The long wall of the prison drives my eyes to the ocean's horizon. On the right side, the wall leads to the wild vegetation of the jungle. By the entrance door, with his back to the village of Dois Rios, a tranquil guard holds his machine gun. He stands by a statue of Count Cândido Mendes de Almeida, the early 20th century Professor for which this prison was named. The guard rests his jacket like a turban over the head of the metal statue. Nobody here needs to demonstrate respect for the man renown as the greatest expert of the penal system in Brazil's history.

Suddenly, a bald man, with a severe look in his eyes and a thick mustache, rapidly approaches and asks me questions without introducing himself. "What do you really want here? Where are you going to stay? There is no place for you to spend a night!" I perceive that he already knows who I am. Although there are no telephones in the village, and the only radio is not working, I realize that Julita had somehow communicated about my arrival.

I explain the work I intend to pursue while I show the man my authorization and a few of my photographs. He informs me that the director of the prison, Captain Isaías da Silva, is in Rio de Janeiro and will not return until this coming weekend when a big Father's Day party will be held inside in the prison. He also mentions that about 500 family members and friends of the inmates are going to attend this party and that everyone is very busy with preparations. Marcos and one guard continue to stand by my side.

In front of our worrisome host, we all remain quiet. The silence is broken by Marcos who offers to let me stay in his little room in one of the abandoned houses. He will go to Rio and return for the party this weekend. The rough man has to accept the idea. He tells me to leave my baggage in Marcos' room and then to meet him back at the prison.

The truck is left in the hands of one villager, a mechanic who must always be available to fix the constant breakdowns. This short, humorous, fat man, is proud of his work. "If it was not for me, this prison would have already closed. I'm the only one who can keep this truck running for them to be able to bring food and others supplies to the prison. Because of this, I'm the one that keeps it all going.", the man assures me with a big smile.

While we walk towards his room, Marcos tells me that the man who received me is Mr. Getúlio Cantuária da Silva, the Chief of Security at Cândido Mendes. He adds that Mr. Cantuária is respected by all the inmates for being a religious person and the father of twelve children who were born and are all still living in the same house in this village. "Despite the first impression, Mr. Cantuária is a good person.", he concludes.

We approach Marcos' "room" and only then do I understand why he did not call it a house. In this building, where he must occasionally spend the night, his room is the only area that seems inhabitable. Even so, most of the window glass is broken, the door is cracked and the ceiling gives me the feeling that it is about to fall at any time. It is a humid place with a dank smell. It contains only a small wooden bed covered with a thin foam pad, and a cord that crosses the room from one wall to the other. This cord serves not only to hang his clothes, but also to keep his food suspended out of reach of the cockroaches and the rats.

I am concerned about the security of my photographic equipment. Our driver Marcos, who is a soldier, tells me not to worry. He believes that this island is the most secure place in Brazil since over 30 percent of its population are military people who work at the Caldron or for the State Biological Reserve.