Notes from a day in the field

The instructions were: if the location designated for the survey is in a high-risk area, request a relocation from Antônio (the field research coordinator).

Since August 2024, I’ve been working as a funded undergraduate research assistant at the Centro de Estudos Urbanos (CEURB) at the Universidade Federal de Minas Gerais (UFMG). Most of my work consists of visiting households and administering surveys for a research study on the mobility of elderly people in the metropolitan region of Belo Horizonte. Before leaving home, I usually check Google Street View to see what the neighborhoods I’ll be visiting look like. And sometimes, staring at the screen, I think: “Should I really go there? Or is it better to talk to Antônio?” When that question crosses my mind, I know it will be an interesting day in the field.

The account below describes one of those days.

Upon arriving at the assigned location, I looked for house number 46. The number wasn’t marked, but the house was abandoned, and just over half a meter from its wall, a mining railway ran through the area.
Near the corner, a group was drinking at an improvised table. I introduced myself and asked if anyone knew a local resident who fit the research profile. One woman committed to helping me: “Dona B. will help you – she’s over 80.” She led me into an alley and called out several times in front of a metal door. Then she came back down the steps: “Silence. She must be sleeping.” As we left, she stopped at an open door and asked a man, “How old are you?” “Sixty,” he replied. “This boy wants to talk to you.” She walked away.

When I ask, “Which of these options best describes your color or race?” he pauses. “I think I’m pardo.” He looks for some sign of agreement on my face. His wife, in her mid-50s, helps him respond. He’s gentle but sometimes distant—likely due to the medication. His mobility depends on the availability of services at the Mental Health Reference Center. When there are beds, he stays a few nights; when there are drivers, he spends the day. When neither is available, someone comes and says, “Bring the glass of water,” and he takes his medication. That day was the third case.

They shared frustrations: handling crises without hospitalization, the behavior of healthcare workers, the poor conditions of sidewalks where he frequently fell.

“It’s hard to find work. There’s still prejudice against people from the favela,” she said. After years as an informal caregiver, she now watches their health and autonomy fade. They feel “worthless” in the eyes of others.

This is not a story of resilience. It’s just another day when I looked at the screen and thought: “Should I really go there? Or is it better to talk to Antônio?” And I decided to go.