Feels like home

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As a kid, I would spend some time out of my summer vacation on my uncle’s farm in Ord, Neb. I always loved going out to the seemingly-endless fields of green corn crops and distant sounds of cows mooing. Farms are peaceful, beautiful and always interesting. The landless workers farm i’ve been documenting is no exception.

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Just getting out to this farm is an adventure in itself. From the hostel I take four different subway lines, one bus and walk about two miles along the interstate until everything gets quiet and i’m surrounded by what i love the most: lush green foliage and the smell of fresh fruit and vegetables (even though i don’t eat most of them).

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This farm always has something going on, digging holes for a new fence with a post-hole-digger, similar to the same one my dad and uncle tried to teach me how to use, although I could never dig holes nearly as fast as either of them. Chickens and ducks take up vacancy inside the squatted farm house just the same as the people who live there.

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Recently, the transformer inside the plywood and tin home quit working, causing the electricity to go out. A new one cost about 100 reals or $50, which is not in the budget, forcing the family to find a way to wire electricity from a telephone pole or any way they can make it work.

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Even though i’m on another continent, things always remind me of those summers in Ord. Farmers have always been nice and caring people in my book, and the same is true in Brazil. The work is always hard and under the scorching sun. I’m glad to have found people that spark these memories for me, and I hope my presence in their home leaves them with some good memories as well.

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Thanks for looking,

Matt

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