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Luciano von der Goltz Vianna
The present article starts from a debate that aims to understand how the disciplinary regimes of Anthropology lead the researcher to follow a protocol of questions and interests in his research. The objective here is to discuss the existing
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Rocío Fatyass
Neste artigo retomo ideias emergentes de um projeto de pesquisa com crianças que acontece em um bairro periurbano da cidade de Villa Nueva (Córdoba, Argentina) e discuto a agência das crianças e sua participação na pesquisa em ciências
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Aline Moreira Magalhães
Since expeditions by naturalists in the 18th century, the production of modern knowledge about the flora and fauna of the Amazon has included people who know the ecosystem from experience. At the National Institute for Amazon Research (INPA),
[+]Interdisciplinarities
Juliana Pereira, Ana Catarina Costa, André Carmo, Eduardo Ascensão
This article draws on the genealogy of studies on the house in Portuguese Anthropology and Architecture as well as on recent perspectives coming from the Geographies of Architecture, to explore the way residents of auteur architecture experience
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Annabelle Dias Félix, Maria João Leote de Carvalho, Catarina Frois
In the global political landscape, as far-right parties gain prominence, populist rhetoric advocating for harsher justice and security policies is becoming increasingly prevalent. Proponents of this rhetoric base their discourse on “alarming”
[+]Dossiê “Beyond penal populism: complexifying justice systems and security through qualitative lenses”
Susana Durão, Paola Argentin
In this article we argue that hospitality security – a modality that confuses control and care – operates through the actions of security guards in the creation of what we call pre-cases. From a dense ethnography accompanying these workers in a
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Pedro Varela
Racist police violence is one of the most brutal facets of racism in our society, reflecting structures of power and oppression that marginalize sectors of our society. This paper emphasizes the importance of understanding this reality, highlighting
[+]Dossiê “Beyond penal populism: complexifying justice systems and security through qualitative lenses”
Catarina Frois
This article engages with contemporary anthropological and ethnographic methodological debates by reflecting on the challenges of conducting research in contexts related with marginality, deviance, surveillance, and imprisonment. It examines the
[+]Dossiê “Beyond penal populism: complexifying justice systems and security through qualitative lenses”
Lydia Letsch
Qualitative researchers face unique challenges in the dynamic domain of border regions, particularly when venturing into highly securitized areas with a constant military presence, advanced surveillance, and restricted access zones. This article
[+]Memory
Rita Tomé, João Leal
Falecido recentemente, Victor Bandeira (1931-2024) desempenhou um papel fundamental no desenvolvimento da museologia etnográfica em Portugal. Foi graças às suas expedições a África (1960-1961, 1966, 1967), ao Brasil (1964-1965) e à Indonésia
[+]Lévi-Strauss Award
Jo P. Klinkerfus
This paper is a reduced and synthesized version of the ethnography on PMSC Notícia, the news platform of the Military Police of Santa Catarina (PMSC). Based on news about death, dying and the dead published on the website in 2021, social
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Antonio Maria Pusceddu
This article mobilizes the ecologies of value as a conceptual framework to account for the conflicts, contradictions and dilemmas arousing from the experience of the contemporary socio-ecological crisis. Based on ethnographic fieldwork in Brindisi,
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Axel Levin
This ethnographic article addresses the difficulties, practices, and strategies of the professionals of the only Argentine hospital fully specialized in the treatment of mental health problems of children and adolescents. More specifically, it
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Morena Freitas
The ibejadas are childlike entities that, alongside the caboclos, pretos-velhos, exus, and pombagiras, inhabit the umbanda pantheon. In religious centers, these entities manifest through colorful images, joyful sung chants and an abundance of sweets
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Pablo Mardones
The article analyzes the Anata-Carnival festivity celebrated in the Andean town of Chiapa in the Tarapacá Region, Great North of Chile. I suggest that this celebration constitutes one of the main events that promote the reproduction of feelings of
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Marta Roriz
Drawing on anthropological and ethnographic developments in the study of urban tourism, this essay offers a description of Sarajevo’s tourist landscapes from the perspective of an ethnographic tourist, detailing how time is inscribed in the
[+]Memory
Lorenzo Macagno
The article comments on, contextualizes and transcribes the epistolary exchange between social anthropologist David J. Webster (1945-1989) and ethnologist and Portuguese colonial official António Rita-Ferreira (1922-2014) between 1971 and 1979.
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Luzia Oca González, Fernando Barbosa Rodrigues and Iria Vázquez Silva
Neste dossiê sobre o género e os cuidados na comunidade transnacional cabo-verdiana, as leitoras e leitores encontrarão os resultados de diferentes etnografias feitas tanto em Cabo Verde como nos países de destino da sua diáspora no sul da
[+]Dossier ‘Gender and Care in the Cape Verdean transnational experience’
Fernando Barbosa Rodrigues
Taking the ethnographic field as a starting point – the interior of the island of Santiago in the Republic of Cabo Verde – and basing on participant observation and the collection of testimonies from the local inhabitants of Brianda, this
[+]Dossier ‘Gender and Care in the Cape Verdean transnational experience’
Andréa Lobo and André Omisilê Justino
This article reflects on the care category when crossed by the dynamics of gender and generation in Cape Verde. The act of caring is of fundamental importance for family dynamics in this society, which is marked by mobilities of multiple orders –
[+]Dossier ‘Gender and Care in the Cape Verdean transnational experience’
Luzia Oca González and Iria Vázquez Silva
This article is based on fieldwork conducted with women of four generations, belonging to five families living in the locality of Burela (Galicia) and their domestic groups originating from the island of Santiago. We present three ethnographic
[+]Dossier ‘Gender and Care in the Cape Verdean transnational experience’
Keina Espiñeira González, Belén Fernández-Suárez and Antía Pérez-Caramés
The reconciliation of the personal, work and family spheres of migrants is an emerging issue in migration studies, with concepts such as the transnational family and global care chains. In this contribution we analyse the strategies deployed by
[+]Debate
Filipe Verde
This article questions the consistency, reasonableness, and fruitfulness of the methodological proposals and idea of anthropological knowledge of the “ontological turn” in anthropology. Taking as its starting point the book manifesto produced by
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Rogério Brittes W. Pires
O artigo “Estrangeiros universais”, de Filipe Verde, apresenta uma crítica ao que chama de “viragem ontológica” na antropologia, tomando o livro The Ontological Turn, de Holbraad e Pedersen (2017), como ponto de partida (2025a: 252).1 O
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Filipe Verde
Se há evidência que a antropologia sempre reconheceu é a de que o meio em que somos inculturados molda de forma decisiva a nossa compreensão do mundo e de nós mesmos. Isso é assim para a própria antropologia e, portanto, ser antropólogo é
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Rogério Brittes W. Pires
Um erro do construtivismo clássico é postular que verdades alheias seriam construídas socialmente, mas as do próprio enunciador não. Que minha visão de mundo, do fazer antropológico e da ciência sejam moldadas por meu ambiente – em
[+]Note on the cover
Pedro Calapez
© Pedro Calapez. 2023. (Pormenor) Díptico B; Técnica e Suporte: Acrílico sobre tela colada em MDF e estrutura em madeira. Dimensões: 192 x 120 x 4 cm. Imagem gentilmente cedidas pelo autor. Créditos fotográficos: MPPC / Pedro
[+]Barbarita Lara, Yuliana Ortiz, Amanda Takuapu/Comunidade Tabaçu Reko Ypy, Katherine Chalá, Génesis Delgado, Darwin Minda, Andrea Chávez, Iván Zambrano, Fabiana Leite, Cleberson Moura, Marianne Sallum, Daniela Balanzátegui
16.11.2024
This visual essay includes artistic expressions in the context of Afro-Indigenous memories in the Americas. We invited artists, activists, researchers, and allies, especially Afro-Ecuadorian Quilombolas/Cimarronas (from Valle del Chota, Esmeraldas, and Guayaquil, Ecuador) and Tupi Guarani Indigenous people (from the Pyátsagwêra Indigenous Territory (Piaçaguera), São Paulo, Brazil). They’re participating in the 'International Seminar on Indigenous and Afro-descendant Peoples in the Americas: Collaboration, Archaeology, Repatriation, and Heritage' (University of Massachusetts-Boston, United States/University of São Paulo, Brazil) served to poetically present strategies of resistance to colonialism. The essay was constructed from the memories of survival and the future of reparation, liberation, and social justice through voices in verses, songs, and militant images about who we will be as people in solidarity.
DOI: https://doi.org/10.25660/AGORA0023.Q65D-TT83
Este ensaio visual reúne expressões artísticas que refletem as memórias Afro-Indígenas nas Américas. Convidámos artistas, ativistas, pesquisadora(o)s e aliada(o)s, especialmente pessoas Afroequatorianas Quilombolas/Cimarronas (do Valle del Chota, Esmeraldas e Guayaquil, Equador) e Indígenas Tupi Guarani (da Terra Indígena Pyátsagwêra (Piaçaguera), São Paulo, Brasil). A sua participação no "Seminário Internacional Povos Indígenas e Afrodescendentes nas Américas: Colaboração, Arqueologia, Repatriação e Patrimônio"(University of Massachusetts-Boston, United States/Universidade de São Paulo, Brasil), serviu para apresentarem poeticamente suas estratégias de resistência ao colonialismo. O ensaio é tecido por memórias de sobrevivência e esperanças de futuros baseados em reparação, libertação e justiça social, expressas por meio de versos, canções e imagens de militância sobre quem seremos como povos solidários.
Este ensayo visual incluye expresiones artísticas en el contexto de las memorias Afro-Indígenas en las Américas. Invitamos a artistas, activistas, investigadores(as) y aliados(as), especialmente personas Afroecuatorianas Quilombolas/Cimarronas (del Valle del Chota, Esmeraldas y Guayaquil, Ecuador) e Indígenas Tupi Guarani (de la Tierra Indígena Pyátsagwêra (Piaçaguera), São Paulo, Brasil). Su participación en el "Seminario Internacional Pueblos Indígenas y Afrodescendientes en las Américas: Colaboración, Arqueología, Repatriación y Patrimonio" (University of Massachusetts-Boston, United States/Universidade de São Paulo, Brasil), sirvió para presentar poéticamente estrategias de resistencia al colonialismo. El ensayo está tejido por memorias de supervivencia y esperanzas de futuros basados en reparación, liberación y justicia social, expresados a través de versos, canciones e imágenes de militancia sobre quienes seremos como pueblos hermandados.
Art is an extension of our politics in this world. It takes our demands to people who would never know of our existence by other means. Art motivates and encourages more people to claim their place in the historical trajectory of the country.
Jaider Esbell Makuxi, 2020
Introduction
The use of poetic language and other forms of art "as a counter-hegemonic methodological resource in archaeological (academic) practice" (Passos, 2019: 16) is the guiding thread of this essay, which presents various forms of expression by artist-researchers aiming to awaken critical thinking in response to the various forms of oppression that threaten and attack freedom in Latin America. The piece results from the third panel of the "International Seminar on Indigenous and Afro-Descendant Peoples in the Americas: Collaboration, Archaeology, Repatriation, and Heritage," coordinated by researchers from Ecuador, Brazil, and the United States: Daniela Balanzátegui (Balanzátegui et al. 2021), Marianne Sallum (Sallum 2024), Stephen W. Silliman (Silliman 2008), and Astolfo Araujo (Araujo et al. 2018). This panel includes works that portray Afro-Ecuadorian memory (Chota Valley, Esmeraldas, and Guayaquil, Ecuador) and Tupi Guarani (Pyátsagwêra Indigenous Territory (Piaçaguera), São Paulo, Brazil) through poetry, songs in native languages, and photographs. The first two panels, “Indigenous Archaeologies, Territories, and Human Rights” and “Building Afro-Indigenous Affective Networks: Women, Education, and Activism in Latin America,” also published in AGORA, are part of the construction of networks of learning and affection among leaders, activists, artists, Afro-descendant and Indigenous researchers, and allies. They are grounded in the commitment to an anti-racist archaeology that addresses social and political demands, prioritizing knowledge produced by women, with the aim of providing tangible pedagogical tools that contribute to education beyond academic spaces (Chalá et al. 2024; Tuxá et al. 2024).
Memories of Afro-Ecuadorian Cimarronaje and Tupi Guarani Indigenous Peoples:
Video 1
Feet and Ligeritas: Figure 2. The Tupi Guarani leadership Catarina Nimbopuruá Delfina dos Santos of the Tapirema Village, Peruíbe, São Paulo. Language Revitalization Workshop. Technique: Color photography. Photo: Amanda Takuapu and Comunidade Tabaçu Reko Ypy, 2024.
Video 2
Rootedness:
Figure 4. Portrait of Renato Kuaray O’ea from the Tupi Guarani Community, Peruíbe, São Paulo. Technique: Color photography. Photo: Foto: Amanda Takuapu e Comunidade Tabaçu Reko Ypy, 2024.
Video 3
Figure 5. “Trapiche de Mascarilla (Valle del Chota): Memory, Transformation, and Quilombola Work.” The trapiche is a living heritage of Afro-Ecuadorian memory, safeguarded by the women’s association “Grupo Artesanal Esperança Negra” - GAEN. Technique: Color photography. Photo: Andrea Chávez, 2023.
Figure 6. Artist Betty Arroyo and her work “Behind the Last Supper” (acrylic and textile on canvas), Guayaquil, Ecuador. Technique: Color photography. Foto: Genesis Delgado, 2023.
Figure 7. Linguistic Revitalization Workshop. Tupi Guarani Community, Peruíbe, São Paulo. Photo: Amanda Takuapu e Comunidade Tabaçu Reko Ypy, 2024.
Video 4
Lord, you came to stay:
Childhoods by the Shore
To draw coordinates between the origin and the mouth of pleasures, or events that brought me closer to it, I first expand the possibilities of the self. I cross that threshold as a shell-less experience. A shedding of dead skin, as if the self were a transparent and even unbreakable membrane, which, when permeated, brings about a collective body. This way of conceiving oneself as a multiple body, a herd body, a populous mass of beings running through the bloodstream, panting behind my cells, is for me the closest thing to the first perception of pleasure in my small child’s body from the beach.
As if two legs were not enough, I ran manically from my mother’s car to the beach; with a desperation that my body could hardly contain. A force that caused me to smash my legs when I fell. An untamed force that my anatomy could not process. So much entanglement couldn’t fit in a small body; to protect itself, it aborted the mission of running. It was fading away.
Everything that gave me pleasure was outside my body and in relation to other bodies. The burning of stepping on the boiling sand and then digging a small hole with my feet until I found myself relieved by the wet sand at the bottom of the beach. A core of cold sand inhabiting the soles of my feet. The sting of opening my eyes under the salty water, to then come out to cry a microscopic sea lying face up on the shore. The miracle of observing up close and, for the first time, the corpse of a whale stranded on the beach of Las Palmas.
Although without knowing how to give a name to what I felt, to the touch and the encounter of the body with other bodies, there was the certainty that those bodies were mine as much as I was theirs. A mutual belonging and a way of acquiring different forms. The sand passing through my dermis was also my dermis making way for the inert particles/cells of the beach. Because I have no rational memory of the first time I saw the sea, however, I never stopped looking at it with amazement. It never ceased to move me, with the unspeakable intensity of one who becomes a girl in the jaws of a giant animal.
The skin is the largest organ of the body, but the skin attached to our bones is not just skin alone. I could never understand or feel the process of loneliness as something valid. I was never alone, the objects were exerting their oblique gaze on me in the night. The books in filial relationship of hatred with dust and lint waiting to be taken. The porcelain cups for playing house also penetrated my eyes to the point of making them scream inside. And the trunks in my grandmother's house with fabrics that made the fingers of my hands desperate. Sometimes it was not me looking for them but them demanding to be touched.
The question of the shores is, in turn, about taking my pleasure seriously; my mind does nothing but lead me back to childhood, which, for me, is still the age of imperceptible joy. In the house where I spent my early years, there was a guava tree, another custard apple tree, and countless plant beings imposing their presence in the yard. But the guava and custard apple trees were the gods of that green and brown kingdom. My body moved involuntarily towards them with such force that sometimes I didn’t know who was climbing whom. Sometimes I dreamed I was a tree and saw how from my hands, from my fingers, from my hair, guavas fell singing like moons full of little white worms that I still devoured urgently.
Those trees were my other selves, I thought. They were brown and shiny, their trunks sometimes turning green. Sometimes they were swarming with ants; other times the leaves fell to the ground, while from the back door leading to the yard, I let out a high-pitched scream. I thought: the falling of a leaf is the falling of a strand of hair, like the ones I pull out when I detangle in the shower, so I would pick up the leaves and bury them in the same secret hole where I buried my hair. Together, both bundles of hair and little leaves formed a greener and more disintegrated me.
I also spent endless hours perched on their branches, talking to myself. The trees would respond by shedding their skins onto my body or the ground. There was a whole array of encounters between the earth around the trees, my thin, almost vegetal body, and the other plants. Sometimes I wanted to stretch to embrace both trees against my chest. I tried with all my might, opening my legs and arms, attempting to expand to bring them closer to me. The pain after the ritual of trying to be one with them was also a precious encounter with joy. A crab walk until my legs returned to their natural state again.
If I speak of pleasure, I return to childhood, to the never innocent encounter of the first ways of exploring my body in relation to the living bodies that surrounded me. In relation also to the non-acting bodies, which for me were so present that breathing and beating would have been an unnecessary scandal. Things were born and lived from my eye to my tongue. My tongue also lived with those things to which it adhered to recognize them, to know they existed. Childhood is the excessive touch of the world, and excessive touch is: the eye touching the water, the water closely watching the iris; the iris tormented by the entering salt; the earth entering the crevice between my nails and my skin, making my cracks and hollows an infinite home; the worm-ridden fruit filling the inside of my throat. The invertebrate body of a slug sliding its moisture between my fingers; my fingers giving small spasms at the moisture; a worm the color of a split tamarillo digging a hole in the top of the leaf, my nose breathing in the sound of the insect. The sound of a coconut shell splitting open at the dry blow of a machete, pouring its water like a woman whose water breaks; the skin peeling from the tender, translucent coconut that adheres little by little to the palate.
The smell of wood as it broke, moved by the hands of large men, the earth that served as home to the splinters of the tree trunk, releasing a new scent of earth with cut wood. The sea trying to enter whole through my legs, through my mouth; the sand that populated my hair and never wanted to leave; the water resting greenish in an empty flowerpot, a living and invisible ecosystem; a green stain crying out to be looked at, to be breathed. All that, palpable in the past that is my most latent self, is still, the pleasure unfolded before the bodies.
To write, I place the body in geography, I unfold it in my mind as a map unfolds, that is to say, the abstraction of geography. I am not sure if I access reality through what the maps show me. As a child, I thought the maps were a tactile truth. I accessed the world, or filled my head with acoustic images of what I believed the world was, through the maps in the Atlases. I grew up with teachers who trusted books as a possibility of the real.
Perhaps it was at eighteen years old, almost late when I realized that Limones, La Tolita de los Ruano, and Canchimalero were not on the maps I had access to until then. I had walked along the shore of Canchimalero on more than one occasion. I had crossed from its shore to the dock in Limones; I had also slept at my grandfather's farm in La Tolita de los Ruano. Where were those shores, subsumed by non-existence on the maps?, mapping —I thought—, it also means excluding, beyond the need for time by those who make the maps, or territorial ignorance, beyond good or bad intentions, mapping is exclusion, and the shores where I had felt life were not in the maps or the books
To write, I place my body on the shore, a shore that changes because what is near the sea is always subject to rapid and radical transformation, this ever-changing shore, which my infant body perceived as infinite.
In childhood, the shore was the closest thing to freedom, at the edge of the sea, you could do anything: build absurd constructions to watch them fall swallowed by the water, swim naked while watching giant manta rays jump in the distance from which you had to flee, find flattened sea urchins that I would later discover in a marine biology book were called five-holed sand dollars, Mellita quinquiesperforata, and that it is only found in the Atlantic. But I was sure those were the urchins my feet experienced when I was a child.
What were the books telling me again?
The shore was the space of celebration, of running without limits from end to end, and the boundary of the sea could be crossed by submerging the body, becoming one with the creatures that inhabit the water. But to think of the shore is also to remember that in colonial cities, the powerful were not near this space bordering the sea for fear of being invaded by pirates; how is it that now, the daughters of Black women and pirates have been displaced from the shore?
To reach the shore, we had to walk many kilometers under the sun and the shade of the trees because even though it was close, the shore was not entirely accessible to us. From the beach, you could see the houses of the owners of the shore, who secretly dreamed of closing it off forever, preventing the passage of the daughters of the abusive Black proletariat from invading their landscape.
But, to my infant self, guided by the herd of aunts and ñañas (sisters), we cared little or nothing about what those eyes from the comfort of the balconies thought of us. We would take the bikinis, the sunglasses, straw and chonta bags, and embark on the journey on foot toward the shore.
The first public photos of me as a baby were taken on the shore of Las Palmas. My naked body, which had just learned to sit, rested on a soccer jersey, with a bottle of Pilsener on either side of the shirt, holding it down to prevent it from flying away in the wind. In the background, many semi-naked bodies danced, enjoying the sovereignty of the shore.
I speak of a self in relation to other non-humans, because being born on an island and living near the shore does not create an inherent filial bond with it. Some of the people in the neighborhood where I grew up hated the sand and detested going into the sea. Others even feared it. There were also those who couldn’t stand the festivities, the noise, and the commotion that the shore provoked. Maybe that’s why in the 2000s, there were private beaches in the province of Esmeraldas where people who had lived there all their lives couldn’t enter or even dream of settling down to enjoy their beach.
My infant self felt that I belonged to that space bordering the water and the mollusks. That there had to be some way to stay on the shore, a territory that felt like a home, a place of shelter and fun, but also of event, with all that events imply: that which is difficult to grasp with words. Everything that empties us of language.
From my personal conception, perhaps influenced by my border condition, being an Afro-descendant, Black, palenquera woman, is to have no country but to fluctuate between shores, to make possible non-verbal encounters with everything that composes it. That shore that, many times burned my feet, that sea that on more than one occasion wanted to swallow me and returned my panting body to the sand full of exoskeletons.
It is from this territory that is being taken away from us by the narco, violence, but also tourism, that Ainhoa's voice was born. My girl who has emerged from the shipwreck of the sea inside me, to reactivate a possible way of existing from literature.
A girl who overflows and changes like the sea constantly, who knows she comes from the depths of the ocean, from those temperatures and atmospheric pressure that a human body cannot withstand. That is why she always claims to return to it. On the shore, I am always another, I de-face myself, I re-signify, and I even lose my identity... from that loss, from that not-knowing, from that groping, like walking on hot sand at noon, from that constant doubt of language as a liberating device, I write.
I write filled with questions and sinuosities. Dreaming, perhaps, of inventing another language.
To learn more…
Catarina Nimbopyruá Delfina dos Santos: https://www.instagram.com/catarina_tupiguarani/
Ivan Zambrano: https://www.ivanzartist.com/
Daniela Balanzátegui, Andrea Chávez, Barbarita Lara, Génesis Delgado: https://lahalab.com/
Yuliana Ortiz: https://www.instagram.com/yuliana_ortiz_ruano/
Darwin Minda: https://www.youtube.com/user/sonero4
Amanda Takuapu: https://www.instagram.com/activatedliving/
Cleberson H. Moura: http://lattes.cnpq.br/8343007497758405
Marianne Sallum: https://www.uniarq.net/mariannesallum.html
Fabiana Leite: https://br.linkedin.com/in/fabiana-leite-560806147
Acknowledgments
The authors thank the editors of Etnográfica, especially Humberto Martins, Renata de Sá Gonçalves, and Mafalda Melo Sousa. Thanks to Ping-Ann Addo (UMass Boston) and Francisco S. Noelli (ULisboa). M. Sallum: FAPESP – São Paulo Research Foundation (2019/17868-0, 2021/09619-0, 2019/18664-9, 2024/04746-1).