A house named "Los Arcos"

A house called "Los Arcos"

All I can remember is moving to an old house that previously belonged to a certain Mr.Smith. 

We came to live in this grand house in a new part of Caracas called "El Country Club".

I was not really aware of the marvelous new location or the house itself until I was old enough to be observant. Seems that in my early years I took everything for granted. So to me, this old house was new.

I have no recollection of when my grandparents remodeled and maybe changed part of it for their accommodation. In my memory everything was as I recall when we moved in.

The decor was exquisite. Everything bought with each corner of the house taking into consideration. My grandmother would walk the corridors checking each chair, table, vase, lamps, rugs, carpets. She noticed everything and demanded perfection.

I remember classical paintings that hung around the corridors, colonial furniture spread in sets outside and in the various rooms. To our amazement, each had their own special chosen fabrics with different colors and motifs. So the rooms that encircled the aisles had names depending on the color scheme. The blue room, the pink room, the modern room, the library. 

The house had and interior patio garden filled with flowers and trees plus 2 fountains that had so many butterflies and little bugs we would spend the day trying to catch them.

"Granpapá" had two hobbies, carpentry and electricity. He would fix anything and construct  various items for the enjoyment of the grandchildren. On the other hand, "Granmamá" would decide the menu while having breakfast and dedicate her morning to calling the family members and remind us of birthdays or to talk about the daily gossip. 

She would entertain marvelously and converted the house into a socialite gathering of personalities. Taking  care of all the details, the day would progress into the night.

Lunch would be served at one thirty precisely. The private back door of the garage would open and in came various family members to join us. No less than than 8 people would normally come for lunch. Next to the rattan dining room was a patio leading to the rear garden. There, 2 parrots would sing along and mimic our conversation routinely.

The menu was designed in a way that each day we knew what was in store for us. My favorite was Thursdays. A Venezuelan dish called "pabellon" would be served. Shredded meat with black beans and fried plantains. Rice shaped in a mold as base to some fried eggs on top. 

Fridays would be  the catch  of the day. Fish. Avoided by a few.

During the evening, the menu would change. More sophisticated and planned depending on the guests that would arrive. It would start with the adults sitting in the library to talk about events while children ran around the corridors waiting for the formal invitees. Around 7 o'clock the front door would open and different friends of the family would come for dinner which was served in the main dinning room at exactly 9 PM. I can remember many important visitors coming for dinner as regular and as routinely that we never thought anything extraordinary about it. To us, those people were simple guests and friends of the house. 

The meal would elapse by the sound of interesting conversations and accompanied by little frogs croaking very loudly from the inside garden. The children would then be allowed to leave the table sooner and the party would move to the library to smoke and have a "poussé- café."

If you walked the corridors late at night, you could feel the cold and the darkness of the surrounding pillars and maybe felt the touch of spirits behind you. Therefore, I seldom came out of my room to wander around. The imagination playing games with our fears. 

"Los Arcos" would remain till the death of granpapá and granmamá. 

Sold, it was demolished.

Maybe it was better to have it disappear that way and not be abandoned for nature to surrouhdingly engulf it . During the demolish fase, we all avoided the road that would lead us to the facade.

A beautiful museum style arched house that will forever remain in our thoughts and in the memory of a generation. A house for a few privileged family members that shared that magical bonding experience and still remain together thanks to affection transmitted by the owners.