40 years · 40 stories: Elisabete Neves
"In this story, Elisabete Neves takes us back to the 90s, when research funding arrived in the form of five cheques and recalls her first mission as the “official funding collector”."
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The Five-Cheque Journey
"There was a time when, in order to carry out research, you had to catch a train… and go and collect the money.”
When I joined LIP in the 90s, there were certain procedures that make me smile today… One of them involved research projects, from submitting the application to managing the funding.
Applying for a project was not simply a matter of having a good idea and writing the proposal. Then came the printing stage, which could easily take up an entire night.
All the documents were subsequently sent by post, but not just anyhow. They had to be organised into three separate envelopes, labelled “A”, “B” and “C”, almost like some sort of puzzle:
Envelope “A” contained the project summary, objectives and keywords, all submitted anonymously, as though it were part of a secret competition. Envelope “B” contained the complete proposal: the state of the art, work plan, budget, team members’ CVs and references. It was, essentially, the hefty bundle. Envelope “C” contained the institutional details and signed declarations, the more solemn part of the process.
As for the funding, at the time, the JNICT (Portuguese National Board for Scientific and Technological Research) was responsible for research projects. There was, however, one small “detail”: the approved funds did not simply appear in the bank account. No. Someone had to go and collect them… in Lisbon.
My first assignment as the “official funding collector” has remained firmly etched in my memory. I planned the journey to Lisbon very carefully. By 7.20 a.m., I was already on the train, determined not to arrive late.
Of course, I arrived far too early: the treasury office did not open until 10 a.m. After the customary ritual of signatures, checks and official stamps, I was handed five cheques corresponding to the approved funding.
That was when I realised that the assignment came with a rather different kind of responsibility. I walked out onto the street with my handbag tightly closed and one thought constantly running through my mind: “What if I’m mugged?”
The return journey passed without incident, although I remained on high alert throughout.
When I arrived in Coimbra, the priority was clear: deposit the cheques as quickly as possible. Only then could I breathe a sigh of relief. Mission accomplished!
Curiously, the entire process, which had begun before eight in the morning and involved travelling to Lisbon, waiting at the JNICT, collecting the cheques, transporting them and depositing them in Coimbra, was completed by around 1 p.m. With time, the following missions were carried out with greater confidence and a little more ease.
Today, looking back from a world of digital platforms and instant clicks, it is almost difficult to believe. But there really was a time when, in order to carry out research, you had to catch a train… and go and collect the money.
Stories like this were part of the daily lives of many people who, in different roles, contributed to LIP’s journey. Forty years of an institution are built on that collective effort.