In the darkness of brass
The family who, in their lifetime, turned on a light bulb at home for just three months

JOAO MAURICIO DA ROSA

When, three years ago, the poles arrived bringing light to the farms of Malacacheta, in the interior of Minas Gerais, Aurora and Vítor Moreira dos Santos retired the coal-heated iron, believing that the utensil could now become a museum piece or maidenhair patch, like those of the city's madams. Almost at the turn of the century, the companion of 20 years of darkness gave way to the electric iron. But the technological leap lasted only the lifetime of an ember.

Three months after the first lamp was lit in the field, the family of farmers migrated from Malacacheta to Socorro, a tourist resort located 110 kilometers north of Campinas, in the trendy Circuito das Águas. The Jequitinhonha Valley, where the hometown is located, was exchanged for the top of Serra da Mantiqueira, 100 meters above the 745 average altitude of the municipalities.

Vítor calls the new place Cuba, but his son Valdinei, who is retired from the Iron Age, quickly corrects: “It's Jacuba, dad. The people are ashamed of the name.” Cuba or Jacuba is a town where the distance between houses is measured with the imprecision of leagues and the path to the city is only long because of the turns it takes to get around the cliffs.

The family's move was prompted by a proposal for a profitable partnership in a coffee plantation punished by fluctuations in market prices. And, already in the third harvest, the dream of high income was diluted with the return to pitch black weather and coal-ironed clothes, as the property, next to a tourist hydroelectric plant, has no electricity. “A whole life without light. When the force arrived in Malacacheta, we moved here”, comments Aurora, stoking the embers of the wood stove that heats the cauldron of water to bathe the children. “We only use firewood for beans and water. The food is on gas,” she explains.
There are six children, four supporting the coffee plantation, two of school age. The work on the farm involves three weedings per year on around 7 coffee plants grown on almost perpendicular hills. Then there is the white crop, beans and corn, and a small herd that is not in the partnership contract.

The work is surrounded by dangers represented by animals that the Bible confined in darkness: snakes and vampire bats. Described by lamplight, the boipeva, a legendary snake from the Brazilian fields, seems more frightening. “When she hears the footsteps of people or animals, she flattens like a ribbon, shrinks and takes a leap”, describes Vítor. There is also the Cruzeiro urutu, which walks in pairs and, when it hears footsteps in its wake, sets up a stakeout for the unfortunate person. “If it doesn’t kill, it maims.”

In Malacacheta, synonymous with mica – a mineral used in electronic products –, Valdinei managed to reach the fifth grade at school. Now, if he wants to continue his studies, he will have to walk almost an hour climbing mountains and climbing ravines to make way for the rare cars he sees far away through the red dust.

Fun in Jacuba (or Cuba), only on Saturdays, at the pool tables, and even just before sunset. “Here we sleep when it gets dark and wake up when it gets light”, says Valdinei
Vítor, the father, shows the utensils that accompany him through life, still trapped in the universe of brass: the bucket pulled from the well by a crying pulley; the lamp, similar to a funnel with a covered mouth “made in” Belo Horizonte; the Fama branded iron, taken from the bottom of the trunk; a portable radio recorder, which consumes four medium-sized batteries per month, and the pocket radio that Valdinei leaves turned on next to the bed. “It has two small batteries and lasts a lifetime,” he explains.

They also have a gas lamp that, strategically hung from a rafter in the living room, illuminates the four rooms of the house, but only for the time needed for the most essential tasks. “It uses a lot of gas”, explains Vítor. From time to time they see a battery-powered television at their married daughter's house, which they visit along a path between the forest and the coffee plantation.

Quarter of a league – Vítor struggles to understand the sequence of steps he will have to wait to receive electricity again. Agricultural technician Alcides Trainoti, from Casa da Agricultura de Socorro, explains that the posts have already started to climb the mountain and are a few kilometers below Jacuba, now in the real neighborhood of Cuba. “A quarter of a league”, he calculates, remembering that a league corresponds to 6 kilometers (the lip is imprecise, as it is estimated by the stretched lower lip, according to Aurélio’s dictionary).

“You will soon receive a visit from a company employee, who will measure the necessary number of poles and wires to draw electricity”, warns Alcides. “Will they bring strength and light?” asks Vítor, probably influenced by the name of the distributor in charge.

CPFL (Companhia Paulista de Força e Luz), which holds the concession for that area for energy distribution, has already registered around 400 rural properties without electricity just in the vicinity of Mantiqueira. In total, the company has plans to serve 10 thousand properties in the State of São Paulo by 2003, following the rules of the government programs Luz na Terra and Luz no Campo.

If there is enthusiasm for the announced light, Vítor does not show it. After all, the twilight increasing the humidity in the mountains warns that it is time to retire. Early tomorrow we have to go back up the hill to deal with the coffee and the boipevas. Better to hide in the darkness of the brass, instead of cherishing a dream of light that you disdained in Malacacheta and now is still leagues away from Jacuba.