30 Who Is Doing The Dishes?
Rick Bein
Who Is Doing The Dishes?
In the 70’s I was working on my doctoral studies about land tenure in southern Mato Grosso, Brazil. I was traveling from one small farm to the next as I completed my survey in the Terenos Agricultural Colony. Many of the colonists had sold their depleted lands which were then combined with other small farms to form cattle ranches. I was studying about the land use practices of the Terenos farmers and how they managed their resources. The remaining colonists were all poor, their average holding not exceeding 15 hectares, and most were looking for new forest land to clear.
I walked onto the property of an old native Brazilian, and after 100 meters came to the dilapidated structure of a house. I clapped my hands, as was the custom of getting some ones attention in much of rural Brazil. From the far side of the house he called out for me to come join him. A pack of hounds echoed a few barks then settled down.
He was sitting beside a campfire where two pots were warming. He had been whittling on a piece of wood, but when I arrived he was pleased to put that down and spent some time visiting with me. He was happy to have a visitor and he pulled a bucket of water out of a nearby well and started a pot of coffee. We chatted on as I worked my way through the questionnaire.
Unlike the other agricultural colonists who had cleared their land, he had not done much with his 15 hectares of woods. His small patch of forest served as source of fuel and an occasional place to hunt. He helped his neighbors from time to time who paid him with a sack of rice or beans.
The colonist poured me some coffee in a beat up old cup. He told me that he enjoyed hunting with his dogs, but his own property was too small, so he frequented some of the larger areas of remaining forest. I had noticed that the six hunting dogs lying listlessly in the shade were not well cared for as they were underfed and had numerous sores on different parts of their bodies. Many of the sores were infected and gave off a bad odor. I asked him why his dogs were so thin. He told me that hungry dogs made better hunters.
Example of a hungry dog. Photo by Rick Bein 2018
As it was late morning and he had answered all my questions, I was preparing to leave. He insisted that I stay for lunch since it was already warm on the fire. It would have been rude to refuse and since I did not have any other plans, I agreed to stay. He apologized that the food was not much, but he wanted to share with me. At that moment the sleeping dogs smelled food and suddenly came alive and began milling around, snapping and snarling at each other. Their stench was revolting and I was starting to lose my appetite.
“Take a plate off that shelf!” as he pointed to a stack of metal plates sitting at the bottom of someone’s discarded bookcase. I chose a plate and a spoon. As I suspected, the pots on the fire contained typical Brazilian fare, rice and beans.
I dished up my plate and sat down on a log. He scolded the dogs who were competing to get close to us and they quieted for a moment. As I began to finish my meal the dogs again became agitated.
The old native noticed that my food had been eaten and offered me a second helping. When I declined, he took my metal plate and tossed in the ground. There upon, all six dogs descended on the plate, snapping and clawing at each other for the privilege of licking it clean. The plate was scooted back and forth around the small yard and soon no morsel was left. His plate also went on to the ground whereupon the dogs gave us a repeat performance.
After the hubbub was over and what might be considered their meal, the dogs retreated to their earlier territories in the shade and went back to sleep. The licked plates remained where the dogs had left them. Thinking I could be of help, I picked them up and asked “Where can I put these dirty dishes?”
“No need to do that; they’re clean, just put them on the shelf where they came from!”
If there was one consolation, it was better to know after I had eaten, who the dishwashers were!