Describe a family member you are close to

I'd like to talk about my older brother, Rafael. He is eight years older than me and he works as electrician in Recife, the city where we grew up in the north-east of Brazil.

When I was a child we spent time together almost every day, because my father worked on an oil platform and he was away for two weeks every month. Now Rafael is married and he lives in other neighbourhood, so we don't see each other so often like before. Normally we meet on Sundays at my mother's house for lunch, and sometimes on Saturday mornings.

What we like doing together is fixing my father's old car. It's a Volkswagen Fusca from 1978 and it was broken since many years, so two years ago we decided to repair it ourselves. Honestly, we spend more time to talk and drink coffee than working on it. We also go to watch football, because we both support Sport Recife.

I think we are close because when my father was away, Rafael was like a second father for me. He taught me to ride a bike and he helped me with my homework, but he never treated me like a baby. Even now, when I have a big decision, he is the first person who I call him.

The family member I'm closest to is my older brother, Rafael. He's eight years older than me, he's an electrician, and he still lives in Recife, in the north-east of Brazil, where we both grew up.

For most of my childhood we were together pretty much every day. Our dad worked on an offshore oil platform, two weeks on and two weeks off, so while he was away Rafael was the man of the house, even though he was only a teenager himself. These days it's different, because he's married with a baby daughter and lives in the other side of the city. Still, we hardly ever miss Sunday lunch at our mum's, and most Saturday mornings we meet up in her garage.

That's where our big project is: Dad's 1978 Volkswagen Beetle, which had been rusting under a tarpaulin for as long as I can remember. We've been restoring it for about two years now. To be honest, progress is painfully slow, since we spend more time chatting and arguing about football than actually holding a spanner, but that's sort of the point.

As for why we're so close, I think it goes back to those years when Dad was away. Rafael taught me to ride a bike, he sat through my maths homework with me, and he never once made me feel like a nuisance. And now that I'm an adult, he's the person I ring first whenever I've got a difficult decision to make, because he'll tell me the truth even if I don't want to hear it.

I'm closest to my older brother, Rafael, who's eight years my senior and works as an electrician back in Recife, the city in north-eastern Brazil where we were both brought up.

When I was small we were practically inseparable, partly out of necessity. Our father worked on an offshore rig, a fortnight on and a fortnight off, so for half of every month Rafael was effectively in charge, despite being barely sixteen. Nowadays the rhythm's quite different: he's married, he's got a one-year-old, and he lives on the far side of the city, so it's down to Sunday lunch at Mum's and the odd Saturday morning. Even so, we're in touch most days, usually through a stream of voice messages about nothing in particular.

The Saturdays revolve around a shared obsession: our dad's 1978 Volkswagen Beetle, which spent fifteen years gathering rust under a tarpaulin. We've been bringing it back to life, panel by panel, for the best part of two years. I won't pretend we're efficient; most sessions involve far more coffee and heated debate about Sport Recife than actual mechanics, but neither of us would want it to go any faster.

Why are we so close? I think because he stepped into a role nobody asked him to take on, and he never once made me feel like a burden for it. He taught me to ride a bike, he talked me through my first heartbreak, and he still doesn't sugar-coat anything. Whenever I'm facing a big decision, his is the first number I dial, precisely because I know he'll be honest with me.