Politeness, and the Demands of Etiquette--The Daily Life of the
Tarahumare--The Woman's Position is High--Standard of Beauty--Women
Do the Courting--Love's Young Dream--Marriage Ceremonies, Primitive
and Civilised--Childbirth--Childhood.
For a barbarian, the Tarahumare is a very polite personage. In
his language he even has a word "reko" which is the equivalent of
the English "please," and which he uses constantly. When passing a
stranger, or leaving a person, he draws attention to his action by
saying, "I am going." As he grows civilised, however, he loses his
good manners.
In spite of this he is not hospitable; the guest gets food, but there
is no room for him in the house of a Tarahumare. A visitor never
thinks of entering a house without first giving the family ample time
to get ready to receive him. When he approaches a friend's home, good
manners require him to stop sometimes as far as twenty or thirty yards
off. If he is on more intimate terms with the family, he may come
nearer, and make his presence known by coughing; then he sits down,
selecting generally some little knoll from which he can be readily
seen. In order not to embarrass his friends he does not even look at
the house, but remains sitting there gazing into vacancy, his back
or side turned toward the homestead. Should the host be absent the
visitor may thus sit for a couple of hours; then he will rise and go
slowly away again. But under no circumstances will he enter the home,
unless formally invited, "because," he says, "only the dogs enter
houses uninvited." Never will the lady of the house commit such a
gross breach of etiquette as to go out and inform him of her husband's
absence, to save the caller the trouble of waiting, nor will she if
alone at home, make any statements as to that gentleman's whereabouts.
The Tarahumare never does anything without due deliberation; therefore
he may, for quarter of an our, discuss with his wife the possible
purport of the visit, before he goes out to see the man. They peep
through the cracks in the wall at him, and if they happen to be
eating or doing anything, they may keep the visitor waiting for half
an hour. Finally the host shakes out the blanket on which he has been
sitting, throws it around himself, and, casting a rapid glance to the
right and left as he passes through the door, goes to take a seat a few
yards distant from the caller. After some meditation on either side,
the conversation, as in more civilised society, opens with remarks
about the weather and the prospects for rain. When this subject is
exhausted, and the host's curiosity as to where the man came from,
what he is doing, and where he is going to, is satisfied, the former
may go back to the house and fetch some pinole and meat for the
traveller. The object of the visit not infrequently is an invitation
to take part in some game or foot-race; and as the men are sure to
remain undisturbed, they generally reach some understanding. A friend
of the family is, of course, finally invited to enter the house, and
the customary salutation is "Assaga!" ("Sit down!") In this connection
it may be noted that the Tarahumares in conversation look sidewise,
or even turn their backs toward the person they speak to.
After having eaten, the guest will carefully return every vessel in
which food was given to him, and when he rises he hands back the skin
on which he was seated. Should occasion require, the host will say:
"It is getting late, and you cannot return to your home to-night. Where
are you going to sleep? There is a good cave over yonder." With this
he may indicate where the visitor may remain over night. He will also
tell him where he may find wood for the fire, and he will bring him
food; but not unless the weather is very tempestuous will he invite
an outsider to sleep in the house.
When at home the Tarahumare keeps regular hours, rising and retiring
with the sun. Having slept on a skin on the floor, rolled up in his
blanket, without anything for a pillow except perhaps a stone or a
chunk of wood, he sits for a while near the fire, which is kept up
most of the year at night in the house or cave. His wife brings him
his breakfast of pinole. While combing out his long black hair with a
pine cone, he may ask the boys and girls whether they have attended
to the traps he told them to set on the night before. They run out
and soon they come in with some mice. "Here they are," they say,
"but they are very poor!" The father, however, may consider them fat
and nice, and the mother affably adds: "Of course, they are fat,
since they have eaten so much corn." They go about to roast them,
while the husband looks on. Generally the Tarahumares have a number
of traps set to catch mice. They are so fond of this "game" that,
when civilised, they have been known to ask permission from Mexican
acquaintances to go through their houses to hunt for them. The mice
are skinned and threaded on a thin stick, which is stuck through
their necks and serves as a spit.
Having enjoyed the dainty morsel thus set before him, the husband
now tells his wife what he is going to do to-day. He will run deer or
hunt squirrels, and accordingly takes his bow and arrows or his axe
with him. In spring-time he may go to the field. The wife also tells
of her plans for the day. The work that engages most of the time of
the housewives in Mexico is the grinding of the corn, on the metate,
for corn-cakes; and if she has any time to spare she boils beans,
looks for herbs, or works on her weaving-frame; but she never sits
about idle. She looks as conscientiously after her duties as any white
woman; she has always something to do, and many things to take care
of in her small way.
About sunset the husband returns, bringing a squirrel or rabbit,
which he carries concealed in his blanket, that no neighbour may
see it and expect an invitation to help to eat it. As he goes and
comes he never salutes his wife or children. He enters in silence
and takes his seat near the fire. The animal he caught he throws
toward her where she is kneeling before the metate, so that it
falls on her skirt. She ejaculates "Sssssssssss!" in approval and
admiration, and, picking it up, praises its good points extravagantly:
"What a big mouth! What large claws!" etc. He tells her how hard he
worked to get that squirrel, how it had run up the tree, and he had
to cut down that tree, till finally the dog caught it. "The dog is
beginning to be very good at hunting," he says. "And now I am very
tired." She spreads before him a generous supper of beans, herbs,
and maize porridge, which she has ready for him. And while he eats
she goes industriously to work removing the fur from the game, but
leaving on the skin, not only because it keeps the meat together
while it is boiling, but mainly because she thinks there is a good
deal of nourishment in it, which it would be a shame to waste.
When the man is at home, and neither sleeping nor eating, he may sit
down and make a bow or some arrows; or, stretched out on his back,
he may resort to his favourite amusement, playing his home-made
violin. Like all Indians of Mexico, the Tarahumares are fond of
music and have a good ear for it. When the Spaniards first came,
they found no musical instruments among the Tarahumares except the
short reed flute, so common to many Mexican tribes, the shaman's
rattle, and the rasping stick. But they soon introduced the violin
and even the guitar, and throughout Mexico the Indians now make these
instruments themselves, using pine wood and other indigenous material
in their construction, sometimes with remarkable skill and ingenuity,
and for glue the juice of a certain lily root. Having no idea of the
value of money, they frequently sell a tolerably good instrument for
fifty or even twenty-five cents.
Toward evening the Tarahumare father of a family gets more talkative
and chats with his wife, and then
"The day is done, and the darkness
Drops from the wings of night
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight."
And as the shadows deepen, he wraps himself closer in his blanket,
and before he knows it childlike slumber enfolds him. Frequently he
grows hungry in the middle of the night, and reaches out for food,
as well as for his violin, devoting himself to music for half an hour,
before he drops off to sleep again.
There are more women in the tribe than men, and they are looked upon
as of less importance. There is a saying among the people that one
man is as good as five women. Her prayers are not of as much value as
his, because she prays only to the moon, and her deity is not as big
as his, the sun. For this reason her place is behind the man in all
dances. Yet she occupies a comparatively high position in the family,
and no bargain is ever concluded until the husband has consulted his
wife in the matter. I am bound to say, however, that on such occasions
every member of the household, even the youngest and smallest child,
is asked to give an opinion, and, if one of the little tots objects,
the sale will not be closed. In such cases there is nothing for the
customer to do but to try to influence the young business man who
raised the objection, not directly, but through his parents. This
accounts for a good deal of the frightful loss of time incurred
in dealing with these Indians. The purchase of a sheep may require
two days, and the negotiations concerning an ox may extend over an
entire week.
That a woman of intelligence and character is appreciated even among
barbarians is proven by the fact that once a woman was made gobernador,
or chief, because "she knew more than men." She did not assume the
title, but she is said to have ruled with more wisdom and justice
than many of her predecessors and successors.
Husband and wife never show their affection in public except when
drunk. Parents kiss their little ones on the mouth and on the stomach,
and the youngsters express their love for each other in the same
way. On some occasions I have seen lovers sitting closely together, she
holding on to his forefinger. The women are of a jealous disposition.
The Tarahumare standard of beauty is not in accordance with the classic
ideal as we perceive it, nor is it altogether in conformity with modern
views on the subject. Large, fat thighs are the first requisite, and
a good-looking person is called "a beautiful thigh." Erect carriage is
another essential to beauty. In the face, the eyes attract more notice
than any other feature, and the most admired ones are "the eyes like
those of a mouse." This is the highest praise that can be bestowed
upon anyone's personal appearance. They all like straight hair, and
consider hair very ugly when it has a curl at the end. I once asked
a bright young Tarahumare how the man must look who is most admired
by women, whether his mouth and nose should be large or small, etc.,
and he replied, "They must be similar to mine!" Aside from good looks,
the women like best men who work well, just as in civilised countries
a woman may look out for a good _parti_.
But wealth does not make the possessor more attractive to the girls. In
Nararachic was an elderly man who owned forty head of cattle and
eighteen horses. When he became a widower, he had to live with an
elderly woman of bad reputation, as he could not get another woman
to marry him.
The young women enjoy absolute liberty, except as regards Mexicans,
against whom they are always warned. They are told that they become
sick from contact with such men. Never are they forced to contract what
would turn out to be a loveless marriage. A beautiful Indian girl was
much sought for by a Mexican. He spoke the Tarahumare language very
well, and offered to give her a good house and fine clothes and a
whole handful of silver dollars. Her brother, who was half civilised,
and therefore more corrupt than the ordinary Indian, also tried to
persuade her to accept the rich suitor. But she tossed up her head
and exclaimed, "Tshine awlama gatsha negale" which, freely translated,
means: "I do not like that fellow; love goes where it chooses."
The custom of the country requires the girl to do all the courting. She
is just as bashful as the young swain whom she wishes to fascinate,
but she has to take the initiative in love affairs. The young people
meet only at the feasts, and after she hag gotten mildly under the
influence of the native beer that is liberally consumed by all, she
tries to attract his attention by dancing before him in a clumsy
way up and down on the same spot. But so bashful is she that she
persistently keeps her back turned toward him. She may also sit down
near him and pull his blanket and sing to him in a gentle low voice
a simple love-song:
Se-(se)-ma-te re-hoy i-ru Se-(se)-ma-te re-hoy i-va
Beau-ti-ful man to be sure, Beau-ti-ful man to be sure.
If occasion requires, the parents of the girl may say to the parents
of the boy, "Our daughter wants to marry your son." Then they
send the girl to the boy's home, that the young people may become
acquainted. For two or three days, perhaps, they do not speak to
each other, but finally she playfully begins to throw pebbles at
him. If he does not return them, she understands that he does not
care for her. If he throws them back at her, she knows that she
has won him. She lets her blanket drop and runs off into the woods,
and he is not long in following her.
Sometimes the boy, when he likes a girl very much, may make the
first advances, but even then he has to wait until she throws the
first pebbles and drops the blanket, for, among the Indians, it is
the woman who seeks the man, and the fair who deserve the brave.
Next day they come home together, and after this they do not hide
themselves any more. The parents of the girl are advised to make
tesvino, as the young couple should not be separated any more, and
word is sent out to a few friends and relatives to come to the wedding.
The guests arrive in the afternoon and most of the people remain
outside of the house during the ceremony, but the bridegroom and his
parents go inside, where they seat themselves on skins spread out on
the floor. The mother of the girl has placed a large skin next to a
big jar of tesvino, and on this the father of the boy sits down. As
soon as he has taken his place, the host offers him three gourds
full of the drink and requests him to accept the office of honour,
the distribution of tesvino to all present, and he immediately enters
upon his duties. He first gives four gourds full to the mother of the
bride, as the mistress of the tesvino, and three gourds full to the
host, the master; then four gourds full to his own wife. The bridal
couple have been called in and told to sit down side by side, and
all the rest of the people come in and stand around the pair. There
is no special place assigned to anyone; but the father of the boy
stands up and his mother sits down, while the girl's father sits
down and her mother stands up. The boy's father now makes a speech,
telling the bridal couple that they must remain together, and never
separate nor fight. He specially tells the young man that he has to
kill deer and take care always to bring some animal home to his wife,
even if it be only a chipmunk or a mouse. He also has to plough and
to sow corn and to raise crops, that he and she may always have enough
to eat and not go hungry.
The father of the girl next takes the word, addressing himself mostly
to the bride. Now that she is united to the man of her choice, she
should always comply with her wifely duties. She must make blankets
for her husband, and be industrious, make tesvino and iskiate,
pinole, tortillas, gather herbs, etc., that her husband may always
have something to eat and not go hungry. He names all the herbs
singly. She must also help him, in her way, with the ploughing and
sowing, so that he may raise plenty of corn to make tesvino that
others may help him. She never must be lazy.
The father of the girl now gives tesvino to his future son-in-law,
whose father in turn gives some to the bride. The bridal couple are
covered with blankets, and in some cases his and her right hands
are tied together. There is no other marriage ceremony. But all the
guests partake of the liberally flowing bowl, and the festivities
end in general and complete intoxication.
About two weeks later, the parents of the bridegroom make a feast
exactly the same in character, but now the father of the girl
occupies the seat of honour next to the big tesvino jar and acts as
distributer. He also makes the first speech. The bridegroom gives
to his brother-in-law a flint for striking fire, and six arrows. No
matter how many brothers the bride has, they all get this present. It
is considered an exchange for the girl. The shamans avail themselves
of _jus primae noctis_.
After the marriage the bridal couple separate, each staying in the old
home for several weeks, after which the young man comes to live with
his father-in-law for half a year or a year, until he has had time to
make a house for himself. In the meantime the young couple are fed,
but they receive nothing else. The young man has his own animals, which
he got when he was small, and now his father gives him a piece of land.
Among the Christian Tarahumares the fiscal is advised of any
contemplated marriage. This functionary has charge of the church
edifice and the teaching of the children. It is his duty to take the
young couples to the padre to be married. But the padre is far away and
comes around only once a year, and sometimes even less frequently,
and then the fiscal, so to say, rounds up all the matrimonially
inclined. On account of their innate ardour to comply with all
religious requirements the Tarahumares are willing to go through the
ceremony, though to them it has no significance beyond the payment of
one dollar. On this account they do not mind waiting for the padre's
blessing for a couple of years, until they get ready to part with
the dollar, thereby generally saving an extra trip for baptising.
As the padre's visits are so few and far between, the fiscal even
considers it incumbent upon himself to make up matches on his own
account, telling the people that when the padre comes they should
be ready to get married. But so independent are the Tarahumare girls
that it has happened that when the padre asks the portentous question,
they cry, "Kaeke, kaeke" ("No, no"), and run away.
In my time there was a padre (now removed) who emulated the example
of the shamans and was frequently in his cups. On one occasion he
was unable to perform the marriage ceremonies, and the sacristan
accompanying him had to take his place. All this man knew about the
rite was to ask the man and the woman whether they would have each
other. On hearing their "Yes" he would say, "Where is the dollar?" and
pocketing it send the couple off with, "Now you are all right."
When an addition is expected in the family the chief preparation of
the woman is to get ready a quantity of beer, calling on her friends
to help her, while the husband goes to look for the shaman. When
she feels her time is approaching, she retires to some lonely spot,
as she is too bashful to bear her child while others are about. She
tightens her girdle around her waist, and bears her child sitting up,
holding on to something above her, like the branch of a tree. After
the little stranger has arrived the husband may bring her a jar with
warm water from which she occasionally drinks. He also digs a hole,
in which, after he has gone, she buries the placenta, placing stones
on top of the place on account of the dogs. The umbilical cord is
cut with a sharp reed or a sharp-edged piece of obsidian, but never
with a knife, for in that case the child would become a murderer
and could never be a shaman. I once asked a Tarahumare where he was
born, expecting him to give me the name of some ranch; I was rather
amused when he pointed to a big stone a little farther on along the
slope. That was his birthplace.
The mother may lie down for that day, but the following morning she
works as usual, as if nothing had been the matter with her. The husband
does not work for three days, because he thinks his axe would break,
or the horns of his ox would fall off, or he would break a leg. The
third day he takes a bath.
When the baby is three days old the shaman comes to cure it. A big
fire is made of corn-cobs, the little one is placed on a blanket, and
with the father's assistance the shaman carries it, if it is a boy,
three times through the smoke to the four cardinal points, making
the ceremonial circuit and finally raising it upward. This is done
that the child may grow well and be successful in life, that is, in
raising corn. Then the shaman takes a burning corn-cob from the fire
and with the charred end makes three parallel lines lengthwise over
the child's head and three across them. He also sprinkles tesvino
on the head and other vital parts of the body to make them strong,
and cures the umbilical cord. He may, too, anoint the child with the
fat of the rattlesnake mixed with herbs, and leave it in the sun,
that the light may enter its heart. For his services the shaman gets
a little maize, beans, salt, etc.
On the fourth day the mother goes down to the river to bathe, and
while bathing leaves the little one naked, exposed to the sun for
at least an hour, in spite of all its wailings, that Father Sun may
see and know his new child. The baby is not washed until it is a year
old. Then it is cured again, by the shaman, who on various occasions
throughout its life repeats his curing, that the child may grow well
and that no sickness or bad accidents may befall it. To protect
it still further, pieces of palo hediondo or the chuchupate root,
the strong smell of which is supposed to avail against disease,
are wrapped in a piece of cloth and tied around the child's neck.
The mother nurses the child until it is three years old. In some
instances she begins to give it once in a while a little pinole when
it is only six months old. When two years of age a child begins to
walk and to talk. Sometimes when the mother is busy, for instance
at the metate, and will not stop to nurse him, the little rascal may
take a stick and in his way try to beat her.
The Tarahumare woman is a faithful mother, and takes good care of her
children. She generally has from six to eight, often more. While small
the children play with primitive dolls. They dress up corn-cobs with
scraps of textiles and put them upright in the sand, saying that they
are matachines and drunken women. They also play, like other children,
with beans and acorns, or with young chickens with their legs tied
together. Of course the youngsters maltreat these. Sometimes they
play, too, with stuffed squirrels, but there are no special children's
games. The father makes bows and arrows for the boys, and instructs
them in hunting and agricultural work. As the girls grow up, the mother
teaches them how to spin yarn and weave blankets, "for," she tells
them, "otherwise they will become men." She also warns them not to
have children too rapidly in succession, for there is no one to carry
them for her. Women cannot eat the tenderloin until they are very old,
because if they did they could have no children. For the same reason
they must not eat the pancreas. The women who fear lest they may have
difficulty in giving birth to a child make soup of an opossum and eat
it. Girls must not touch deer antlers, or their breasts would fall off.
A characteristic custom is that the children, no matter how old they
get, and even after they are married and have families of their own,
never help themselves to anything in the parents' house. The mother has
to give all the food, etc., and she gives as long as she has anything.
Parents never inflict corporal punishment upon the young people. If
a boy does not behave himself, he gets scolded, and his father's
friends may also remonstrate with him at a feast. Otherwise, the
children grow up entirely independent, and if angry a boy may even
strike his father. A girl will never go so far, but when scolded will
pout and weep and complain that she is unjustly treated. How different
is this from the way in which, for instance, Chinese children treat
their parents! It does not favour much the theory that the American
Indians originally came from Asia.