A for Andrés

I sat with the owners of the house for some conversation. The kids are still in their bedrooms, what made for a good opportunity to update my talk with them. The first thing I asked was about Andrés' bulls. If they really belonged to him.

"Yes, they're his", replied Duílio, "the bulls belong to Andrés and the cows to Adriano."

Aparecida smiled as if she foresaw the answer was going to sound funny. As it did. I had never heard anything like that in my life. But then again what do I know of country life anyhow?

"It must sound odd to you", she said, "but when we checked the number of bulls and cows and saw it was similar we decided to divide them like that. The cows outnumber the bulls by ten or so, but Andrés wanted to keep the bulls to himself just the same. He likes the bulls anyway; their number doesn't seem to matter to him."

I commented that I hadn't been to the pens yet since I arrived here. Duílio told me Andrés could take me there whenever I wanted to go.

"So the two of you have no head of cattle of your own?"

"Duílio has been more concerned about the coffee crops for some twenty years now. I myself don't often get involved in farming…", replied Aparecida, "the lads like to deal with cattle, so it's theirs. After all, the cattle has been left to them by my father-in-law."

Adriano and Andrés came down for breakfast in different times, in this exact order. Upon special request the two greeted each other good morning.

"Oh, you want to see me dealing with the bulls…" he said like a balloon that empties. Like a vinyl record on a turntable that loses power.

"If you don't want to take me, I'll go by myself, no problem." I had noticed his lack of will.

"Hell no, I'll harness a horse for you", he sounded more uplifted at learning I'd go anyhow. But I replied I didn't know how to ride a horse. He said he had a good one for me, completely tame and I turned it down. Told him I was going on foot.

"Oh donkey! But Ms. Grisam, the bull pens are so far away", Adriano reminded me, "if you want to see my lil' cows it is much closer."

I laughed. Adriano sometimes put on a heavier mountaineer accent just to make me laugh. Andrés tried hard not to laugh, but didn't succeed. Said if I wanted to walk it was possible, but I'd take ages to arrive. I am now meditating about how everything is near for Mineiros that now tell me I'll wear my shoes out trying to reach the pens. If Mineiros tell you something is far, be ready to end up in Katmandu.

"Where there is a will there is a way"

Adriano, making use of a common commonplace.

I decided to see the "lil' cows" of Adriano and the "lil' bulls" of Andrés. Adriano's pens were one kilometer far from the house. We walked there. He showed me the places where milking took place.

"No, it is done by hand", he told me when I asked whether milking was mechanized.

"Who milks them?"

He frowned.

"What do you mean, who milks them? I do."

I told him the number of cows and calves was big there and even if not all the cows were to be milked it was an insane workload for a fifteen-year-old.

"Where there is a will there is a way", he said timidly.

He told me he followed natural milking schedules and never used growth hormones to avoid dairy cows' udders becoming painful and heavy, even dragging on the ground, what always amounted to frequent infections and overuse of antibiotics. These schedules took much less time than I would imagine at seeing him by himself before that army of cows.

"Sorry I won't be milking them for some time, otherwise I'd show you", he said, "but if you're still here you'll see."

We were talking until he reminded me that if I really wanted to see Andrés' pens I had to start walking as soon as possible. I said goodbye and took the walk crossing the small dirt road within the limits of the farm, watching the cerrado landscapes, the overcast sky that made it easier for me to cover…

Ten kilometers.

Yes. I said ten kilometers. Now I could see the pens in the distance. And this distance I'm now talking about equalled two more kilometers. I sat down on the fence, heavy with infinite tiredness. I couldn't believe I had made it there. Another fantastic thing is to think how such a huge extension of land could belong to only four people.

"Had a good trip?" Andrés laughed as he approached me, amused to see me overwhelmed by the long way there.

"Is all of this land your family's?"

"Course, how come I'd have my pens here if it weren't?"

"Isn't it too much land for only four people? Can you cope?"

"Course we can."

Spent the rest of the afternoon watching him deal with the cattle. He lit a bonfire and threw a piece of iron into the flames. Asked me to throw a stick or two of wood in case the flames got lower and I was there throwing wood from time to time, watching him ride his horse and lasso some bulls randomly, bringing the bulls he lassoed into a tiny pen beside the main run. He put them there one by one until there was no more room for the six bulls to move. The last one he brought was kept tightly tied to the fence.

He then jumped back to where I was and said I didn't need to feed the fire anymore. He picked up the iron and only then could I notice its end that was shaped like a letter "A". He jumped back to the tiny pen and proceeded to brand the bulls in their rear legs. As the iron touched the animal's skin the strong smell of burned flesh came up acrid into my nostrils as if a pair of scissors were being shoved up my nose. The animal started screeching with pain, trying desperately to run away, while Andrés only tightened more and more the pressure of the iron on its skin, until there seemed to be an "A" engraved into its flesh. Only then did the kid let go of the bull. The poor animal went out limping, desperate with pain, mooing like a shrieking lament.

"That will pass", assured Andrés while he giggled and looked at me.

I was silent. Watched him do the rest of his job. One by one he branded all of the bulls, until none was left in the tiny pen. He asked me if I really didn't want to go back on his horse. I said no.

"Brave Ms. Grisam", he added, "I do admire your bravery."

And, whipping his horse with unusual force, he disappeared by galloping at the end of the dirt road back home.

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