Dona Sonia hands me four cheese-breads. In her Cabelo Seco bakery, this famous savoury snack is a fifth its shopping-mall price, and served hot from the oven. But it’s thin on cheese, heavy on flour, because Senhor Manoel and Dona Sonia are economizing, like everyone in Brazil. Their price doubled again, in three months, and people from the community struggle to find the extra 50 cents on each bun. ‘Make it five?’ Sonia almost pleads, then repents. ‘No, it’s our gift.’ I smile and accept.
‘Do you think the October elections will happen now Lula has lost his appeal for habeas corpus?’ she frets. ‘They’ve taken the pleasure out of voting. There’ll be no opposing views. In the past, candidates listened. Respected each other. Now it’s all insult and slander.’ Sonia risks another comment. ‘Everyone knows the judges and news-barons were bribed to take Lula out of the elections, because he would win. What can we do? We suffered such a cruel military dictatorship, and our grandchildren believe only the army can restore democracy!’ Uncomfortable silence. ‘Forgive me, have I invaded your privacy?’
