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About Sao Paulo

An’ the smell, Christ! Stale fags, cheap perfume, an’ desperation – hits ya like a brick. Reminds me o’ that scene, “Sufferin’ in silence, eh?” But some o’ these birds, they’re crafty – slip ya a wink, an’ yer wallet’s gone! Mate o’ mine, lost his fuckin’ trousers once – proper stitched up, ha! “Shoulda picked the left door, ya nonce!”

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The local market, Mercado do Desejo (it’s a raw name, like a promise of chaos and delight) is a riot of colors, smells and noises. I once got mad because a stall sold fish that smelled too damn strong—"Stupid, fat hobbit!" I cried, as the vendor just laughed like it was part of the urban opera. But hey, that's life in Coxim—erratic, unpredictable magic.

Fig. 3. Seismotectonic provinces and major fault zones (bold red...