ASUNCIÓN
Overeating, oversleeping, and overindulgence in liquid refreshments
(this applies to soft drinks as well as to others) constitute the
whole time of the stranger in Buenos Aires, who has nothing else to do,
than, seated at a table in front of one of the cafés on the Avenida de
Mayo, to study human nature, and watch the endless stream of humanity,
horses, cabs, and automobiles pass by. Tiring of this I thought of
going to Mar del Plata and from some good point of vantage gaze in
admiration at the attractions of that spa, and look with pleasure at
the latest Parisian and Bonaerense creations that bedecked and showed
off to advantage the well-molded female forms of the high aristocracy
as they pass in parade in front of the Hotel Bristol and the Casino.
Quite suddenly, and very unusual for this time of the year, for it
was late in February, a great climatic change took place and the
temperature which had been hovering around the 100° mark dropped into
the fifties. One gloomy morning, as I stood gazing from the balcony
of my room into the Avenida de Mayo, watching the boulevardiers being
hurried along by the strong wind, I decided that Mar del Plata would
be no place for me. My thoughts diverted to warmer climes, Paraguay
and Brazil. There is a Paraguayan store on the Avenida, a favorite
shopping place for ladies and curio seekers. It has displays of egrets,
feathers, stuffed birds, stuffed toads, crocodiles, iguanos, armadillo
shells, yerba maté leaves, native headdresses of parrot wings, and
beetles. But by far the most attractive of anything in the store is
the fine Paraguayan girl, about twenty years old, who waits on the
customers. I cannot call her beautiful, yet there is something so
hypnotically fascinating about her that, after I first saw her, I was
always returning to the store again to feast my eyes on her with the
pretense of making some trivial purchase. Whether it was her eyes,
her face, her voice, her figure or her natural complexion, or all
these attractions combined that charmed me, I am unable to say, and my
friends whom I called in to look at her all said that she exerted over
them the same spell. Every time I saw this girl I had the longing to
revisit Paraguay, and this, combined with the horrid weather, decided
me at once to visit the land where San Martin, Francia, and Francisco
Solano Lopez first saw the light of day.
I had been in Paraguay before, once when Asuncion was under martial
law, and although I now knew that I would see nothing new in visiting
the country, there are always some places that the traveler enjoys
seeing more than once. Upon my leaving there before, great was my
rejoicing when I saw the blue, white, and blue flag of Argentina
floating from the flagstaff over the custom-house at Corrientes, for I
knew that I was once more in a country of law and order. At that time
Paraguay was at the height of one of the many revolutions that have
continuously stained her history for the last forty-five years, and
Asuncion was like a tomb. Now since everything was tranquil I would
enjoy myself more.
It is now possible to travel from Buenos Aires to Asuncion without
changing cars on a through vestibuled train with sleeping cars and a
dining car. The time en route is but fifty-three hours, for the train
leaves Buenos Aires thrice weekly at 3 P.M., and arrives at Asuncion
two days afterwards at 8 P.M. Formerly Posadas was the terminus of the
trains from Buenos Aires, and the travelers were obliged to wait in
that stamping ground of Heidecker, Rohrsetzer, and Barthe anywhere from
two to five days in order to make connection with the Paraguay Central
Railroad, which ran at irregular intervals of time to Asuncion from
Villa Encarnacion, the Paraguayan river port about two miles across
the Alto Paraná River from Posadas. The through train is now taken on a
ferry-boat a short distance above Posadas and is steamed across to the
Paraguayan railway terminus at Pacu Cua.
Three hours after leaving the Chacarita Station at Buenos Aires, the
lonesome town of Zarate is reached, where the train is transferred
onto a car ferry that plies to Ibicui, a trip of nearly five hours
through the estuaries that form the delta of the Paraná River, past
marshes abounding in wild fowl who have their nests on the swampy
islands. Although this delta is but three hours from Buenos Aires, it
might as well be in the center of the continent as far as civilization
is concerned. The crossing of this delta is always made obnoxious on
account of the mosquitoes which abound here. In making this crossing
most of the passengers were in the dining car. Here one could observe
types. Most were Paraguayans of the upper classes returning home after
a week's visit in the Argentine metropolis. Although all had just
left Buenos Aires that name was but infrequently mentioned. In every
sentence of their conversation was heard the word "Asuncion," a name
which to the true Paraguayan means much more to them than does New York
to us, or Paris to the Frenchman. It is the focus of all Paraguayan
life, and although it would be but a mediocre city in this country, it
is the only one of size in Paraguay.
There are two distinct types of Paraguayans. The first type of men
are good sized, fairly stout, with round faces. Their eyebrows and
moustaches are straight and have the appearance of being penciled.
The noses of these people are Roman and their facial characteristics
are strong and sensual. This type is only met with among the very
highest social classes such as were the occupants of the dining car the
night we crossed the delta. One of these men has one of the largest
importing and general merchandise stores in Asuncion. His surname is
Angulo. The other type of Paraguayan, which comprises the masses,
and with whom one does not come into contact in a casual way, are
swarthy, flat-chested, and narrow-shouldered. They have large ears
and low foreheads, bushy eyebrows and thin noses. The middle class
is not native. It is composed of Spanish, German, Italian, and French
merchants. Mr. James Bryce in his book, _South America: Observations
and Impressions_, said in speaking of La Paz Bolivia: "It has probably
a larger aboriginal population than any other city in the New World,
although the percentage of Indians may be somewhat greater in Asuncion,
the capital of Paraguay." There are no Indians, and there is but little
mixed blood in Asuncion. The early settlers originally married with the
natives but the taint of miscegenation has long run out. The Asuncenos
are a white folk in every respect. Indians predominate in the Bolivian
capital and Bryce has never been in Asuncion.
During our evening meal on the dining car, a large beetle or bug, in
circumference the size of a tea cup, flew in through the open window
and made a terrific buzzing, the noise being equal to that of those
toys for children which one winds up and then lets go. It flew all over
the room and as its bite would undoubtedly be poisonous, it put all the
occupants of the car in a pandemonium as each one was trying to get out
of the way of it. It seemed to be in several different places at the
same time.
It was near midnight when we reached the Entre Rios shore. The
Entrerrieno landscape as far as Concordia is gently undulating, and
the soil which is sandy is given over to the pasturing of herds of
horses. There is not much grain grown and it is just as well, for
occasionally a dark cloud was seen approaching on the horizon, which,
when it broke, it was seen to be billions on billions of locusts on
their way to Uruguay. They flew into the train windows, into the food,
into the dining car, up one's trouser legs and coat sleeves. The noise
of their crunching was most disgusting as one trod upon them while they
littered the aisles of the cars. When seized, they expectorate a dark
brown fluid of a most nauseating odor. They fly into the streams and
wells, poisoning the water. Before arriving at Concordia, we crossed a
palmetto wilderness called, in this part of the country, a _palmar_.
Concordia, although not the capital, is the largest city of Entre
Rios. It has passed in population Paraná and now has 48,500 inhabitants
according to the latest estimate. It is the largest and liveliest town
in Argentina east of the Paraná River and is connected by a bridge over
the Uruguay River to Salto in Uruguay, which was only contemplated at
the time of my visit to these cities three years before. A street-car
line has been recently built and with its beef-canning establishments
and as the center of a wine producing region, Concordia has some
future, although the soil is sandy. This soil is much better adapted
for fruit than for grain. Oranges, apples, and olives are grown.
From Concordia the train ceases to run over the rails of the Entre Rios
Railroad but runs on the track of the Northeastern Argentine Railroad
as far as Posadas. After leaving Chajari, the Province of Corrientes
is entered and the landscape immediately changes. The country is still
undulating, but the soil is rich and even soggy in places from frequent
rains which are prevalent here. Everything is green and as far as
the eye can see, horses and cattle graze on the short grass. Water is
everywhere. There are puddles in the fields; there are small lakes;
numerous streams are crossed. The blue water of the Uruguay River is at
one's right beyond which, so near that you feel as if you could reach
out your hand and grab them, are the rolling green hills of Brazil.
Monte Caseros is reached at 4:20 P.M., a town of about eight thousand
inhabitants which contains the head offices of the Northeastern
Argentine Railroad. Paso de los Libres is reached at 7:18 P.M., whence
one can cross by ferry to Uruguayana, a Brazilian city in the State of
Rio Grande do Sul on which Francisco Solano Lopez, Paraguayan dictator,
tried to march his army in 1866. This town has its name handed down to
posterity by the _cepo uruguayana_, a barbaric method of torture which
originated there and which was frequently employed by Artigas, Rosas,
Lopez, and by other tyrants of a similar caliber. At bedtime the train
stops at Alvear, an important livestock town.
The peasants are now Indians. They live in adobe and cane huts in
the fields and are a peaceable, pastoral people. The men, both whites
and Indians, wear great baggy trousers, not unlike a couple of potato
sacks; these are tied to the leg above the shoe by a leather strap or
cord. From the discoloration of some of these trousers, I would not be
surprised to hear that they came over with the Spanish Conquistadores.
At daybreak of the second day, a train was ferried across the Alto
Paraná River to Pacu Cua. The only change that I noticed relative
to the train, and this was only a detail, was that the beer now
served was not the vile concoction brewed in Buenos Aires but a clear
amber liquid, purer in substance and fresh from the brewery of Villa
Encarnacion.
The Paraguayan landscape, until the half-way station of Borja is
reached, is a great semi-swampy plain with low hills and ridges covered
with tropical undergrowth, here known as "islands." By speaking of
this plain as swampy, I do not mean that it is under water, for such
is not the case; some seasons of the year it is quite dry and after
heavy rains only it is soggy. It is always passable, but is overgrown
with swamp grass. Countless herds of cattle pasture here; otherwise it
is uninhabitable. It contains many lakes and lagoons alive with wild
ducks, plover, curlew, herons, and other water fowl; wild geese fly
overhead, and when a clump of bushes is passed it is a common sight to
see the dark plumed, heavy limbed _ñandú_, the native ostrich, shading
itself under a bough on these wooded islets. Rising from the plain are
many huts, the estancias of the natives, half hidden by the foliage.
They are built of cane, plastered over, and with thatched roofs.
At Borja the junction for the village of Charara, the scenery changes.
The land now high and dry is intersected by numerous rivers. Mountains
appear to the north, and from here to Asuncion the country has a
well-settled character with numerous well-built villages. Civilization
in Paraguay started from Asuncion and followed the high ridge of land
eastward. The railroad built from Asuncion to Paraguari is one of the
oldest in South America. From Paraguari onward to Borja, civilization
preceded the railroad.
Villa Rica has 34,297 inhabitants according to a Paraguayan estimate.
Personally I think that this should be cut in two. It is a mile
northeast of the depot. At a station named Tebicuary is a sugar mill;
at Caballero are the railroad shops.
[Illustration: Scene from Railroad Station at Villa Rica]
Paraguari, the anti-bellum terminus of the Central Paraguay Railroad,
has, according to the census 11,328 inhabitants, although I am doubtful
if its population exceeds five thousand. It is situated in the extreme
eastern end of the Pirayu valley. This valley is bound by great
basaltic hills, some of which are mountains. Some are conical in shape,
but the majority are huge hills, whose tops are great stone outcrops.
The floor of the valley is high and a cool breeze is generally blowing.
The clover and grain, together with the mountains and the church
steeples, remind one of the scenery in Central Europe. Paraguari would
be the best situated city in Paraguay for its capital, both from a
natural location and from a military point of view. It was the camping
ground of the Argentine army under General Belgrano in 1811. Formerly
the Jesuits had a large stock ranch here.
The railroad, formerly owned by the government, but now controlled
by a Portuguese, had originally a six-foot gauge. The depots in the
villages from Paraguari to Asuncion are large and old-fashioned like
the pictures of those stations depicted in _Harper's Weekly_ Civil War
Scenes. Their mere duplicates to-day are to be seen in some European
cities such as those at Caen, Bar-le-Duc, Vicenza, the old station
at Strassburg, and in the American cities of Savannah and Macon.
The English company which had control of the railroad before this
Portuguese got it narrowed the gauge down to the regulation broad
gauge standard which is narrower than that of the Central Argentina and
several other lines in that republic.
The Republic of Paraguay is divided into twenty districts exclusive of
Asuncion. I am giving their names and population together with those
of their capitals and their population according to the estimate of
1917 in Héctor F. Decoud's _Geografia de la Republica del Paraguay,
Asuncion, 1917_. The population of these district capitals includes
the commune as well as the town, for with the exception of six cities,
Asuncion, Villa Rica, Caazapá, Villa Encarnacion, Villa Concepcion, and
Villa del Pilar there are no incorporated places in the republic:--
_Population_ _Capital_ _Population_
1st District 38,580 Villa Concepcion 15,600
2d District 46,425 Villa de San Pedro 9,926
3d District 43,195 Altos 9,715
4th District 34,764 Barrero Grande 10,643
5th District 35,182 San José 9,120
6th District 22,274 Ajos 7,283
7th District 34,297 Villa Rica 34,297
8th District 29,886 Hiaty 8,096
9th District 31,531 Caazapá 17,531
10th District 32,418 Yuti 11,953
11th District 26,978 Villa Encarnacion 13,496
12th District 37,965 San Ignacio 6,621
13th District 24,535 Ibicui 11,203
14th District 33,454 Quiindy 12,943
15th District 46,822 Paraguari 11,328
16th District 32,720 Itagoá 9,932
17th District 41,435 Luque 17,996
18th District 43,633 Itá 13,429
19th District 20,843 Villa Oliva 4,504
20th District 48,193 Villa del Pilar 7,229
Asuncion (est) 125,000
Total population, 828,130 inhabitants exclusive of about 50,000 wild
Indians living in the Gran Chaco.
The population of Asuncion has been estimated from 80,000 to 125,000
inhabitants. Personally I think that 100,000 would be more nearly
correct. Asuncion of 1918 is an entirely different city from Asuncion
in 1913, so great has been the visible improvement. This is largely
due to the enlightened ideas of the ex-dictator, Don Eduardo Schaerer,
a Swiss by birth, and who has infused European progressiveness into
the Paraguayan nation, whose population was rapidly being exterminated
by forty-five years of incessant revolutions on top of a five years'
war which cost Paraguay five hundred thousand lives. Schaerer has
showed that he is the man for the job. His rule has been benign but
firm. No sooner had he assumed the executive power than some of his
dissatisfied opponents tried the tricks on him that have been tried
on other dictators. This time they failed. The bomb that they touched
off underneath his residence failed to explode. The conspirators and
other suspects were immediately clapped into jail. January 1, 1915,
witnessed the close of two years' peace; it was too much of a good
thing for the fire-eating populace so they started another revolution.
This lasted but one day, the revolutionists losing over three hundred
men in a street fight in Asuncion. No more tricks have been tried on
Señor Schaerer.
In Asuncion there live numerous ex-presidents, ex-dictators, and
their political henchmen. No matter who is president of any country,
there are always a number of people who have grievances against the
administration, but I have only heard one person express anything
derogatory against Schaerer. This man, very prominent in Asuncion, and
the son of an ex-president, said that Schaerer owed his power as Chief
Executive to the Farquhar Syndicate whose money placed him there in
order for them to obtain in return valuable concessions. He said that
Schaerer was not president for his health, but was amassing a fortune
on the side. If this is true, it is nothing extraordinary, but as far
as I can glean, he is one of the most able presidents the country has
ever had. Results show it. Paraguay has a good constitution, but it
is never used. Changes have been constantly made to suit the whims of
each dictator. The presidential term is for three years. Schaerer's
term should have expired November 25, 1915, but he saw to it that there
would be no elections and two years after that date he retained his
office.
Since Señor Schaerer became president, there have been many changes
for the better in Asuncion. Formerly one had to go to the post office
to mail a letter; now letter-boxes are on nearly every corner. The
stranger is no longer subjected to surveillance, neither are his
valises searched in the hotels, nor are his letters opened and read
in the post office before transmission. The police have new crash
uniforms as well as many of the soldiers; previously their garments
were nondescript. It is necessary in Paraguay to maintain a semblance
of an army, for otherwise a dictator's life would hang on the thread of
Damocles. In order to pay this army, the present government was obliged
to sell their two gunboats, as the country is in a bad financial
condition. Its unit, the _peso fuerte_ is worth only 2½ cents American
currency. Five years ago it was worth 7 cents. This depreciation of
money is current all over the southern republics of South America with
the exception of Uruguay and Argentina. The Chilean peso was worth 23
cents in 1913; now it is worth 17 cents; the Brazilian milreis which
was then worth 33⅓ cents is worth now only 25 cents. In Brazil, and in
Chile although the currency depreciated, the price of articles dropped
in ratio, so that now in those countries the articles for sale can be
bought cheaper than formerly. Not so in Paraguay. When the peso fuerte
took a drop, the staple goods remained the same in price, so now a
person has to pay three pesos for what formerly cost him but one.
The electric lighting system of Asuncion is excellent, and it now
has the best trolley car service of any South American city. Every
principal street has car tracks and the tramcars run in the daytime
every five minutes. There is also a suburban system. Before Schaerer's
ascendancy, the city had mule cars, and a suburban steam road that ran
through the streets of the city, as in Debreczen, Hungary, the engine
of which puffed and emitted much smoke to the tune of squeaks and much
whistling. The lawn is kept up in front of the Capitol; new streets
have been opened and paved; statues have been unveiled in public
places, and there has been considerable building done.
[Illustration: Casa de Gobierno, or Capitol, Asuncion]
At first sight, Asuncion seems small. This is due to the grass that
grows between the stones of the street pavement, and to the fact
that cows graze in the plazas. On account of the richness of the
soil and the frequent rains it is impossible to keep vegetation down.
Unfortunately the plazas are not well kept up, and have gone to waste
and ruin. The city is compactly built, and covers considerable ground.
Like Belgrade, Servia, it is built on the side of a hill; like Belgrade
the stores are similar in window decorations, for their proprietors
specialize in displaying there articles that are favorite to the
Paraguayan mind as well as to the Servian: firearms and knives. There
are a few large buildings of modern construction, but what is most
observant are the colonnades of pillars and piers which support the
roofs. If a building has no colonnade along the street, it is sure
to have one around the patio. These colonnades are built thus (see
drawing).
[Illustration: Drawing Showing Construction of Colonnades on a
Paraguayan Building
a. Side wall; b. Pillar; c. Beam; d. Rafter; e. Stringer; f. Tile]
Pillars (fig. b) lower than the main wall (fig. a) are erected about
twelve feet or less in front of it. Across the tops of these pillars
and connecting them lies a beam (fig. c) from which rafters (fig. d)
at regular intervals slant up to the top of the wall of the building.
Horizontally across these rafters are laid stringers (fig. e) about a
foot apart. On top of these stringers are laid tiles (fig. f). In many
cases a thin layer of bricks is laid across the stringers, above which
are laid the tiles.
The worst feature of Asuncion is the paving of the streets. Black flint
stones of all sizes and shape are pounded tightly into the ground, and
their crevices are filled with the red earth of the country; they are
then treated with a coating of dirt. For the first three months this
pavement makes excellent driving. Then when the copious rains have
washed the dirt out, the stones settle or are loosened. An occasional
wagon-wheel knocks one out of place, and it is seldom replaced.
Incessant wear now makes ruts among the loosened stones, and in the
part of the road where there is not much traffic, vegetation grows
up, likewise forcing the stones up. The city is built on the side of
a hill sloping down to a lagoon which is separated from the Paraguay
River by a swamp. There are no conduits to carry away the rain water,
nor any ditches at the sides of the streets. Accordingly when it rains,
the water runs down the hill through the crevices between the paving
stones, and by the time it reaches the main street, Calle Palmas, the
side streets are turned into rivers. Eave troughs project horizontally
from the roofs over the streets, and the pedestrians have a choice
between two evils, walking in the flowing road or getting a dousing
from many hydrants.
With the exception of an English church in the suburbs and a German
Lutheran one in the city, both of which are so small that it seems
a shame to rank them under the title of church, there are only three
Houses of God in Asuncion, the cathedral, San Roque, and that of the
Church of the Encarnacion. The cathedral is an old, weather-beaten
affair facing the lagoon. San Roque is very old and faces a small plaza
of the same name behind the railway station. The most imposing building
in the city is the mammoth unfinished red brick pile which goes by the
name of the Church of the Encarnacion. If ever completed it will hold
a place among the world's great religious edifices. It is built on
the summit of the hill above the business section of the city and is
a landmark for many miles. It is reached by a double flight of steps
from the street. It was started during the reign of Francia, and the
money having long since given out, it is left but half completed. It is
built very solidly of tightly fitting red brick, and was intended to be
stuccoed over. A place is left for a tower each side of the main door
but they have never been commenced. The interior is plain, has been
given a fresh coat of plaster, and exudes the funereal tuberose smell
which is present in the casino at Monte Carlo to counteract the aroma
of corpses in the private morgue beneath the roulette room of that
establishment. As matters now stand the Church of the Encarnacion is a
hideous pile. The earthly remains of Dr. Gaspar Rodrigues de Francia,
Paraguay's most famous dictator, 1816-1840, were buried beneath
the vestibule of this church. The relatives of a person whom he had
executed had his bones dug up and desecrated them by flinging them into
the lagoon.
The plazas of Asuncion are a disgrace to the city. The Plaza Uruguaya
is the largest. It is planted with trees which are scattered at random.
A brick wall separates one side of it from the street. At the opposite
side is the large, graceful, colonnaded, battle-scarred railway station
with its illuminated clock tower. Pedestrians avoid traversing this
plaza after nightfall on account of footpads, many of whom would
commit murder for a paper peso. In the center of the plaza stand the
fragments of a marble statue shot to pieces in the revolution of 1904.
The Plaza de la Republica is on top of the high banks that skirt the
swampy ground that forms the shores of the lagoon. In some places it is
like a big field, especially that part of it in front of the artillery
barracks where it is the dumping ground of tin cans and refuse, and
is traversed by cattle paths. Near the House of Congress, a morbid
appearing porticoed edifice, it assumes the nature of a lawn which in
turn becomes a park in front of the ancient cathedral. In this plaza is
a cheap looking brick column named the Statue of Liberty. This monument
is surmounted by the image of San Blas, the patron saint of Paraguay,
in whose honor is celebrated on February 3d of each year an orgy that
beggars description. The base of the statue has the dates of different
events and revolutions painted in black letters on each of its four
faces. One of these dates tells the reader that Asuncion was founded
August 15, 1536. Another date tells of the ousting of the Spanish
domination. A third one informs us of the end of Francia's rule, while
the fourth bears testimony of the end of the reign of Lopez II.
[Illustration: Cabildo, or City Hall, Asuncion
This building was formerly the capitol]
One of the features that attracts the eyes of strangers is that there
is scarcely a building in the downtown district that is not pitted with
holes from a Gatling gun. In some sections whole walls have been shot
away by cannon balls. One of the beautiful trees common to Paraguay is
the dark fern-leaved _paraiso_ tree. There are a great many of these in
Asuncion, especially in the Plaza San Roque. Their foliage is thick and
gives delightful shade.
[Illustration: Plazoleta del Puerto, Asuncion]
One of the landmarks is the brick domed basilica on the Calle Palmas
called the Oratory of Lopez. The tyrant had it built for the receptacle
of the image of the Virgin of the Assumption (Asuncion). The Five
Years' War came on, and the oratory was never completed. It stands
to-day without a coat of stucco, with the carpenters' scantling around
its dome in the same condition now as when work suddenly ceased in
1865. It is owned by the government which is too poor to complete it;
its floor is used for the storage of municipal timber, brick, plaster,
and so forth, in charge of an ancient pensioner. Bats roost beneath its
dome, and the _amberé_ lizards crawl between the cracks of the bricks.
The oratory is surrounded by a wall over which projects a papaya tree
whose luscious golden fruit, shaped like a woman's teat, hangs in
pendulent clusters from its crown. This fruit is known in Paraguay as
_mamon_ which in the Guarani language means tit.
[Illustration: Calle Palmas, Asuncion
The dome in the background is that of the Oratory of Lopez]
The Asuncenos are early risers. The stores open at 6 A.M., and an hour
later is when the greatest crowds are to be found on the streets. The
stores close again at 11 A.M., and remain so till 2 P.M. They close
for the day at 7 P.M., and remain shut all day Sunday as well as on
the numerous holidays. During the three midday hours there is hardly a
person to be seen on the streets. Asuncion is never activity, excepting
during periods of revolution and at the annual yearly carnival; on
Sundays the liveliness of the streets can be compared with that of
the interior of a cemetery receiving vault. It is a trifle better than
Valparaiso, Chile, or Detroit, Michigan, on those days because at least
the cafés are open. The amusements of the city are paltry, the main one
being to sit evenings in one's shirt-sleeves on a chair placed on the
sidewalk in front of one's residence and by the illumination of the
electric lights watch the great _cucurús_ (large, disgusting looking
native toads) hop along the sidewalk in search of bugs. The other
amusements are two moving picture shows, one at Belvedere and the other
at the Café Bolsa.
[Illustration: Calle 15 de Agosto, Asuncion
This is a typical side street. The photograph was taken from the
balcony of the second story of the Hotel Hispano-Americano]
[Illustration: Street Scene, outskirts of Asuncion]
The climate of Asuncion is hot, terribly so, and damp. In heat it
compares very favorably with Panama. It is enervating and gives the
people amorous inclinations, especially when it blows from the north
and east. Many foreigners cannot become acclimated on account of
their inability in adapting themselves to a change in their mode of
life, and many of the wives of foreign diplomats have to return home
on account of the heat. Many people have red spots on their faces and
bodies caused by the heat. The hottest month is December. The rainfall
is heavy, and in Asuncion it is regular. March is the wettest month,
with April and October following in order. July is the driest month.
The average annual rainfall is 60.2 inches. (The average for Detroit
is 37 inches.) The driest year recorded in Asuncion was 1883 when 44.7
inches fell and the wettest year was 1878 with a precipitation of 101.9
inches. The rains are of short duration, but several are apt to occur
in one day. They are tropical and come straight down in sheets as if a
bucket of water had been turned upside down in the sky. These rains,
which are heaviest in summer, come up suddenly, and if there are any
clouds to be seen, it is advisable to carry an umbrella for it often
happens that these showers are local, there being a great downpour in
one part of the town and no rainfall at all in the other. After and
between rains, the sun comes out and steam arises from the earth. Many
a hacking cough heard from behind the shutters of a window and many
a gob of phlegm seen on the street sidewalk has its origin from this
climatic change. Hurricanes are unknown although water spouts are an
occasional phenomenon. The thunder makes terrific crashings, and at
each loud blast, the inhabitants make the sign of the cross. Even on
days when it does not rain, the sky is frequently overcast and the
atmosphere has the muggy feeling that is always present before a storm.
Perspiration runs from one in streams, not like the heavy sweat of
the hard-working laborer but a malodorous vitality sapping sweat
which takes the place of urine, making it necessary to change one's
under-clothing several times daily and to indulge in frequent shower
or sponge baths. For the omnipresent prickly heat, one should never
besmear himself with ointment nor take cold baths; these have the
tendency to augment it. One should bathe in warm or lukewarm water.
Clothes sent to the laundry come back damp and the bed linen seldom
dries. The houses are covered with a black mold which no amount of
frequent painting can stop coming back. During the summer if you draw
your finger across the wall of a church interior it will leave a streak
on the dampness. Regardless of the heat, for sanitation's sake, hot air
furnaces should be installed in the hotels and residences and a drying
out should be given them once a week.
With the rains come myriads of bugs and beetles. A black-winged
one, half as big as a saucer, whose aviation produced a noise
like a rip-saw, assailed me one night while at dinner in the Hotel
Hispano-Americano. It flew on my coat, and as I tried to brush it
away it implanted a sting on the back of my hand that made me wince in
agony. A lady, at a neighboring table, thought it was funny, for she
smiled at my discomfiture. God punished her, for presently a huge green
darning-needle shaped bug lighted on her neck and the sting it gave her
made her emit squawks that rivaled in rancorousness those of a carrion
crow. Bugs, beetles, reptiles, etc., the Paraguayans and Correntinos
call _bich_ and the large ones they call _gran bich_ without any
distinction as to their specie. A person cannot fondle with impunity
the cucurú as one can the common American garden toad. The cucurú will
bite you and then close its jaws. It has to be killed to pry its mouth
apart and its bite is said to be poisonous. The suburban sidewalks of
Asuncion teem with them evenings. The village of Areguá near Asuncion
is especially prolific in this variety of amphibian. It would not take
many of them to fill a bushel basket. I got about a dozen of these by
dropping my hat over them and chloroforming them. I had them stuffed
and brought them home as mantelpiece presents for my friends. Paraguay
is also abundant in ophidians; the nasty, poisonous _mboy-chumbé_ or
black, white, and red-ringed coral snakes being the most common. There
is _mboy-jhoby_, a green snake; the _ñuazo_, a dark brown snake; the
viper; the _ñandurié_, a small stick-like snake and the rattlesnake
are common venomous species, while the huge boa, or _curiyu_, and the
_mboy-yaguá_, or water snake, belong to the unpoisonous kind. The great
viper called _ñacaniná_ is semi-poisonous. Among the quelonians is
the _carumbé_ a Brobdingnagian snapping turtle and in the hydrosaurian
class is the crocodile, cayman alligator, and the iguana or _teyú_, the
latter being esteemed for its white meat not unlike spring chicken in
taste.
There are two species of jaguar called tiger by the natives, the
_aguareté_ and the _yaguareté-popé_. The word jaguar is derived from
the Guarani _yaguareté_. There are several kinds of wild-cat, misnamed
by the natives "lions," plenty of tapirs or _mborevi_, ant-eaters, wild
pigs, armadillos, deer, monkeys, besides many species of phlebotomists
such as the vampire-bat and the common belfry-bat. The trees are
alive with owls, macaws, parrots, toucans, zorzals, and wild-pigeons,
while in the swamps and clearings are found egrets, martinets, sarias,
cassowaries, flamingoes, herons, and ibises.
Asuncion has several fair hotels; the best in my estimation being the
Hotel Hispano-Americano, the property of the firm of Rius & Jorba
which is rented to the present proprietors, the Grau Brothers, two
Spaniards, to the tune of ten dollars a day, which, for Asuncion, is
an exorbitant sum. This hotel is not recommended to strangers by the
natives for the innate jealousy that the average South American has for
the Spaniard, who is his business superior, is not lacking in Paraguay.
The foreigners recommend to the stranger the Hotel Saint-Pierre, a
French hotel, or the Cancha (formerly the Gran Hotel del Paraguay), a
stock company hotel under German management.
The Hispano-Americano was built by the dictator, Francisco Solano Lopez
for his mistress, Madame Elisa Lynch, and here he lived with her and
here were his offsprings by her brought up. As I lay in my bed, or
walked the arched galleries of this edifice, I could nearly see the
festivities, banquets, and parties that took place in the great salon
(now the dining room) fifty-three years ago, hear the laughter of the
beautiful women in hoop skirts and the popping of corks of champagne
bottles, and smell the somniferous perfume of the _ñandeyara-guazús_
(high grade Paraguayan cigars) as their aroma was wafted upwards with
the smoke. Visions came to me of officers, their uniforms resplendent
with epaulettes and gold braid, brave men who met valiant deaths on the
field of battle or through exposure in the soggy palmetto and mangrove
swamps of the interior, of foreign diplomats, of dark, beautiful women
wearing delicate, luxuriant _ñanduti_ lace shawls, of the short and
corpulent bearded dictator with the perpetual strong cigar between his
lips, and of the Irish asp, his mistress, whose power and influence
upon her naturally progressive and ambitious paramour was greater than
that of Theodora on Justinian. J. F. Masterman in his _Seven Years'
Adventures in Paraguay_ states that Madame Lynch could drink more
champagne than any person he ever knew and not seem to feel any effects
therefrom. I would like to have matched her in a contest with a friend
of mine, now dead, whom I saw drink six quarts of champagne one after
another standing at a bar in San Francisco one evening in September,
1910.
The Hispano-Americano is a large structure two stories high of imposing
appearance on a corner of Calle Palmas, the main street. It is well
situated for it is near all the banks, business houses, and government
buildings. It has a large patio paved with black and white tiles,
where the dining tables are placed. Bedrooms open off from this patio.
On each side of the entrance thirty-four marble steps lead up to the
second story which has a balcony surrounding the patio, the arches
of which are supported by stone Doric columns. Onto this balcony open
tile-floored, high, and cool bedrooms. The balcony is paved with brick
and from it rise more Doric columns surmounted by arches which support
the roof. There is a second patio, this one open, which is reached by
a short hall behind the first patio. On this are the cheaper rooms. On
my former visit this hotel was not well kept up nor overclean, but now
it was all that could be desired and the Paraguayan cooking, with its
abundance of oil, peppers, tomatoes, and hot sauces, was excellent.
The proprietors own two Case automobiles, and one evening as I sat in
conversation with the Señor Grau, who assumes the active management
of the hotel, he suggested that I should take a ride with him for a
couple of hours. This was fine and I hastened to accept. The machine
was brought in front of the door, Grau and myself had got into it, when
the assistant manager came out and said something in an undertone to
Grau. The latter replied in a loud voice:
"Give everybody a room that asks for one except the Spanish consul.
Give him nothing."
I thought this was queer but said nothing, thinking that later on
Grau would explain what was up. He did not do so, however, until we
returned which was about ten o'clock at night. There were about a dozen
people in front of the hotel; on the threshold stood a tall, thin,
good-looking man about thirty-five years old, dressed in black. When
Grau got out this man approached him and said:
"What is the matter with this fellow?" pointing at the assistant
manager. "He refuses to give me a room."
"My instructions!" bellowed Grau. "You can get nothing here!"
A small crowd began to collect. The Spanish consul, for he was the tall
man in black, asked Grau to explain.
"Explain nothing!" yelled Grau. "You can get no more service here. You
have come to this hotel three or four different times, each time with a
different woman, and each time you have registered as man and wife. How
many wives have you anyway? I am not running a house of prostitution.
What do you take me for? Get out!"
There was a general peal of laughter from the crowd at this. The
Spanish consul, unabashed, with a smile walked away, stating that there
were other hotels in the town, where he could take his women, that were
just as good as Grau's and that he would do so now.
The Hotel Saint-Pierre is near the harbor on the Calle Colon, a cheap
business street. Many people prefer it for their sojourn in Asuncion
as it has the reputation for having the best cooking. In this respect
I found it lacking in the abundance and in the variety of that of
the Hispano-Americano. There is no bar; the rooms are small, and the
proprietor frequently tells the guests to retire to their rooms by a
side entrance as he is engaged entertaining friends in the hotel parlor
and main entrance. The proprietor is named Saint-Pierre, hence the name
of the hotel. He claims to be a French count, but the consensus of most
people is that he is crazy. He is a little, bald-headed old man about
sixty-five years old, with a gray moustache and imperial. He orders
the guests around as if he was bestowing upon them a favor for allowing
them to get lodging there. Many people desiring to obtain rooms there
are expected to furnish a pedigree. Colonel David Brainard, U. S.
A., military attaché to the United States Embassy at Buenos Aires, a
very distinguished man and one of the survivors of the famous Greely
expedition that attempted to discover the North Pole some time ago, was
on an extended trip through Paraguay with his friends. From Villa Rica
he telegraphed to Monsieur le comte de Saint-Pierre engaging rooms. The
latter worthy before he would allow his distinguished guests-to-be to
take up their domicile at his establishment looked up their character
and antecedents much to the amusement and disgust of Colonel Brainard
and friends.
The Gran Hotel del Paraguay occupies several single story buildings in
a large lawn on a hill, a twenty minutes' ride by cab from the business
section of Asuncion. For a man it is too far away to be handy, but
it is an ideal place for ladies with yarn to knit and novels to read.
The American consul rooms there. The bad feature of this hotel is that
the pedestrian at night in walking or driving there should never take
his finger from the trigger of his Derringer, for thieves often lurk
behind the giant locust trees on the Avenida España. After 2 A.M. the
street lights go out; walking then up the umbrageous road is nearly
impossible.
Natives stop at the Hotels Kosmos, Español, Palermo, and other similar
dumps conducive to vermin, mosquitoes, and malodorous toilets.
A Dutchman runs an excellent high-class pension named Villa Colombia,
where Argentine highbrows such as Don Nicolas Mihanovich sojourn while
visiting the city. This is in a large lawn across the street from the
Belvedere gardens. While I was in Asuncion, there was a big hullabaloo
because some thief stole eleven thousand dollars which the Dutchman had
hidden in an envelope in his residence.
The Capitol is a large barnlike rambling building with broad verandas
and is crowned with a square cupola. It was built by Carlos Antonio
Lopez and is the pride of the inhabitants; its picture adorns the
postage stamps of high denominations and also the two peso paper
currency.
Asuncion is the only South American city which has stone sidewalks.
They were originally built during the regime of Lopez I., who was the
patron of modernity. Asuncion as well as Villa Encarnacion has brick
sidewalks like the Massachusetts towns. The bricks and tile are of good
quality and shape. The brick layers and stone masons do better work
here than in Argentina and the rough brick buildings do not look as
dilapidated as in the last named republic. The red soil of Paraguay is
adapted to the manufacture of good bricks and a specie is turned out
akin to Bradford red.
There are three breweries in Paraguay: the one owned by Bosio Brothers
being the large fine one at the port. There is a branch brewery at a
suburb named Puerto Sanjonia which is now closed down. This brewery and
that of the Cerveceria Montevideana at Montevideo, Uruguay, brew the
best beer in South America. The 14 de Mayo brewery at Villa Encarnacion
likewise turns out a good product and there is a small German brewery
at San Bernardino in whose beer spring water is used. This last
mentioned brewery caters solely to family and local trade like that
of Ahrens in Córdoba and those of Peters and of Degen in San Antonio,
Texas. The Asuncion drinking water of the hotels is the limit. They
have no wells but instead they have tanks on their roofs to catch the
rain water. These tanks are never cleaned and the sides are covered
with green fungus. A dead cat bloated beyond recognition was found in
the tank of the Hispano-Americano. I drank the water without knowing
it. At home we eat frog's legs. The Asuncenos delight in eating the
body of the cucurús, the great garden toad. The Chaco Indians rejoice
in stewed monkey and fried slices of _gran vibora_, a snake peculiar to
that swamp, while the iguana is held in edible estimation by the white
population. Locust pies and boiled parrot also find their way down the
alimentary canals of the aborigines.
The two places of the greatest interest to the stranger in Asuncion are
the cemetery of Mangrullo and the market-place. The former is located
beyond the city limits on the road to Puerto Sajonia. It is on a
high-road hill from which an excellent panorama can be had of the city,
the river, and the Chaco beyond. The origin of the name is unknown,
but the word "Mangrullo" is always used to denote the military lookout
tower.
This cemetery is redolent with the thoughts of spooks, banshee,
ghosts, and other phantomic gentry of like species. In daytime it
is a lugubrious place nearly surrounded by high walls, from above
which tower slender cypress trees, and at night it must be doubly so,
especially when the moon plays on the mortuary chapel from the tree
limbs. This cemetery is where the poor people are buried; the wealthy
are interred in the aristocratic Recoleta.
[Illustration: Mangrullo Cemetery, Asuncion]
On the path, long before reaching Mangrullo, wailing is heard coming
from within the enclosure. At the entrance seated on the ground are
aged women selling fruit with _poguazú_ cigars in their mouths. A
leper or two adds charm to the scene. They are not begging, but expect
everyone waiting for somebody to slip a peso bill (2½ c.) into their
spotted hands. From the iron entrance, the only road in the cemetery
leads to the chapel in the center. Black clothed persons wander
ghoulishly among the tombstones, their hats in their hands. A concourse
of people is assembled in front of the building. Nearby is a wooden
tower, and on a platform underneath its roof a hunchback is ringing the
bell, making it peal at slow intervals. The bell stops and the wailing
of the bare-headed assembly begins. This lasts about five minutes; the
hunchback then tolls the bell anew, this time in a rapid succession of
clangs. The men lift up the rude box containing the dead person from
which the olfactory aroma of putrid flesh arises and carrying it to the
shallow grave, they bury it to the tune of the great bell which has
again started ringing. When the bell stops, the women start wailing
again and the men stand aside to smoke, talk politics, and watch the
scene. The wailing is not caused so much through grief as it is to see
who can make the loudest noise.
A woman had lost her two weeks' old baby and her relations as far
removed as the fourth generation of cousin had come to mourn. The
shrieks emitted were not human. They sounded more like the snarling
and growling of animals, the howling of hyenas and ululations of
owls. The women worked themselves into a frenzy of hysteria, and the
bereaved mother threw herself on the grave and, lying on her back,
kicked, struggled, and writhed until she became unconscious through
her own emotions. One of these wailing fests that I witnessed came to a
sudden and untimely end. While the family and relatives of a murdered
man had reached a soprano in the shrieking test, a ñacaniná (large
viper) crawled from a hole beneath a tombstone and, frightened at the
lugubrious wails, attempted to escape by safely crawling away. It took
its course among the mourners, and the hurried scamper of footsteps
to the tune of blasphemous and ungodly oaths was now the order of the
funeral aftermath.
The graves in the Mangrullo cemetery are so multitudinous and so close
together that it is impossible for a funeral procession to reach the
newly dug grave without crossing numerous mounds. There are but few
monuments, iron crosses painted black taking their places. Iron fences
surround the graves of those who have well-to-do relatives. But few
inscriptions tell the age of the beloved deceased; instead there hangs
at each cross a photograph likeness of the dead.
The market-place of Asuncion probably offers more attractions to
the stranger than in any other city. It is situated in the middle
of the town and has a large covered frame building where meats are
hung. Making a circumvallation of the butcher shop are benches where
sit women, white, black, Indian, and mixed breed, offering for sale
cigars of their own manufacture. Outside on the ground squat the
rabble who cannot afford a chair at the benches. They sell parrakeets,
divers song-birds, the succulent stubby native banana, curiously
shaped peppers, avocados, herbs, pineapples, and cooked viands. At
the entrance to the market are kiosks where caña or native rum is
dispensed. At 8:00 A.M. the market-place represents great animation.
Lazy, fat lousy dogs, hundreds in number, their bellies gorged with
rare meat and offal, lie in glutinous stupor in the aisles and under
the shade of large stationary umbrellas. They lick the grease from the
roasted meat for sale and urinate in the frying pans. Ignorant natives
purchase these meat roasts and greedily devour it, unconscious of
its flavoring. This is the one place in Asuncion where meat and fresh
vegetables are for sale, and the private families and hotel guests are
obliged to partake of it or starve.
But few foreign women visit Asuncion; it should be their paradise
because here for a song can be purchased the ñanduti, the most delicate
silk and cotton embroidery in existence woven by the native women. This
wonderful texture represents much labor and is in great demand. The
_guayaba_ flower is a popular design, a round blossom with a starlike
center. Stuffed alligators and cucurús adorn the store windows and live
parrots sell for a few cents apiece. In buying a parrot, one should
previously enlist the services of a native. Birds under one year are
most precious and those with the yellow head command the highest price.
In order to make the old birds appear wild and hearty, the natives feed
them with rum. This makes them flutter and their antics then create a
grand show off. En voyage a few days later they die of old age and the
innocent purchaser is unaware that rum was used to produce unnatural
activity. It is better to purchase parrakeets in Buenos Aires because
the pick of Paraguay is exported to the bird stores on the Calle
Moreno. At San Bernardino can be bought lovely egrets and butterfly
wings. Monkeys cannot stand transportation and soon die.
The physicians of Asuncion are poor and but few hold genuine degrees.
Every bowel or stomach complaint that the patient gets, they are likely
to diagnose as appendicitis, and they are anxious to operate with dirty
instruments which they carry loosely in their pockets. I know of a
case of a woman having a dull pain high up on her left side which they
claimed was appendicitis and they wanted to operate on her for it,
telling her it was a reflex pain, when in reality it was nothing but a
common fatty tumor.
One of the curses in Asuncion and so acknowledged by the English
residents are the missionaries from Australia classed as the
Plymouth Brethren, which belief is akin to that of the Methodists.
No missionaries are needed in Paraguay. These Plymouth Brethren,
numbering two families, were sent to Asuncion with free transportation
and a monthly salary of twenty pounds to teach religion to the poor
benighted heathen which there does not exist. They hold services
at their pleasure in a room in their houses to a congregation that
scarcely reaches six in number. The remainder of their time they spend
in indolent ease, for a person in Asuncion can live like a king on
one hundred dollars per month. One of the chief Paraguayan industries
is the manufacture of cigars. The native women make two classes, the
_poguazú_ and _pohí_. The first mentioned are long, large, strong
cigars which sell at 2½ c. per half dozen. This is a favorite one with
the native women who invariably have one poked half-way down their
muzzle, the ashy end just protruding. The pohís are small cigars with
outside wrapper grown from Havana seed. They are more aromatic and sell
for 2½ c. a dozen. The factories made five cigars, that of La Veguera
turning out one named "Don Alfonso" which sells for 120 pesos ($3) for
twenty-five, or 12 c. apiece. This same brand sells in Buenos Aires for
50 c. apiece and is equal to the best Havanas that sell in the United
States for $1 apiece. The ñandeyara guazú is a fine cigar that sells
for 30 pesos (75 c.) a hundred. Paraguay is a smoker's paradise and
the advantage of the tobacco is that it never causes sore spots on the
tongue nor any other vocal irritation.
The inhabitants are extremely lazy, and on the estancias the men
live in indolent ease, their many concubines doing the real labor.
Strangers living in Paraguay become in time like the natives, taking
their siesta at noon and putting off all work until the morrow. The
business is in the hands of the Spaniards, Germans, and Italians. There
are over five thousand Germans in the republic but like the Spaniard
they are unpopular with the natives. There is much wealth in Asuncion
according to the Paraguayan standard but very little according to the
European standard. The town teems with millionaires but a million pesos
Paraguayan amounts to only twenty-five thousand dollars. These people
can make a great splurge and live in great style in Asuncion where food
is plentiful and good, qualifying a luxury. The women of these people
assume great airs. There are only two real millionaires according to
their wealth in North American currency. One is Saccarello, an Italian
estanciero and the other is Jorba, a Spaniard, who has a general store
and who is an extensive exporter with an office in Barcelona. Angulo,
another exporter and storekeeper, is wealthy as well as Urrutia and
Uguarte, bankers; but these last named people are not millionaires.
For $7500 can be built a palace of a house. Land is cheap all over the
republic. There is a market for all native products which are lumber,
cattle, mandioca, sugar cane, tobacco, yerba maté, and tannic acid. But
little is exported on account of the scarcity of labor for the men will
not work. What labor there is, is cheap. For example, the old Spaniard
who is bartender, table waiter, floor sweeper, and general factotum of
the Hotel Hispano-Americano only receives $10 a month, with practically
no income from tips. With this, he supports his English wife and four
children. Poverty in Paraguay is unknown. About 5000 acres of rich soil
can be purchased for $10,000.
Paraguay is one of the few South American countries which has iron but
as yet it is not exploited, although in the period of the Five Years'
War it furnished material from which the cannon were manufactured in
Asuncion. The language of the country is Guarani, phonetic, expressive
and rich in vowels. Foreigners learn it easily and it is the vernacular
of all excepting those people dealing with strangers. The newspaper
was formerly published in it and Lopez was at one time thinking
seriously of making it the official language of the country. Outside of
Asuncion it is essentially spoken throughout the country and in certain
districts Spanish is of no avail.
Some of the Asuncenas are gems. If the reader of this work has
previously read my _South American Travels_ he may remember of my
stating that I saw in the telegraph office in Asuncion, working
as clerks, two of the most beautiful girls that I have ever gazed
upon. This time while in the city I returned to the telegraph office
ostensibly to send a message, but in reality to see if the same maidens
were still on the job. The youngest was there, a marvelous work of
God, but three years' lapse of time had slightly undermined her beauty.
Although we had seen each other but one brief moment before and had met
thousands of people in the interval, recognition was at once mutual. I
told her how beautiful she was, how she attracted me and how I longed
to make her acquaintance. She reciprocated my attentions, told me that
her name was Marcelina Espinosa and that I had permission to call on
her. This happened on the eve of my departure for Motto Grosso, and
I assured her that when I returned to Asuncion in the course of two
months that I certainly should avail myself of the pleasure of her kind
invitation.
Not wishing to seem egotistical in making this statement, I was not
long in Asuncion, before I discovered that I appealed to Paraguayan
womanhood. Oftentimes of an evening while passing along the residential
streets I would notice women in the act of closing the doors or the
shutters. On seeing me they would desist from this occupation and
regard me longingly and sympathetically until I had disappeared from
sight. At a printing establishment which had picture postal cards for
sale, a fine looking woman on whose face was depicted latent passions
which only needed encouragement to become a reality, waited on me.
As I paid her for a trivial purchase, she let her hand linger in mine
looking at me appealingly for reciprocation.
An old native woman in the market-place admired a gold ring with jade
setting which I always wear as a lucky stone. She was not content only
in admiring it, but she went through the market and got her friends to
come and look at it. Many of these were comely girls. They not knowing
that I understood a word of Guarani remarked on its beauty, and then
fell to discussing me in most charming terms.
Although most Paraguayans are born out of wedlock, the inhabitants
are not immoral. Like the majority of Latin Americans they are unmoral
because they never had any morals to begin with. It is quite the thing
in Asuncion for men forty years old and more to have lustful intentions
on twelve-year old girls. Women frequently marry at fourteen years
of age, but men seldom do so before they are thirty years old. Many
women remain single for there are nine women to every man in Paraguay,
owing to the decimation of the latter in the numerous revolutions
that have taken place, and with such a disproportionate ratio on the
side of the women, it is easy for the men to satisfy their desires
without marriage. Excepting among the highest social classes virtue
among women has no value and men who are old enough to be grandfathers
lasciviously ogle girls that have scarcely reached the age of puberty.
This great disparity of ages does not have the evil results that are
often the case in colder countries. The women soon lose their good
looks while the men seldom change until they reach old age. The girls
for generations have been taught to marry men considerably older
than themselves; thus the caned and bespatted young fops that haunt
the cafés and moving picture shows are obliged to form mesalliances
with young half-breed girls. The latter are too ignorant to make any
objection to being seduced as they have been taught that it is the
natural state of affairs. No matter how unmoral the people are, a
Paraguayan girl is rarely to be found in a brothel. Many men going
by different names are half brothers, having had the same mother but
different fathers. As in all countries of lax morals, syphilis is rife.
But very few of the inhabitants show outward symptoms of it, for it is
so much inbred in the people that it has lost its virulence.
I had met on the train coming from Buenos Aires a man who was so
Teutonic in appearance and in style of his clothes that I had supposed
him to be fresh from Germany. He sat across from me at the table in
the dining car after leaving Villa Encarnacion, and I was surprised to
hear him answer "Chileno" when the Paraguayan immigration inspector
asked him his nationality. He was the grandson of a German who had
settled in Southern Chile. This man that I met was about forty years
old and is so prominent in financial circles that his name is famous
all over Southern Chile. He was now on his way to Asuncion to look
over one of the two Paraguayan gunboats which the government wished
to sell in order to obtain sufficient funds to pay off the army with.
If the gunboat suited him he could have it shipped to Chile and have
it remodeled as a freighter or a passenger ship. His name for obvious
reasons I shall designate as M----.
Señor M---- was a very entertaining man, had traveled all over the
world, and appeared to have a good knowledge of sociology. I invited
him to the Hispano-Americano to have dinner with me and he in turn
invited me to dine with him at the Saint-Pierre where he sojourned. We
went a couple of times to the moving picture shows and to the Belvedere
gardens. His discourse was always of the most moral and elevating
character which was a marked contrast to that of the natives. One
night I suggested that we should take in a vaudeville entertainment
that was being staged at the Belvedere. He agreed and I went to the
Hotel Saint-Pierre to meet him. As it was a nice evening he suggested
that we should walk, although it was nearly two miles there. Soon
after starting out, a tropical thunder storm, so common to southern
latitudes, came up, and rain fell in such a deluge that we were obliged
to take shelter in a doorway. The street became a veritable river and
owing to the violence of the downpour the street cars stopped running.
Just as suddenly as the storm had broken, it stopped. It was too wet
to continue walking and as we were trying to arrive at a decision as to
how we could best get to Belvedere, a little girl about fourteen years
walked by. M---- noticed her and straightway walked out of the shelter
where we were standing to say something to her. I supposed that he
had gone to question her about the car service, but as they conversed
at length and as I saw her smile, I thought I would walk up to see
what the joke was. Imagine my astonishment when I heard M----, whom I
had supposed to be so moral and before whom I was always choosing my
language, in conversation with this child inducing her to allow him
to seduce her. My astonishment was still greater when she accepted
his approaches and walked off with him in the direction of the Hotel
Saint-Pierre where we had just come from.
About two o'clock the next afternoon as I was returning to my hotel
from a walk, I saw M---- on the marble stairs of the Hispano-Americano
offering pecuniary inducements to any of the old women (none were
under fifty) who daily sat on the bottom steps displaying _ñanduti_
embroidery for sale, if one would come up to a bedroom for a half hour.
M---- did not make such a hit with these _ñanduti_ women as he did with
the little native girl, for none would accept his terms.
I upbraided M---- roundly for his actions telling him that he should
be ashamed of himself for making such propositions to young girls.
"Es costumbre" ("It's the custom") he would answer, and that was all
the excuse he could give for his actions. He informed me that he had
discovered that the Paraguayan native was much like the Chilean of the
lower stratum, and that for a few pesos he could "fix" any policeman or
irate parent in Asuncion the same way as he could at his home town in
Chile. This man thought he was doing nothing unnatural or to be ashamed
of. I later found out that M---- was telling the truth as far as it
was "costumbre," for Chile and Paraguay have among their respected
citizens, men who emulate the same acts as M---- and are not arrested
for them, while here in North America they would be safely behind the
bars of some institution for doing the same thing.
About twenty miles northwest of Asuncion is the entrancing Lake
Ypacara-i, twelve miles long by five broad. Its shores are dotted with
the summer residences of the Asuncene aristocracy. San Bernardino is a
German colony and is the most delectable place in all Paraguay. It is
reached by train from Asuncion to Areguá, another summer resort where
cars are changed. A couple of miles from Areguá is a station named
Kendall, whence one can cross by launch to San Bernardino, where are
located the Hotel del Lago and the Hotel Rasmussen, the first mentioned
being the best. The scenery is beautifully pastoral and brings to one's
mind Virgil's _Bucolics_, for here like the scenery he described in his
immortal work, shepherd boys watch their ovine flocks playing melodies
on slender reeds.