Demarcation Diaries
3 September 2001
Today, finally real men's work (sound of rude laughs)! There
are many gas drums to be carried (sound of healthy spits from
the Com. Sávio).
Yesterday's night was farewell to urban nightlife. We danced
at a place at Carauari. If there was an election, Jan would be
elected the best dancer for sure (his style of dancing got the
attention of many people), although Merel would have many votes,
too. In fact the music was not so good, but we had great fun,
and that's what matters.
Then, after a night of reduced sleep, a day of hard work. We
had to take many gas drums to Carauari. We were all tired by the
end, but since almost everyone helped we got the job done. As
a reward Manuel bought us ice cream!
The sad thing was that we saw a big alligator being shot by a
guy on another boat, in spite of our protests. Really hard to
change people's way of thinking and acting.
Márcio
|
 |
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
1
|
|
|
2
|
|
3
|
|
4
|
|
5
|
|
6
|
|
7
|
|
8
|
|
|
9
|
|
10
|
|
11
|
|
12
|
|
13
|
|
14
|
|
15
|
|
|
16
|
|
17
|
|
18
|
|
19
|
|
20
|
|
21
|
|
22
|
|
|
23
|
|
24
|
|
25
|
|
26
|
|
27
|
|
28
|
|
29
|
|
|
30
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
