There is no doubt that the art of architecture among us has advanced greatly over what it once was, and there have already been raised in our country numerous buildings that are marvels of beauty and perfection inside and out. But this does not mean that everything we see of these new buildings satisfies the health requirements which are the first of the requirements of dwelling houses. Let it not escape our minds that not everything new and beautiful is good for us and for our families... Far be it from a daughter of my country to be dazzled by these towering buildings, beautiful in outward show, and to strive to imitate them, spending with her husband everything cheap and dear to own one of them, or to rent a house of their kind merely because it is modern and up to date.
Would that our esteemed engineers did not imitate those buildings whose lines are left to their care to draw — those buildings found in the European capitals, where the very air has a price, to say nothing of the land on which they stand. Our land, praise God, is spacious and plentiful, above all when we turn our eyes to building in the open country or in the suburbs, if we are dwellers in the big cities. As for the villages and the mountains, there we have no excuse whatever if we fail to follow the ideal plan in choosing the suitable site and the kind of architecture appropriate to the building. I am gratified by what I often hear these days of the complaints of some of my sisters, the ladies who live in these new houses, and what they say: "These houses, even though they fulfill the health requirements as to drains, kitchens, and bathrooms, choke our breath by the smallness of their rooms and the lowness of their ceilings and their exposure to sharp heat in summer and biting cold in winter. What adds to our oppression is that we feel no family independence, the houses being stuck one against the other, so that
we confine ourselves to whispering when we speak, and to muffling our mouths when we cough and when the children play, lest we cause annoyance to the neighbors — as they, most of the time, cause it to us." Is this, then, the house we mean when we sing: "O my house, O my houses, O concealer of my faults! In you I eat, in you I drink, in you I stretch out at my ease..."? No, by my life! Our old village house, with its
single spacious room, ringed by oaks and walnut trees and evergreen oaks, far from the eyes of watchers and the hearing of intruders, is a thousand times better than these white hovels built wall to wall, where dozens of inhabitants dwell upon a patch of ground that does not exceed one or two hundred meters by count.
The first thing that must be attended to when planning to build a house, or to rent one, is the choice of a natural site fulfilling the health requirements in the first degree: let it be raised above the level of the ground, as far as possible from the quarters where crowding and noise abound, and overlooking beautiful views that rest the eye and please the taste. It is no secret what effect this has on our nerves and our tempers as we go about our household work. Nor do I think there is one of us who has not experienced for herself what refreshing, strength-renewing power lies in beautiful natural scenery, as we look out upon it from a high hill, after a day in which toil and weariness have worn us out.
Let it be far, far away — whatever the cost — from the swamps and the foul odors that arise from them, for they do grievous harm to health; otherwise we and our children will remain exposed to constant danger from these microbes, which are carried into our houses at every hour of the night and day. And woe, then woe to us, if these microbes find with us an atmosphere of dampness congenial to them! They will not scruple to settle in it at their broad ease, so that years may pass over their presence in their hiding places, and they spring out from time to time and prey upon whomever they succeed in entering, into his stomach or his blood.
And finally, I beg you, daughter of my homeland, do not offend against this vital duty out of ignorance of the art of building, or out of a belief that this matter is the province of the man alone. Be assured, rather, that in the instinct of every woman there is a hidden secret that guides her to what suits her and what does not, as she moves among the rooms of her house, airing, arranging, and cleaning.
To voice your opinion on the site of the house, the number of rooms and windows and the conveniences you require, and the degree of their height or lowness, their length and their breadth, is one of your rights which none may contest with you. And beware of being lax about renting or building a house in a way that shuts out from it the sun, the light, and the air — those three elements without which we have no life.
