III. My immortal grandfather

O beloved,
idolized homeland,
Hail, hail! 

-- Brazilian National Anthem

My grandfather Eliezer was (and is, after I explain) the father of my father.  He and his family lived near Bacuri da Bela Vista.  When the reservoir on the nearby river began to fill, they had to give up their lands.  He received compensation and moved to Tucuruí along with my grandmother, my father, and my uncles.

Everyone adapted to the city except for him.  Not that he complained; grandpa Eliezer was the most extraordinary person that I ever knew.  With him, everything was going well.  In others, he only saw the positive.  He was always able to calm any argument between his grandchildren, and was loved by everyone.  However, if someone mentioned Bacuri, his eyes lit up in a way that could not fool me.

He was very extroverted, dynamic and caring, and the heart and soul of our house.  He had a genuine interest in everyone’s lives and was able to establish a relationship of confidant-confessor with just about everyone.  He always said that I was his favorite.

I guess we had a very special relationship.  Many times, while talking with me, he put aside his confident tone and in a part sad, part melancholic tone spoke of his life in Bacuri, which the waters had taken away.  I never heard him talk of Bacuri with others.  I always felt superior to my brothers for being the confidant of these conversations, which came from his heart.

Only one time, did he talk about the sale of his land to the hydroelectric company.  “Titinha,” (my name is Julieta, and he called me Titinha), “when the people from the hydroelectric company came to appraise the property, the people had to have known they were going to cover everything with water.  I remained very quiet, because I was born at that place, and my father was born there as well.  I never imagined a different world before that time.  I knew every tree, every wild animal personally, all that I needed to do was to name them all.  I had a maracanã (a type of parrot) that I knew by the cry it would make, imitating the sound of a maraca (a Latin American percussion instrument that one holds and shakes in one’s hand).  I had a curió (an Amazonian finch), which sang beautifully all the daylong and yet would never repeat the same song.  I watched the people plant the fields each season and this showed me so clearly, how rich and wonderful life can be.

“Despite this, I understood that the earth wasn’t my property, that progress was to benefit everyone, and since things were changing, I understood that I would have to change as well.  This is why, I did not resist.  I talked to your grandmother, out of respect, knowing that she supported my decisions.  So the people from the hydroelectric company closed, not only a single chapter in my life, but an entire book – and I saw a new book begin here in Tucuruí.”

This was (or is) my grandpa Eliezer.  The years passed and he did not change at all.  He was always the light of our house, who brightened all the celebrations and gatherings that he was part of.  “Titinha, you always listen more than you speak and always ask why things are they way they are, never leaving anything half finished.  Others are more concerned about talking than listening, and never have the humility to ask, ‘why?’  So they always sound like donkeys.” 

One afternoon, coming back from my teaching post at the University, I came across an artist and asked, “O neighbor, what’s happening?” 

We were alone in the room.  Speaking as a close acquaintance, he answered: “I’ve come from Roberto Siquiera’s wake, the Director of the College.”  The director was 52 years old and apparently had died of a sudden heart attack.  “You know, Titinha, I’ve been to many wakes in my life, and I believe that wakes are an embarrassment to the dead.  In life, people are respected, battle-hardened like all of us.  They play with ideas and discuss their dreams.  Everyone confidently plays out his or her role as if being on stage of a great theatre.  At their wake however, you see them lying there, inanimate, motionless, defeated and silent – shunted off to the side so as not to get in the way of the Play.  Until yesterday, I thought of Roberto as being one who was alive of great intelligence and sensitivity, a colleague whose company everyone enjoyed.  But at the wake I had to replace that image with one of his definitive end.”  He paused, “I think that wakes are a great disgrace.”

I did not know what to he expected me to say, so both of us remained silent until someone entered and changed the subject naturally.

Two years ago, my grandpa Eliezer decided to travel.  His little body was already worn by the passing years, but his mind was still the same, a shining light.  He said that he would go to Manaus to visit his friends.  My father was surprised but never argued with grandpa Eliezer before, so he wouldn’t argue with him this time either.   When he said his goodbyes to everyone, his voice seemed to me sweeter than usual, his hug tighter, his kiss on my forehead, warmer.  At the time, I thought I was the only one with that impression.

The fact of the matter is that grandpa Eliezer never returned.  He called every so often, and each time for a shorter time.  He never told us clearly, where he was calling from.  It’s been more than a half a year now since we’ve heard anything from him.

The family and his friends don’t understand his sudden behavior, when he used to shine with such love and life, always smiling, always seemingly happy, and communicative.

Personally, I believe that he simply returned to his old place at Bacuri, which is now covered by the waters of a large artificial lake.


In Nature, everything changes but it has its price.

Electricity serves a good symbol of humanity’s material progress.  Since first conceived and coming on to the scene at the end of the 19th century, it has become an indispensable element for the well-being of all.  Today, it is generated in many ways, but one of the most economic is through the damming of rivers in which water under pressure is made to turn the generators.  However, whether these generating plants be small or gigantic, they all have their effects, big or small, and all damage the environment in some way.

The Amazon region is not a mountainous one of the sort where hydroelectric power plants are usually built.  As such, the lakes produced by hydroelectric dams in the Amazon are often very large.  In order to produce a 74 m. drop to drive the hydroelectric plant at Tucuruí, in Para, a reservoir of 2,875 sq. km. was created behind it, making it the second largest artificial lake in Brazil, and resulting in the dislocation of 32,000 families as well as violating the entire ecosystem of the region.

Environmentalists do not agree with the paying of such a high price for something, which could have been produced by other means and which has resulted in so much dislocation and damage.  As an example, the construction of the hydroelectric plant in Balbina in the Brazilian state of Amazonas, 150 km from Manaus produced a lake 2,360 sq. km in size, which is larger in area than the cities of São Paulo, Belo Horizonte and Curitiba put together.  The lake killed millions of animals, dislocated countless ribeirinhos (river dwellers), settlers and the entire Wiamiris-Atroaris tribe, all to produce a maximum of 250 MW of power (a level that it can only produce during four months of the year).  Finally, despite all the dislocation and damage, the energy produced by this plant is still unable to meet the needs of Manaus.

Yes, Amazonia has an abundance of water, but only because it has a forest.  If we continue to destroy the forest in order to create such large lakes, we will find ourselves without the forests and a region dotted with dry lakes.

Today, 80% of electricity generated in Brazil comes from hydroelectric power.  However, throughout the world, power is generated by many other means.  Worldwide, 40% of electricity is produced by oil-fired power plants, 25% by coal, 20% by natural gas, 5% by nuclear power, and only 7% by hydroelectric means, as in Brazil.

If other regions in our country are reaching the point of depleting their potential of generating electricity by hydroelectric means, it would make sense to look for other means to generate power.  This should be the case even if these means would cost but did not result in destroying the forest.  Consumption will always adapt to new prices.  Only thirty years ago, oil cost less than $4 US/barrel.  Today it costs $60 US/barrel.

There are always other sources to consider, perhaps not requiring the construction of enormous hydroelectric plants but with a much more favorable cost to benefit ratio.  These include, PCHs (pequenas centrais hidreléctricas or small hydroelectric plants), which produce reservoirs no larger than 3 sq km and are the stated goal the PCH-COM Program.

In truth, the problem is not that simple.  Protecting the forest is no longer a mere question of choice.  Amazonia is a gigantic natural resource for Brazil, and Brazil and the rest of the world depend on it.  (As one sees in Chapter 2, the “the world needs to come to agreement about global warming).

As a result, the construction of new hydroelectric plants in Amazonia needs to be well considered in terms of cost-benefit and environmental impact.  The power plants at Santo Antônio and Jirau on the Madeira River, produce reservoirs of 520 sq. km, and the plant at Belo Monte, which could be only the first of a chain of five hydroelectric plants planned for the Xingu River, will produce a lake of 1,200 sq. km.

Those of us who were inspired by Chico Mendes and the seringueros used to hug individual trees in order to prevent the cutting down of the rubber trees.  Today Brazil needs to put up a great protective “hug” around the entire Amazonian forest, which continues to be threatened as never before.