Infancy the first memories that I have are of fear of dark, fear of dog, to attend novel in the house of a neighbor (for not having television in house), to eat small baked pieces of meat in the cover of the stove (for my older sister, at the time the only the my brother, oldest of two), to have a foot of pinha in the yard, the bathroom to be in this yard and to have a long one weaveeed hung as door, to have a small covering improvised close to the foot of pinha and eating there in some occasions, in enamel plates white with edge blue marine with small parts pulled out by the use time. I also remember that, on the first time that I was to the small farm of my paternal grandmother in the State of Pernambuco (not more than five years was my age), I witnessed one my uncle leaving the belly of a pig with enormous a fossil hunter knife that always brought to the waist. The pig lay of borcos I cut and it that inesquecvel scene went of the neck to the tail disclosed to the viscera of the animal. In this exactly local, I remember in an occasion having joined a young chicken (of these just-born that they piam the time all and that they walk in one of group of brothers next to the mother) imprisoned for one of the wings to a small twig to the foot of a tree. My intention to free the coitado one was malfadada. The hen-mother came behind me and after that she pecked one of my knees and I, in prantos, was me to complain my grandmother citizen rude and incoherent, adjective that they do not combine in one civilized. The quarrel that I led still became the moment dolorido.