THE PEOPLE AND THEIR CHARACTERISTICS
Argentina is made up of a complex population. An Argentinian is a person
born in the country, just as we class our own population. Perhaps nearly
one-half of the inhabitants are foreign born, and most of them from the
Latin countries. A large proportion of the remainder do not have to
go back more than one or two generations until a European ancestor is
discovered. The Latin races soon become mixed and cannot very easily
be traced after a generation or two. The English and German settlers
continue distinct and apart. They always remain foreign. The English
traits in those who have lived there a generation or two are almost as
marked as in those who have recently come over from the tight little
island. The later Spanish and Italian immigrants are the workers and do
most of the common labour. Wherever newer methods have been introduced
the influences are distinctly English. The railways are all owned and
operated by the English, and these have given the British touch to all
the later developments.
There is an aristocracy in Argentina as in all countries. The real
aristocrat here, as in other Spanish countries, is the pure-blooded
Castilian, who follows unfalteringly the traditions of his native land,
and who prides himself more upon the accomplishments of the past than
upon anything his family or race have done in modern times. The greater
aristocracy, however, is not an aristocracy of the old Spanish régime,
such as one will find in Chile or Peru, but a more recent upper ten based
upon wealth. The more picturesque attributes of a Spanish civilization
have almost disappeared beneath the spirit of modernism in Buenos Aires.
The development of social grades all over the republic has been rapid and
has kept pace with the opening up of new lands. It is possible even now
to watch this development, which is still in process of evolution in the
newer communities. A material prosperity has sometimes overwhelmed the
other virtues and inherited characteristics. Any way to make money is the
aim of the Argentinian, and an aristocracy of money has grown up.
The Argentine magnate is not a man who has attained his prominence
after a bitter and strenuous commercial struggle, which has developed
a hard-headed, practical side, but his wealth has come through the
automatic growth in the value of his expansive leagues of rich _campo_.
His income has waxed greater each year through no effort of his own. So
one will find the rich _estanciero_, intoxicated with his own wealth,
disporting himself in the national capital on as lavish a scale as one
will see in New York or London. These wealthy land aristocrats not only
spend their money, but they are eternally bent on devising new ways for
divesting themselves of the surplus pesos. It is spent lavishly and not
always well, for the development of the finer tastes has not kept pace
with the increase of material wealth.
Some of these moneyed _estancieros_ are descended from honest farmers,
whose fathers had no intimation of the wealth that would fall to their
descendants. They lived the simplest of existences, and looked upon their
broad acres only as a source of food and shelter. Then the land began
to rise with almost incredible rapidity. A league that would have been
wagered on a Camp race soon represented a small fortune. The approach
of the railroad to his _estancia_ showed the son that fortune was in
his hands and he longed for excitement. A palace in Buenos Aires was
added to his possessions, he joined the famous Jockey Club and became a
devotee of sport—following the odds on horses even more closely than he
did the price of wheat or cattle. He now visits Europe frequently and has
added a sort of cosmopolitan veneer to himself, and may possibly have
learned to speak two or three languages. Thus it is that this hidalgo
has added up-to-date and European customs and habits to his inherited
traits, of which perhaps the vices have been imbibed fully as generously
as the virtues and graces. So also it is that his life passes along in
smooth and easy channels, with little to worry him except the problem of
amusement and sufficient excitement.
[Illustration: A GROUP OF PEONS]
There is no doubt that the Argentinian is ambitious. We may laugh at some
of his impractical ideas, or the seeming stupidity of some of the more
ignorant ones, but the fact remains that each one is endeavouring to get
ahead. The Porteño is aiming to make Buenos Aires the finest city in the
world, the state governments vie with each other in prodigality, and
the ranchman is trying to develop the very best breeds of stock on his
_estancia_. They want the best modern appliances and luxuries, and even
the ladies must have the very latest Parisian designed hats and gowns.
The workmen join labour organizations and they are as free to strike
as in any other country in the world; in every way they are breaking
away from the old traditions and trying to enter into the spirit of the
modern, be it for good or ill. The same trend is observable whether the
person is the descendant of one of the old families, or is one of the
recent importations from Spain or Italy. This modernizing spirit seems
to be in the air and is as contagious as the most virulent form of fever
or plague. All differences of social station fade away before this one
vital force which pervades both Camp and city. It is almost as marked as
in any part of the United States and cannot be overlooked by the most
unobservant traveller.
A general wastefulness characterizes all classes, both urban and rural.
In many cases this is probably due to ignorance. The very bountifulness
of nature has no doubt accentuated a natural disinclination to attend to
detail and small economies. If conservation would be studied much more
profit could be realized by all. On the _estancias_ this wastefulness
is noted in the methods of taking care of the crops and vast herds of
stock. In the city one will see it in the administration of municipal
governments in the various departments. In private life one will discern
it everywhere, and even the common labourer shows the same traits of
improvidence and lack of thriftiness so characteristic of the German or
French peasant, for example.
The railroads are wasteful oftentimes and are unprepared to handle the
immense crops produced by a bountiful nature, so that thousands of tons
of grain have been lost through sheer inability to get them to market,
and the _estanciero_ was unable to take care of his grain because he had
no elevators or granaries to hold his crop. Thousands of cattle have been
lost in a dry season because the owner trusted wholly to nature and had
no food to keep them from starvation when the pasture failed. But then
Argentina is not alone in these traits, and it is perhaps easier to find
fault or give advice than to do the things ourselves if we were placed in
the same position.
Like all Latin people, the Argentinian loves politics. The opera bouffe
style of government, which can still be found in Central America, has
disappeared, so that the melodramatic element no longer exists. With each
year the people grow less inclined to indulge in revolution simply as a
pastime. The risks of the revolutionists too are greater in a nation of
nearly seven million people than formerly, when there were not one-fourth
that number, and a country in which prosperity and education have made
great strides. Furthermore, there is the feeling on the part of the
Argentinians that their country is on its way to take its place as one
of the great nations of the earth, and this idea has undoubtedly sobered
them somewhat. There are, no doubt, many, even to-day, who enter politics
with no other purpose than to enrich themselves. Their methods, however,
are far more subtle than the revolutionists of old, and they hedge
themselves about with an air of apparent honesty and patriotism that is
difficult to penetrate. They have had good examples of genuine patriots
in the not distant past, which has no doubt aided in clarifying the
political atmosphere. It is in the question of government contracts where
the test of honour comes. If the tales that are told are to be believed,
then rich pickings often fall to officials. In some cases this has been
done openly and yet caused little comment, because such a result seemed
to be but natural and expected as a matter of course.
Argentina is a country that is purely pastoral and agricultural, for the
proportion of those engaged in manufacturing is numerically very small.
And yet one city contains nearly one-fifth of the total population.
When you include the other cities, such as Rosario, Tucuman, Mendoza,
etc., the proportion of city dwellers is still greater. The cities of
Argentina have outgrown the rest of the country. With people of an
excitable nature, such as the Latins are, it may bode serious trouble
in the future. Strikes have become very common, and lawlessness in
connection with them is very easy to stir up. Just before my visit the
chief of police was killed in one of those disturbances. The method of
the government in dealing with these exigencies is sensible but drastic.
A state of siege and martial law is declared, and every suspicious
character is deported as an undesirable. Following the killing of the
chief of police, several hundred Italians and Spaniards were deported.
It was only after several weeks of martial law that the ban was lifted
and life moved along as before. Many of the Italians are, no doubt,
anarchistic in their tendencies, and sometimes it might be wondered that
disturbances are not more frequent and more general than they actually
are. The police of the city usually show themselves competent to cope
with the situation.
Notwithstanding the cosmopolitan character of the population, the
republic is governed solely by the real Argentinians. No foreigner is
permitted to sit in Congress or take any hand in the legislation of the
country. The character of elections has undoubtedly progressed, but they
are still far from being perfect or free from criticism. It is very
easy to tell beforehand who will be elected by observing the forces and
influences behind the various candidates. How it is accomplished might
be difficult to explain, but it is done, and the man with the proper
support will almost invariably win out in some way. Absolute freedom of
expression is allowed the individual and press; one may listen to or read
political addresses full of flowery eloquence and fire, or hear the most
bitter denunciation, with no police interference whatever. The government
does not worry itself about such trifles, which are merely abstract
questions and do no one harm. The chances are that if the opponents of
the government are allowed to work off their pent-up emotions in this
way, their opposition on election day will not be very active. Hence they
always treat the “not-ins” with a sort of good-natured forbearance that
would be irritating to a North American.
There are perhaps fifty thousand or more persons in Argentina who might
be classed as British. It would be difficult to find a community where a
few of these Anglo-Saxons do not dwell. Of this number a large proportion
are of Hibernian extraction. As a rule they may easily be spotted. In
Buenos Aires and Rosario this colony remains entirely distinct and
mingles very little in social relations with the natives. They are
engaged in commerce and the other business enterprises. The Britisher is
self-satisfied and the Argentinian would call him boorish, although he
is welcomed, as is any one who will contribute to the development and
material progress of the country. In the Camp it is sometimes different.
There one will find former citizens of the British Isles who have almost
forgotten their native tongue. Their children will speak Spanish in
preference to English, and they have imbibed many of the characteristics
of the Spaniards. If this British _estanciero_ speaks English his
conversation will be interspersed with Spanish phrases. The Camp seems to
have a fascination for him, and he will prefer the blue and white banner
of his adopted land to the British Jack. The rich land of Argentina,
which can produce such abundant crops, has wielded a spell over him. This
process of welding and consolidation has, in numerous instances, been at
work for several generations.
The Englishman is a born sportsman. He loves horseflesh and all games,
and has initiated the Argentinian into the mysteries of many. Football
is now played all over the republic by thousands of the darker-hued
Argentinians, side by side with the fair-haired Anglo-Saxon. Football has
to all intents and purposes become the national game of Argentina. It is
really astonishing what a hold this game has upon the people. The love of
sport in the Camp has no doubt had an influence in leading to a closer
understanding and better feeling between the two races in the rural
districts; it has been a good influence and the result has been for the
best interest of the nation. If the two races are to live side by side it
is well for a good fellowship to exist between them.
The seal of Spain is upon everything that she has touched. The Spaniard
has left his religion, language, and social creed all over the New World
south of the Rio Grande, and his mark can be traced upon face, laws and
landscape. Wherever he appeared the Spaniard has written his racial
autograph in a hand that neither time nor political change has sufficed
to efface. The Anglo-Saxon has never succeeded in accomplishing the
same results except by colonization. One who is proficient can detect
from what part the Spanish-American woman comes, for each national face
has an individuality. The Mexicana, the Chilena, the Uruguayana and
the Argentina all differ—and yet there is a kinship that can easily
be traced. The olive-brown tint is there, but in different shades.
The perfect _morena_ (Spanish-Moorish) is a rarity, but it is as near
perfection as complexion can be—so fine, so soft and so richly warmed.
This type can frequently be found in the Argentina.
[Illustration: ONE OF ARGENTINA’S DAUGHTERS]
Outside of Buenos Aires the old conservatism concerning the position
of women still prevails. It must be admitted that there is something
attractive about their life. The big roomy windows, and the balconies
which jut out over the street on each floor, and the women seem made for
each other. The balconies were first designed for the wives and daughters
of the Spaniards to look out upon the street, since they were not allowed
to go out freely. I know of no sight prettier or more enchanting than
to see these balconies filled with women and children on the occasion
of a carnival or other festive occasion. Two, three or four tiers of
balconies, one above another, will be crowded with women all in white,
and it is a sight upon which to feast the eyes. Then a family group
in one of the big windows, with the young ladies seated on the window
itself, forms a picture that will linger in the memory.
The women of Argentina are the antithesis of English or American women
in many ways. The masculine type is very rare, for the restrictions and
customs rather accentuate the purely feminine traits. In youth they are
beautiful and none can help but admire both face and figure. They can
express in the flash of an eye what an English girl could not say in a
quarter of an hour. In addition to the attractiveness granted her by
nature the Argentina is an adept at all the arts of the toilet, and is
generally familiar with rouge, the pencil and the powder puff; in these
she is a connoisseur, and does not hesitate to apply her knowledge. In
many the Spanish and Italian types have been moulded together and the
beauty has probably been accentuated. As a rule her carriage is graceful,
but her voice—that is the one disappointing quality. The voice is
generally rather shrill, and, when excited, very unpleasant. Furthermore,
they always speak in a monotonous, high-keyed, sing-song manner.
[Illustration: BLACK-HAIRED CHILDREN OF ARGENTINA]
A lack of exercise and a love of big dinners and wines soon develops a
stoutness that does not add to the beauty of the Argentine woman. One
will seldom see a woman in any city walking if a conveyance can possibly
be had, and it is certainly a good thing for the cabbie. It is at a late
hour when they arise and they seldom don other than negligée before the
middle of the afternoon. In later years they become very stout—one might
cruelly say, fleshy. In Buenos Aires they are beginning to look upon a
little more freedom as their birthright. One will see young women on
the street or in the street car unaccompanied by the duenna or other
companion, which would be unknown in Spain. Whereas they used to look
upon English girls as fast, because of their freedom, now they are
longing to adopt the same freedom of action, and it seems to be coming by
degrees. The matron becomes very much domesticated and devotes herself
unstintingly to her children and their welfare. In this way many of the
youngsters are really spoiled. Their devotion to their children is,
however, to be greatly admired, and a great affection seems to exist for
the mother among all her children, both girls and boys.
“I should think that these mothers would get tired of black hair,” said
an American woman to me in Buenos Aires. And then it dawned upon me with
full force that all of these Latin-American children have black hair. It
had not seemed to me as monotonous or tiresome before, for there is an
individuality about each face, just as there is about that of children
the world over. It is true that the hair of these children is almost
uniformly of that hue, but I am very sure that the mothers find their
children no less interesting because Carmencita, Juanita, Consuela,
Maria, Juan, José, Santiago, Antonio and all their little brothers and
sisters have hair of the same shade. These children of Latin-America are
very numerous, for families are generally larger than they are in the
United States. It is nothing unusual to see the mother or both parents
get on board a train followed by six or eight children, all of whom are
of tender ages.
The Spaniard has the reputation of being cruel. He is so to his horse
or mule, he can view the cruelties of the bull-fight with enthusiasm,
but his voice softens in speaking to a child. In fact the children are
often petted and humoured too much, and the affection lavished upon them
becomes a passion. And yet these bewitching little people are never
unmindful of the simple courtesies of life. They learn the amenities of
speech almost from the cradle. Ask some little fellow in Spanish America
his name, and he will probably roll out a long name, such as Jesus
Antonio Martinez y Alcorta, “at the service of God and yourself.” Pass
some compliment on little Carmencita and see how quickly she will say,
“It is a compliment you pay me,” or “_mil gracias_,” a thousand thanks.
Offer her some little courtesy and she accepts “_con mucho gusto_,” with
much pleasure, to which you should reply “the pleasure will be mine.”
It is hardly safe to admire an ornament of a little mite of only eight
or ten years. She will instantly remove it and offer it to you with
the expression, “It is at the disposal of your worship.” The proper
“disposal” is to refuse the gift in nice polite terms. It is really
remarkable, and oftentimes touching, to observe these little courtesies
in the _niñas_ and _muchachas_. It even extends to their prayers, for
here is the Spanish form of bed-time prayer:—
“Jesus, Joseph, Mary,
Your little servant keep,
While, with your kind permission,
I lay me down to sleep.”
Most of these Argentine children are rather solemn-faced in the presence
of strangers. They are not quite so free to make up with some one unknown
to them as the average American child, and it is often rather difficult
to coax a smile. One can even casually pinch a little cheek without
provoking the smile so free with American children. It is not fear, for
they do not seem afraid, but there is a certain shyness which is very
noticeable. They will look up at you with their big, black eyes, but
the smile which should accompany it is not forthcoming. Especially is
this true of little girls, who thus early in life seem to realize the
narrowness of their lives.
It has always seemed to me sad to contemplate a girl’s life in these
Latin lands. No sooner has one crossed the Rio Grande into Mexico than
the restrictions upon a woman’s freedom become evident, and these same
customs extend clear to the “Land of Fire,” at the southernmost limits
of South America. Not only are the little girls held in a species of
bondage, but in later years they miss that care-free, happy period of
American girls in their early “teens,” when every one considers it
a privilege and pleasure to contribute to their enjoyment. They are
hemmed about by servants and _duennas_ during these years, and they then
suddenly emerge into young womanhood, almost before one realizes that
they are more than little girls. One year they are _niñas_ (which means
little girls), and a year or two later they are _señoritas_, or young
ladies. They have almost skipped that delightful age of being “just
girls,” which the Spaniards term _muchachas_.
If there is one feature about them that is especially beautiful it
is the eyes. Large, dark and radiant orbs are almost universal, and
especially is that true in childhood. They very early begin the use of
powder and paste, and oftentimes of rouge and the black pencil. It is a
shame, for youth does not need these artificial aids and the evil effects
are seen in the complexions of those of maturer years. This beauty of
youth is more evanescent than with American girls, and the girl of even
twenty has oftentimes begun to fade, and at thirty she is decidedly
matronly in appearance.
Love and religion are the only two things that a Spanish woman should
concern herself about, according to the theory of that land, and the same
sentiment permeates even the childish amusements. Love and lovers run
through all the childish rhymes of the children of Spanish-America. But
more frequently it is religion. To begin with, their very names all have
some religious significance. Mary is a very common name, but to it is
added one of the attributes of the Virgin, such as Mary of the Sorrows,
Tears, Annunciation, etc. Thus smiling little Dolores (sorrows), Lagrimas
(tears) and the other little Marys bear these sad names, but their
smiles come just as easy as if their names signified joys. Saints are
appealed to in many of their childish amusements. “Jesus” and “Mary Most
Pure” are common forms of exclamation for the tiniest of tots, and their
conversation is punctuated with these sacred terms in the most innocent
way imaginable. They are used just as American tots would say “oh, my,”
or “good gracious.”