Harry Schinke, citizen of Foz do Iguaçu, in the memories of his granddaughter

The first call to number 72-12-38 made Elizabeth Carinzio, a teenager, almost fall over in shock. It was the first time she had heard a telephone ring, one of the few at the time and which had just been installed. It was Foz do Iguaçu in the 1970s, about to enter a period of great changes due to the construction of Itaipu Binacional, among which was an exponential increase of 300% in its population, which was close to 30 thousand residents.

Born in December 1959, the daughter of Luiz and Laís Lizette Carinzio, Laly, and granddaughter of Harry and Marieta Schinke, is the guardian of the family's memories, which are intertwined with the history of Foz do Iguaçu itself. She hopes to see her parents' and grandparents' houses preserved and transformed into a museum, along with their furniture and objects, but she does not hide her skepticism about the realization of this dream, given the government's lethargy in protecting the historical heritage.

Grandfather Harry Schinke arrived in Foz do Iguaçu in the 1920s to provide preventive care to the population and was one of the city's first photographers, leaving behind records that are testimonies of facts and characters. He worked for the Navy, in machinery, and in the taxi service, from the old airport to the Iguaçu Falls, as well as occasionally bringing goods from Argentina. He began living in the historic house on Rua Tiradentes in 1925, recalls Elizabeth Carinzio, one of the oldest buildings in the city still standing.

Her parents built the colonial-style mansion next door, initially in 1938, renting it to Panair, a branch of the Pan American company, where the then young João Samek, also a pioneer, worked, she recalls. In 1940, the family opened a hardware company in the space that sold to Brazilians and Paraguayans, with Elizabeth at the helm in recent times. “I still have the initial permit today,” he notes.

Harry and Marietta

Coming from Germany, first to Joinville (SC), where relatives lived, when Harry Schinke moved to Foz do Iguaçu the city had been officially created for about a decade, instituted by bureaucracy in 1914. He and Marieta had the following children: Laís Lizette – who was born in 1923, in a house next to the main church –, Harrison, Teresina, Haydy and Daniel, all deceased.

“I was his darling,” says Elizabeth, about her relationship with her grandfather. Schinke made photography his hobby, using cameras that his brother probably brought from São Paulo – and one of them may have been a gift –, says his granddaughter. She still keeps one of the models, a medium-sized Rolleicord with a double lens, a device that was manufactured between the 1930s and 1970s.

But what could have made Harry Schinke take a liking to photography? “He came from Germany when he was young. Maybe seeing all this beauty, something a bit wild, might have awakened this in him,” says his granddaughter, who lived with the pioneer until she was 15. Methodical, informed, a reader, affable, a friend of the Engel and Basso families, among others, and a friend of the Swiss scientist Moisés Bertoni, who lived on the border, he liked canastra, chess and licorice, an ancient and sweet plant that he shared with the little ones in the house.

Harry Schinke’s library consisted of classics and medical books. “He loved to read. He was studious, always discovering something,” Elizabeth recalls. “In the afternoons, he would sit on the back porch of the house. I would sit on his feet, and there would usually be a magazine there for me to read. And he had a cat, Grandma Marieta’s, whose tail I loved to pull,” she says.

Marieta Schinke was responsible for “taking care of the children,” recalls Elizabeth, and for working hard in the vegetable garden, growing cassava, corn, fruits and the garden – which had no medicinal plants. Of “Polish” descent, she enjoyed cooking for many people. “At Christmas, I would kill and prepare two chickens, with a dessert of gelatin and dulce de leche. There have never been Christmases like those again. I miss them a lot,” she says.

When the general staff of what would become the Prestes Column settled in Foz do Iguaçu, the soldiers would knock on the Schinkes’ door, probably to raid Marieta’s pots and pans, explains Elizabeth Carinzio, based on conversations she had with her mother, Laly. In difficult times, her grandmother was one of the mainstays of the family’s livelihood. “Oh, what a nice old lady, I really liked her. They say I have her style.”

In one of the biggest events in Foz do Iguaçu in its early days, Marieta Schinke danced the waltz with none other than the inventor of the airplane, Santos Dumont, an illustrious visitor. “I heard her tell the story in the living room, just the two of us. I was fascinated: 'Grandma, tell me again?!'”, recalls Elizabeth, with tears in her eyes filled with pride, joy and longing. “I went around telling everyone that my grandmother had danced with Santos Dumont”, she adds.

Laly Schinke's House

The house where Elizabeth grew up and lived until December of last year is called, for memorial purposes, Casa Laly Schinke. Born in the 1920s of the last century, Mrs. Laly was a woman who lived ahead of her time. She was a photography lab technician and assistant to Harry Schinke, whose tasks included washing the images in a fountain of running water that flowed at a medium distance from the family home.

“She was good at photography, she used my grandfather’s cameras, like the one I have. But she only took photos of our family,” explains Elizabeth. “Mom was always a woman ahead of her time. She learned to sew by herself, because she wanted to have her own clothes. She wore long pants at a time when women were forbidden to wear them,” she recalls.

About his father, Luiz Carinzio, an Italian from Lucca, highlights his work transporting passengers from Foz do Iguaçu to Guaíra, along the Paraná River, with the boats São Francisco and Santo Antônio, purchased in Rio Grande do Sul. And his work in the store selling tools, machines and other utensils, which saw a considerable increase in business with the installation of Itaipu Binacional, such as the sale of motors and items for swimming pools.

When his financial situation was tight, he worked as a blacksmith, in the forge and vice kept in the back of the house. During the Second World War, with the federal government's persecution of Italian and German families living on the border, Luiz Carinzio had to report daily to the police station, which at the time was located at the head of the space that houses the Praça da Paz.

“Foreigners were monitored in Foz do Iguaçu. My father didn’t have to leave the region, like other families, because, according to the authorities, he wasn’t, let’s say, a dangerous person, he didn’t pose a risk to world peace,” she recalls, with irony and indignation. “My mother said with great resentment that he would finish his work, take a shower and go to the police station to sign a book,” explains Elizabeth.

“I miss my family”

Young Elizabeth rarely left the house, only with her family, but she couldn't avoid the sessions at Cine Star, on Avenida Brasil, where the group would get together to exchange comics and catch up on stories. “The first time I went alone, I watched 'Ben-Hur'. It was an event I'll never forget. I still love the film today”, she reveals, revealing that it was possible to enter the cinema as a “rat”, thanks to the indulgence of Vitório Basso, who ran the house.

“I grew up and lived in this area all my life and I don’t want to leave,” he points to the area of ​​the family’s mansions, which includes the Monjolo River in the background. The changes the city has undergone since the 1970s have been positive for it. Itaipu brought new people, brought life to the city, and there has been growth, he says. “But we also had good mayors, who would go out on the streets to talk and listen to people. They didn’t hide behind walls,” he says.

She is nostalgic and says she feels proud and sad. “What I miss most is my family. I miss them so much. After people are gone, things are never the same again. The house is the same, but…” she remembers fondly and emotionally. Her favorite compositions of her grandfather are a miniature collection of the Iguaçu Falls, all landscapes, made after meticulous observation of the scene.

A 64-year-old businesswoman, she says she is passionate about photography. At the end of the interview, however, the granddaughter of Harry Schinke, one of the first to practice photography in the city, makes it known that she does not like being photographed. Finally, Elizabeth Carinzio kindly agrees to take the photo in front of her parents' old house, which has been part of the Foz do Iguaçu landscape since the late 1930s.