Sob o céu estrelado de Pombal: fragmentos recompostos

Abstract

Founded by Teodódio de Oliveira Ledo, Pombal was built on the bodies of the Ariús, Coremas, Panatis and Pegas Indians, all from the great Cariri nation, and of fugitive blacks, leading us to believe in the existence of a large quilobo in the region, which would justify the presence of Domingo Jorge Velho in the upper Sertão of Paraíba, around 1966. As a rule, the same thing happened with so many other inland cities of colonial Brazil during its occupation process. These people, Indians and fugitive blacks, also “collaborated” in the founding of other cities, such as Campina Grande, where they were taken in chains by the same mercenary who called himself Bandeirante in search of gold, which, in truth, was just a pretext to hunt and enslave Indians, in exchange for large tracts of land. The name of the city is an unfair tribute to the Marquis of Pombal, Sebastião José de Carvalho, Prime Minister of D. José I, King of Portugal, persecutor of the Jesuits and responsible for the decimation of the Guaranis. His biography includes the invasion and destruction of the Jesuit Missions in Rio Grande do Sul. The city, however, cannot be held responsible for these historical facts. It is not known for sure what led to the change of name from Arraial de Piancó and later Povoação de Nossa Senhora do Bom Sucesso do Piancó to Pombal, since the illustrious Portuguese entered the history of the country as a truculent and cruel administrator who spared no effort to achieve his goal, which was to keep the colony increasingly subservient to its colonizers. Pombal was the first in the upper Sertão of Paraíba. We will live in a time when the milkman and the baker would spend the cold early mornings, leaving milk and bread made in Seu Napoleão's bakery on each doorstep of their customers, which would undoubtedly be found by the sleepy residents in the first rays of the morning sun, except in some houses that were on the way of the students of the Diocesan College. I am talking about the time when Zé do Bigodão, an electrician for the city hall, with a lamplighter straight out of Exupéry's stories, would hang from the lampposts, firmly attached to his belt, to light the few lamps in the city, and, wanting to give due value to his work, since he felt like God in Genesis, he would not turn on the switch that replaced the darkness with the brightness of electric light until at least a dozen curious spectators had appeared. However, this is not a book that aims to rescue the facts from a historical and didactic point of view. To do so, more dedication and research would be necessary. It is just, I believe, a book that will try to tell some stories that happened in a small town, through which many readers will certainly see themselves running through the streets. These are stories that I want to record at least for my children who, by the way, are already tired of hearing them. It is an opportunity that I am giving them so that they can have an idea of ​​what it was like to live in a small town where only the radio, through Voz do Brasil, and some newspapers from the previous week kept us informed of the events.