If
You Tell The Housewife You Do Not Smoke She Will Stare At You In
Gaping Wonder.
Their children use the weed, and I have seen a mother
urge her three-year-old boy to whiff at a cigarette.
Bound each dwelling is a ramada, where grapes in their season hang
in luxuriant clusters; and each has its own garden, where palms,
peaches, figs, oranges, limes, sweet potatoes, tobacco, nuts, garlic,
etc., grow luxuriantly. The garden is surrounded by a hedge of cacti
or other kindred plants. The prickly pear tree of that family is one
of the strangest I have seen. On the leaves, which are an inch or
more in thickness, grows the fruit, and I have counted as many as
thirteen pears growing on a single leaf. When ripe they are a deep
red color, and very sweet to the taste. The skin is thick, and
covered with innumerable minute prickles. It is, I believe, a most
refreshing and healthful food.
Meat is very cheap. A fine leg of mutton may be bought for the
equivalent of twelve cents, and good beef at four cents a pound.
Their favorite wine, Lagrimas de San Juan (Tears of Holy John), can
be bought for ten cents a quart.
All cooking is done on braziers - a species of three-legged iron
bucket in which the charcoal fire is kindled. On this the little
kettle, filled from the well in the patio, is boiled for the
inevitable mate. About this herb I picked up, from various sources,
some interesting information. The mate plant grows chiefly In
Paraguay, and is sent down the river in bags made of hides. From the
village of Tacurti Pucu in that country comes a strange account of
the origin of the yerba mate plant, which runs thus: "God,
accompanied by St. John and St. Peter, came down to the earth and
commenced to journey. One day, after most difficult travel, they
arrived at the house of an old man, father to a virgin young and
beautiful. The old man cared so much for this girl, and was so
anxious to keep her ever pure and innocent, that they had gone to
live in the depths of a forest. The man was very, very poor, but
willingly gave his heavenly visitors the best he could, killing in
their honor the only hen he possessed, which served for supper.
Noting this action, God asked St. Peter and St. John, when they were
alone, what they would do if they were Him. They both answered Him
that they would largely reward such an unselfish host. Bringing him
to their presence, God addressed him in these words: 'Thou who art
poor hast been generous, and I will reward thee for it. Thou hast a
daughter who is pure and innocent, and whom thou greatly lovest. I
will make her immortal, and she shall never disappear from earth.'
Then God transformed her into the plant of the yerba mate. Since then
the herb exists, and although it is cut down it springs up again."
Other stories run that the maiden still lives; for God, instead of
turning her into the mate plant, made her mistress of it, and she
lives to help all those who make a compact with her, Many men during
"Holy week," if near a town, visit the churches of Paraguay and
formally promise to dedicate themselves to her worship, to live in
the woods and have no other woman. After this vow they go to the
forest, taking a paper on which the priest has written their name.
This they pin with a thorn on the mate plant, and leave it for her to
read. Thus she secures her devotees.
Roman Catholicism is not "Semper Idem," but adapts itself to its
surroundings.
Mate is drunk by all, from the babe to the centenarian; by the rich
cattle-owner, who drinks it from a chased silver cup through a golden
bombilla, to his servant, who is content with a small gourd, which
everywhere grows wild, and a tin tube. Tea, as we know it, is only to
be bought at the chemist's as a remedy for nerves. In other
countries it is said to be bad for nerves.
Each house possesses its private altar, where the saints are kept.
That sacred spot is veiled off when possible - if only by hanging in
front of it a cow's hide - from the rest of the dwelling. It consists,
according to the wealth or piety of the housewife, in expensive
crosses, beads, and pictures of saints decked out with costly care;
or, it may be, but one soiled lithograph surrounded by paper flowers
or cheap baubles of the poorer classes; but all are alike sacred.
Everything of value or beauty is collected and put as an offering to
these deities - pieces of colored paper, birds' eggs, a rosy tomato or
pomegranate, or any colored picture or bright tin. Descending from
the ridiculous to the gruesome, I have known a mother scrape and
clean the bones of her dead daughter in order that they might be
given a place on the altar. Round this venerated spot the goodwife,
with her palm-leaf broom, sweeps with assiduous care, and afterwards
carefully dusts her crucifix and other devotional objects with her
brush of ostrich feathers. Here she kneels in prayer to the different
saints. God Himself is never invoked. Saint Anthony interests himself
in finding her lost ring, and Saint Roque is a wonderful physician in
case of sickness. If she be a maiden Saint Carmen will find her a
suitable husband; if a widow, Saint John will be a husband to her;
and if an orphan, the sacred heart of the Virgin of Carmen gives
balsam to the forlorn one. Saint Joseph protects the artisan, and if
a candle is burnt in front of Saint Ramon, he will most obligingly
turn away the tempest or the lightning stroke. In all cases one
candle at least must be promised these mysterious benefactors, and
rash indeed would be the man or woman who failed to burn the candle;
some most terrible vengeance would surely overtake him or his family.
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