Monday, March 12, 2007

porco






Cesar remembered that he wanted to show me some pictures. That´s me on the right.


It was raining here, in this picture, so we stopped. Look there is the knife I was telling you about. It is a very dangerous tool.

This is a picture of me in the lodging of the cana plantation.
"Ugh, I hate that picture," cesar’s wife says. "I cant stand it when your hair is long in the back like that. I am glad I made you cut it off when you came back."

pot burners

I am twenty years old Yeah I look a bit older than I am really. It the work that does it. My muscles are gone already.
I went to cut sugar cane two times. The first I rented a house in the city, the second I stayed in the lodging. When I rented a house in the city, I was one of those, you know, what do you call them? Oh yeah, “Pot Burners”. [quema latas, migrant workers who use thin pots to cook for themselves. They notoriously burn their food.] Living in the lodging was much worse than living in the city. Why? Well you know, I like to drink a bit, and I had to walk really far from the lodging to the nearest bar. Yeah, they had a small bar at the lodging but the beer was way too expensive.
my day started with this story:
Yeah mom suffers a lot. He dirties himself a lot, and she cleans his clothes for him. you know he’s not sick, he drinks. He drinks a lot. Mom told me that he was yelling a lot and he peed all over himself and the sofa when you were there visiting, I am sorry you had to see that. It is only because of junior that he lives in the house. When he is away, junior is all distracted and loses weight. Junior is crazy for his father even though he is abusive. His father uses ugly language and yells at him but I guess Junior is used to it. My brother wants to leave the house. But he hasn’t made enough money yet. All the money he brings back from cutting sugar cane goes to taking care of Junior’s father and mom. Mom sometimes even has to use her bolsa da escola (welfare), the money that is supposed to be used for buying junior’s school uniform and books, to take care of junior’s father. Now that my husband passed the government exams, we have a bit more money and promised to help my brother start to build a new home.
My father hasn’t been very helpful either. He just started talking to us and caring about our children recently, now that we have all grown up. I remember a time when we were really hard up for money and there was absolutely nothing in the house to eat. Mom told us to go ask dad to help us out. We went to his home in the other neighborhood. When we entered the house we saw that he was eating a big plate of food. He told us to get out. But, you know, this hunger was really deep hunger, desperate hunger, so we were insistant. Finally he scooped up leftovers from his meal served them into our hands. Treated us like dogs. Like dogs. I will never forget this, ever. It hurts to remember. That’s why my doors are always open for anyone who needs help. I will never shut my door for anyone.