At this time of the year, the temperature is low during the night. Under the beam of my flash light, I take a chilly shower. After that, with nothing to do, I sit on my bed and I open my baggage. I read some of the headlines from newspapers that I have collected over several years. "The worse criminals go to Ilha Grande"; "Blood runs in the corridors of Devil's Caldron"; "Accursed Island; prison that never forgets its past"; "Project examines deactivation of prison on The Island"; "Ilha Grande's confinement is condemned by United Nations", "Under the sign of the 'C.V.'..."

Pestered by mosquitos, I use these newspapers to seal all the holes in the window and I turn my flash light off. When I start to relax, I hear

the distant sound of hundreds of inmates playing percussion and singing their samba songs. It is as if they are rehearsing for Carnival.

It is 10 o'clock in the morning. I walk towards the prison, thinking how the inmates are going to react when I point my camera at them. I leave my passport with the guard at the front entry. When I look towards the path that will bring me to the main gate, I see an enormous bull right in the middle of my way. The animal is staring straight at me. I grab my camera and I take my first photos. The guard advises me: "Pass by the side of the bull but do not stop close to it."

Behind the bars of the gate, some of the C.V. leaders are waiting for me. Smiling, Paulinho gives me a welcome and teaches me the Comando's special hand shake. Excited, he tells me that last night a prisoner had escaped. A young man, about 28 years old. "This guy carried a big garbage can over his shoulder up to one of the four meter walls. The tower guard spotted the boy and ordered him to get away from the wall.", continues Paulinho. "But this crazy guy didn't care and climbed onto the can. The guard pointed his gun at him and screamed, 'Stop or I will shoot you!' But the guard was afraid to kill someone who could be mentally ill and didn't have the courage to shoot even one bullet. After our buddy jumped over the wall, he disappeared into the dark." Someone else mentions that the fugitive is probably having a hard time, especially with the cold nights, the lack of food, and the mosquitos.

Paulinho takes my tripod and my camera bag. I am still holding a bag full of toys, clothes and shoes for the kids. These are the presents that I brought for the prisoners to give to their children. Inside the dormitory, I distribute everything. Because a lot of children are coming for the Father's Day party, there could not be a better occasion and my gesture is very much appreciated.

Chiquito appears wearing the same velvet shorts from the day before. The more he speaks, the more I am impressed with his bearing. As a leader of the prison, he is working hard directing and supervising tasks for the upcoming party. The inmates plan to kill a pig, which will be barbecued together with skewers of cow meat. At the patio, one group is constructing a barbecue out of concrete while others are building a stage for the musicians and a theater group. The visitor rooms are already clean and painted, and the whole prison is being decorated with colorful paper flags. A special group chalks the lines on the soccer field and I hear that a team from the favela of Rocinha will come to compete.

Even with all of this work in progress, Chiquito always manages to spend time with me. We walk into the kitchen where the prisoners will make an enormous cake in the shape of a heart, measuring three feet across. The proud cook tells me that he learned some delicious recipes during his time in another prison. He also says that the initials C.V. will be written in red over the white cake.

On one of the black walls of the dirty kitchen, someone wrote with white chalk: "Friends of friends, please do not piss in this place." There are cockroaches all around. On the floor, I see a rat running from one side to the other. "Those rats are everywhere. At night in my room, I sometimes put food for them by my bed so they can leave me to sleep in peace.", says one inmate.

Steam comes out from the big caldron, spreading all through the kitchen. A sweaty prisoner uses a huge wooden spoon to stir the food. As I photograph this bizarre scene, the prisoner turns his head slightly aside to avoid being captured by my lens. In respect, I immediately stop photographing. Chiquito notices this and walks directly to the sweaty man. With his hand clenched, he strongly punches the man's shoulder. "Why did you turn your face aside? Can't you see that he is with us?", Chiquito screams with irritation.

I feel sorry for the prisoner who holds himself back and does not say one word. Although he is silent, his eyes are glaring and he does not back up. The environment is very tense.