Thirteen degrees on São Paulo’s streets

by Nathalia Nascimento (Brazil)

Making a local connection Brazil

I never felt so cold in my entire life. That thought crossed my mind on my first morning at São Paulo. It was 13º C. The year 2019 was my last semester at university. That means that all the graduating students must do an internship in the area of their interest. I chose São Paulo as the place to do my internship. At 1, 121 km away from everything that was familiar, I began my new life for the next two months. It was Sunday when São Paulo greeted me with cold. The skin under my nails turned purple. I put on layers of clothing. The cold penetrated through fabric, skin, and bones. My body trembles. Pointlessly trying to warm me up. I've never missed the sun so much. Where I come from its hot. It does 30ºC or more daily. The season that prevails all year round is summer. Winter doesn’t exist there. That is the reason that I was always expecting for any cold breeze that could cover my skin with chills instead of sweating. Any dark cloud that could block the rays of the sun was welcome. I used to say, “I love when it’s cold”. But, what “cold” mean? For me it was anything less than 26º C. My first impression of São Paulo was that the trees had been replaced by buildings, aligned with the streets and avenues. I couldn’t see any green leaf there. A forest made of stone, steel, and glass, growing skyward. No bird’s chirping interrupted the noise of the engine’s cars. While there, I began to have a routine. Every morning I left the house at 8 AM and walked following the crowd that head to Vila Mariana’s subway station. The passers-by were like a “Swiss watch”. Perfectly. Precisely. Focused. Never looking sideways. But I did. Before the end of my first day, I had a thought on my mind: there’s a lot of homeless people here. Were as if they had become part of the city as the lamppost. Skin and hair gray as the cement that built the town. People didn’t look twice at them. At the end of the weekend, the temperature dropped three degrees. The cold was cruel. It took away everything that makes people’s bodies warm. In that night the cold come under my door, freezing my room, turning my bed into ice. I had never felt the whip of the cold. So, how? How the people outside, sleeping on the street, endured this cold? In the morning, I discovered that two had died that night. Frozen to death in an empty and cold São Paulo’s street. One month passed by, then two. My internship period was quickly coming to an end. Somehow, I get used to the cold. Still missing the warm it of the sun in my skin. Two weeks before my departure I saw then on the street: a man and his cat. He was sitting on a thin mattress with the blanket that kept him warm during the night around his shoulders. By his side was the thing he values the most: a beautiful creature with black and white hair. That man with no possession, provided all the comfort to his cat: a pretty outfit, a bed made of a soft and cushioned fabric, two bowls filled with clean water and cat’s food. A few days later I went home. It was a 15-hours journey by bus. Even now I can’t erase them of my mind. They’re carved in there. I never saw the man and his cat after that day. Early that morning, I remember to check my cellphone. It did 13ºC. Now I’m at home and it’s officially summer. It’s doing 30ºC. The cold weather isn’t nearby for a while but when it comes back (and it will), I hope that those two stay alive and warm, during the cold nights on Sao Paulo’s streets.