My story begins in Rio de Janeiro's north zone. In 2019, my mother and I went out for a dental appointment, and she told me to wear comfortable clothes -- "a mom thing," I assumed. We live far from downtown, but that's where the clinic was, the one where we could get an appointment through the union's old health plan.
After the appointment, my mother took the opportunity to take me around the area, since I don't usually go there. We went into a music store, a bookstore, and a used bookstore, where I bought two books that today bring me the fond memory of that day.
While we were strolling, I said it was already enough and we could go home, but my mother insisted on walking a little bit more, until suddenly, she said:
Esse ônibus aqui, vamos!
As if the sudden nature of that remark—the kind of thing a kidnapper might say—weren't enough, we had gotten to the clinic by subway and would be going back that way, too. Finding all of this strange, I couldn't help myself and asked:
Ué, mas a gente não ia pra casa?
After we got settled into our seats, my mother told me that the plan for the day was to surprise me by taking me to the Jardim Botânico.
To this day I have never been to Jardim Botânico, and you, dear reader, will now understand why. The thing is, she wasn't sure at which stop to get off to get there, so, as anyone would do in that situation, she got up and said to the driver:
O senhor pode avisar quando chegar no ponto que a gente desce pra ir pro Jardim Botânico?
We continued our trip and, apparently, fate that day wanted us to end up at Parque Lage. The driver gave us a heads-up and some instructions, but, after walking quite a bit, we arrived at the entrance to Parque Lage. "Shall we go in?"... and I still haven't been to Jardim Botânico.
We didn't know the park and ended up spending the whole day walking around there. We took pictures - like the ones in the document - saw and learned new things, like, for example, that the area used to be a sugar mill. We saw the place where the enslaved people washed clothes, admired the beauty of the place, and I, in particular, was scared to death at one point: even though I had been warned, I didn't wear appropriate clothing. My flat shoes kept slipping, and I already have little balance by nature, which made me afraid of slipping and falling on the little bridge in front of one of the park's grottoes.
Finally, there was also an art exhibition where a stable used to be. We stepped up to the entrance, but we didn't understand the purpose of the bricks pierced with strands of hair laid out on the floor. The figures on the wall made me uncomfortable. We thought it best to leave the exhibition aside, and before we had even entered the place, we withdrew. We walked around a bit more and headed back home.