My mother was pregnant with me, my gender was unknown, but the tone that would touch me had already been set: pink or blue.
Nobody would think, I don’t know, in black southern mimosa, or white flour from Turkey? “-If it’s a boy it’s João, if it’s a girl it’s Maria” – my godmother, Aunt Sofia, had sentenced. In my childhood I listened to the radio, or watched black and white television (although it seemed gray, I don’t know why) and could choose between 2 channels: RTP and RTP. My father had a 2 white horse with a gray hood. One day the engine was gone, it was already hammered, then I wanted to change it; came home with Minis catalogs and said:
