Seu Zé

TRANSCRIPT

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“I’m retired—I retired about eight months ago, more or less. But my problem is that I can’t feel my legs. So I have to stay here until… In fact, the exam I had been waiting for over four years finally came through. It came out, but since my phone had been stolen, I’ll have to reschedule it again.

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I sleep on the street. I’ve been living here since the end of 2017, above the restroom—me, Índia, and another man who came from São Paulo and became friends with us. He came just to retire here and has already started the process. I spent four months in Cidade Ocidental, living there near Valparaíso. But nowadays, to rent a place, you have to buy a mattress, a bed, a stove—you have to buy everything. Buying all that at once, on your own, is hard. I took out a loan, and that’s what weighed most on my budget. But I want to go back to Ocidental, God willing, because the rainy season has started.

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But this is my place. Even if I move to Ocidental, I’ll live there, but every single day I’ll have to come here. I take shared transport—you pay R$10 to come and R$10 to go back. Because I have my responsibility of carrying goods for the street vendors. I move merchandise for them every day, Monday to Friday. I take it from here, and around four o’clock I start hauling it until five-thirty, and by then I’ve brought everything back. I also help out at the food stall area—I help clean, set up the tables, and close things down. When the guy there goes on vacation, I’m the one who takes care of it. I open, close, clean, wash my dishes. I’ve never fought with anyone.

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I don’t argue. I don’t have conflicts with anyone. The police have never approached me with disrespect. People here respect me. Thank God, I’ve never taken anything from anyone. I work—I don’t ask anyone for anything. People on the street go around asking for coffee, lunch, dinner. And people like me. There’s a lady from Santa Maria who brings coffee for herself and for me every day. If she makes two tapiocas, one is for her and one is for me. I don’t go hungry in the morning. At lunchtime, I eat over there—sometimes they charge me, sometimes they don’t.

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Look, I may be homeless, but I’m not dirty. I dress well, I take care of my appearance. I use good cologne—Kaiak, Malbec, Biografia… I like good things, not bad ones. That’s why women say, ‘Wow, what a good-smelling older guy.’ I’m not bragging—it’s what people say. Some women even come from other places and say, ‘I’m going to sleep there with you.’ They can sleep, but I don’t touch them, okay? I’m the kind of person who respects others. If they want to sleep, they can. My space is big, I have my mattress—it’s quite comfortable. But nowadays, most women only think about money. So you have to find someone who genuinely likes you. The day I find that, fine—I’ll take care of her like I took care of my daughter for 17 years. She passed away—may God keep her in a good place. After she died, that’s when I really ended up on the streets.

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But I’ve never been arrested, I’ve never stolen anything. My name—thank God—my record is clean. Anyone can check it. I take pride in who I am. A lot of people have prejudice against Black people, but I’m not just anyone—I’m someone who likes to have things right, who doesn’t like asking anyone for anything. That’s who I am. I’m straightforward. That’s why I say: this is my home. This is my place.”