Ipenama Apartment, Rio de Janeiro

Article
Doormen, even coming from the poorest regions (making merely 150 dollars a month for a 60 hour work week) come to know patrons, very very well. The occasion tip helps tremendously especially when dealing with "parcels from home."
The author found sanctuary in Rio de Janeiro for 200 dollars a month. It was a small studio, but in Rio de Janeiro, despite the interferences from all other 150 tenants it was more than worth the measly 200 dollars. He would hear their alarm clocks, their voices, and their vomiting.
He finally left, leaving his 30 dollar deposit with the landlord. Happily and hurriedly he left his apartment in Rio.
The landlord attempted to keep him there as long as possible and it was difficult to leave, but he did.
The only real aspect of this article that struck home is how the doormen controlled so much. For as much as their job description advised them to do (that is let people in and out) they did a lot more. Particularly the part aboutdealing with parcels from home rang clear a memory.
That is, 2 months after I had left my first host family I had returned to their gated community. I had returned not to see the family that introduced me to Brazil, but to see if I had received any mail from home. It turns out that I had. I received a package from home the day that I had left. My host parents, obviously done with me, had neglected to tell me that there was a package for me.
When my host brother drove to the booth in which the doormen stayed, they looked suspiciously upon the car. With questioning eyes they looked at my new host brother. When they saw me, however they exclaimed,
"ABIGAIL QUE VAI?! TEMOS UM PACOTE PRA VC!"- How are you Abigail? We have a package for you!
They had been keeping the package in storage for 2 month. They proudly passed it to me. I graciously accepted it.
My host brother turned around and scolded me on how informal I was with the help.
When I opened the package a burst of fire ants flooded from the box. My mother had sent me Halloween candies, that had already melted and been mostly consumed by the ants.
The only thing worth having, however, was a note that my mom had wrote. Her hand writing felt like a warm hug from home. It said all the normal things like "I miss you" and "I wish you could have seen....". It meant the world to me that the doormen had held onto it.
They were the nicest guys in the complex.