Vaqueiros + Pantaneiros

“My name is Francisco de Assis, and I am a son of this land,” he said. Lean, leather-skinned, hardened by the Sertão, he straps on his armor—not just for sun and thorns, but as a badge of ancestry, a bond with fellow vaqueiros, wandering knights of the caatinga.
The Sertão is ruthless: droughts, floods, soil at 140°F. He raises cattle, goats, pigs, and chickens, tends onions and beans, and drives his herds through thorny scrub in the pega do boi no mato. Survival is everything.