects off the clouds. Waterfalls come to life. It’s a rebirth.
Hence, I reach my destination: Tatu.
Throughout this journey I was able to understand the strength that shaped my grandmother. Even though we had different lives, her determination and her connection to the land undeniably resonates with me. It represented not only a travel into the past, but a celebration of the present. So, as I say goodbye, I fully embrace her memory.
“Goodbye my Tatu.”
Hope for life
Where Past is Present
Rails of Reminiscence
In the Vast World
Touching the Clouds
Contemplation
Path to sertão
Arid
Of a Land Left Behind
Resilience
When it rains in the sertão
Rebirth
Where Life Finds Its Way
Tatu, final destination
