Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Stuff (Coisas)


One man stopped by and picked up an old rocking horse for small children, the type that is not even manufactured anymore and would nowadays be considered a safety hazard. Another stopped and picked an old trunk, all rusted, which in the past had been used to store movies. One woman hurried out of her car, maybe afraid that someone would see her, and took a bag with old stuffed animals. Then two metal collectors arrived and started separating everything that was metal. All through the night they came: old and young people, men and women, by themselves or with their families, driving nice cars or cars that had seen better days, all of them trying to find something valuable in the garbage.

Yesterday was bulk pickup day in my friend’s neighborhood, which means that people are able to put out all those large items the garbage collectors would not normally collect. I was helping my friend to clean his house and put the garbage out at the curb, but sometimes I just had to spy on the parade of people who stopped to pick through the junk. In the evening, the pile of trash was huge. When the garbage truck arrived in the morning, the pile had shrunk to half of its size. My friend's house is located close to Philadelphia, in the US, one of the wealthiest countries in the world. And still there were people sorting through his trash…

Stuff! Some of us have a lot. Some of us don’t have enough. The ones who don’t have enough complain about the lack of it. The ones who have too much (and still don’t think they have enough) sometimes don’t have room for all of their belongings anymore. So, they throw stuff away or organize yard sales.

Not being American and not being raised here, I never understood the concept of yard sales where people arrange everything they don’t want anymore on their front garden and put the stuff up for sale. It seemed strange to me to see all sort of knickknacks that should belong, in fact, in the garbage being bought by folks who, in the majority of cases, would not even use the items. What could someone do with an old record player that didn’t play anymore, with an old lamp that was bent and colorless, with books about cars from the 1950s? And, still, I saw all these items being sold.
I deeply sympathize with the people who need to rummage through someone else’s garbage because they have no money to buy at the stores, and with the ones who go to yard sales because that is all they can afford. However, folks who buy compulsively, then put their things up for sale, then buy more things, then run out of space and need to move to a bigger house so they can store still more things, then sell these things again… these people are a mystery to me.
Growing up in Brazil, where big part of the population doesn’t have much money, I got used to the idea of not accumulating stuff and giving it away to charity if I had too much. It puzzles me to think that some people put a cup for sale in a yard sale for 5 cents instead of donating it to an association that would help others in need, and that the same person then goes to a Starbucks and pays $2.50 for a cup of coffee without thinking twice. But, again, not everyone grew up with kids knocking on their doors and begging for food, smiling sadly when they were given a piece of bread.


COISAS
Um homem parou e pegou um cavalo velho de pau de brinquedo, do tipo que nem é fabricado mais e que agora é até considerado perigoso. Outro homem pegou um baú velho, todo enferrujado, que tinha sido usado para armazenar filmes. Uma mulher saiu rápido do carro, quem sabe com medo de que alguém a visse, e pegou uma sacola com bichos de pelúcia. Mais tarde, dois catadores de metais chegaram e começaram a separar tudo o que era metal. Durante a noite inteira eles apareceram: velhos e jovens, homens e mulheres, sozinhos ou com a família, dirigindo carros não muito velhos ou carros quase caíndo aos pedaços, todos tentando encontrar algo valioso no lixo.

Ontem foi dia de coleta de lixo na vizinhança do meu amigo. Era um dia especial, porque podia-se jogar no lixo coisas maiores que normalmente os lixeiros não levam. Eu estava ajudando meu amigo a limpar sua casa e colocar o lixo fora, na calçada. Mas às vezes não resistia e interrompia o trabalho para observar o desfile de pessoas que paravam para vasculhar o lixo. À noite, a pilha de lixo era enorme. Quando o caminhão de lixo chegou de manhãzinha, a pilha estava reduzida à metade do tamanho. A casa do meu amigo fica perto da Filadélfia, nos Estados Unidos, um dos países mais ricos do mundo. E mesmo assim ainda havia pessoas catando lixo ...
Coisas! Alguns de nós têm um monte. Outros não têm suficiente. Os que não têm o suficiente se queixam por nao terem nada. Os que têm muito (e ainda pensam
que não têm o suficiente), às vezes nem têm mais espaço para todas as suas coisas. Então, jogam coisas fora ou organizam um bazar no jardim.

Não sendo americana e não tendo sido criada aqui, nunca entendi o conceito desses bazares de jardim, nos quais as pessoas carregam tudo o que não querem mais para o jardim e poêm esse material para venda. Acho estranho ver todos esses tipos de quinquilharias que deveriam estar, na verdade, no lixo, sendo compradas por pessoas que, na maioria dos casos, nem vão usá-las. O que alguém pode fazer com um gravador velho que não grava mais, com uma lâmpada velha torcida e desbotada, com livros sobre carros dos anos 1950? Mesmo sem entender como, já vi todas essas coisas sendo vendidas.

Simpatizo profundamente com as pessoas que precisam de pegar coisas no lixo porque não têm dinheiro para comprar nas lojas, e com as que vão nesses bazares de jardim porque têm pouco dinheiro. No entanto, pessoas que compram compulsivamente e, em seguida, colocam suas coisas para vender, depois compram mais, e depois ficam sem espaço e precisam mudar para uma casa maior para que possam acumular ainda mais coisas e, novamente, vendem o que não querem mais ... essas pessoas são um mistério para mim.

Fui criada no Brasil, onde grande parte da população não tem muito dinheiro, e me habituei com a ideia de não acumular coisas e de dar para os pobres tudo o que não precisasse. Fico perplexa de ver algumas pessoas pondo um copo para vender num bazar de jardim por 5 centavos, em vez de doá-lo para uma associação de ajuda aos pobres, e depois indo à Starbucks e pagando $ 2,50 por uma xícara de café, sem pensar duas vezes. Mas, nem todos cresceram como eu cresci, com crianças batendo na porta da minha casa implorando por comida, e sorrindo um sorriso triste quando recebiam mesmo que fosse um pedaço de pão.

2 comments:

  1. Version 2.0
    Here in America, we're always trying to go bigger, better, faster, flashier. We buy cars and houses we can't afford because they're "the best" ones on the market at the time. We jump at each new iPhone, ipod, and ugg like snarling dogs, constantly updating our facebook pages to see what's hot. Refresh. And everything else goes into the wastebin. We don't want to be left behind. And then we go to garage sales. We don't want to be outsaved. We try to buy the rusty remnants of our youth to convince ourselves of our commendable frugality. If we keep a rickety rocking horse waiting for us in the garage, with a bag of lost dolls, our childhood and youth can't be that far gone. Here in America, it sometimes seems that we hang onto useless things when the memories should be enough. I've been guilty of it myself.

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  2. Where I come from, we call it keeping up with the Joneses, but they could have been the Smith's, the Doe's, the Public's... anyone, for that matter. We had to be one step ahead, a dollar richer, a split second faster... Life in America is one big competition, isn't it? But, is this only an American phenomenom? Doesn't this tendency to excess come from the one upsmanship in every nook and cranny of modern life? There's a saying about judging success by the size of ones toys. Bigger, better, faster. Is it ever enough? Does the race end at a point where there is some dignity? Does it continue right up to the near bank of the river Styx, concluding in a last gasp for air? Probably not, I think. I wonder if we seek to cross over in the biggest boat. After life, don't we go for the biggest, most plush and ornate coffin, the biggest and most ornate mausoleum? Isn't death just an extension of life? Bigger, better, more ornate?

    Somewhere along the way I believe our society has gotten lost. Sometimes, some of us, get very lucky before we die and the right person finds us, and reminds us which way is better. The nickel cup is more appropriately filled with rice and given to some poor, homeless person. The smile is smiled, but; most amazingly, the smile is from within because taking care of our brother or sister who is less fortunate gives a certain satisfaction, you know?

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