Brazilian homes

Brazilian homes seem to have some things in common. At least the ones I’ve seen in RS. The outside presents a red tile roof. The walls are constructed from a mix of cement and brick, with beams of pine and eucalyptus for additional support. The bricks are approximately 1’ x .5’ with 6 hollowed cylinders stretching the length of the brick. The houses in DI are painted a variety of colors—whites, pastels, or bright yellows, greens or pinks. The front door opens to the living room or dining room. There are generally three small bedrooms, a living room with a tv, a kitchen, a laundry room, and one bathroom. The garage is a place to sit and entertain people. The garage door stays open. The barbecue spit is also often in the garage, so that on Sundays, everyone sits on beach chairs and eats around a plastic table.

In the bathroom there is a small trash can with a lid, in which used toilet paper is put. The toilet paper is not biodegradable and therefore will not decompose and will possibly also clog the pipes if flushed. To flush, one must either pull a string or push a circular lever on the backboard. In some cases the shower gets hotter the less water is used. There is usually no temperature control separate from water power.

When I first got to the Horns, I had some minor confusions. One was the enormous waste basket in the bathroom. I thought, these people really take a lot of dumps! Then I saw a smaller basket on the other side of the toilet, and upon opening the larger one, understood that it was a hamper. Another issue were the pictures in the daughter’s bedroom. In her shelves she had three pictures of herself, two of her boyfriend, and seven of the two of them together. Neither her smile nor the composition of the photograph was any different in each instance. For a moment I was relieved to see a mirror so that I could look at someone else, but then there she was again, albeit in black and white.

In the kitchen there was a bowl of several dozen eggs. In the oven several containers of bread and also a table cloth. In the toaster oven some sort of meat project was taking its course. Then there were cloths covering the wet dishes in the sink and blender on a side table. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out how to turn on the stove.

Eventually I learned the logic for everything: leftovers were often stored in the toaster oven, to keep them perhaps just a little bit warm. Because the regular oven didn’t work, it was used as an extra cabinet. The stove could be lit only with a lighter. The eggs had all come from Lisete’s mother’s farm (although why they weren’t refrigerated is still unclear to me). Eggs frequently exist outside the refrigerated section of the Brazilian supermarket. And Lisete likes things looking clean and pretty, so she’ll cover up any dishes not in the cupboard.

All through the streets, colorful laundry hangs on clotheslines strung across porches and backyards. At first I was wary of hanging up my underwear but then saw that everyone does it. Makes you really want to get those stains out. They don’t have dryers, but the washing machines have an extra spin cycle, so that the clothes come out drier than they do in American machines. Other things lacking: garbage disposals, dishwashers, heating!!!—they don’t heat their houses in winter, although you can sit around the fireplace, stove, or spaceheater—answering machines, pianos, bathtubs, washcloths, and toilets that flush paper.

But their mattresses are awesome. They have no restrictions on what colors to paint their houses. There seems to be much less clutter than is found in a lot of American homes. Cleaning is a priority for most women. If they don’t do it themselves, they often hire someone else. Another awesome thing is the thickness of the walls. I am often able to block out the noise from the terrible television shows in the living room; if not just by shutting the door, then with the aid of a fan.