Wenceslao Retana’s “El Indio Batangueño,” a Translation [Part IX]

This page continues with the AI-assisted transcription of Wenceslao Emilio Retana’s 19^th century classic work “El Indio Batangueño.”

Retana was a 19^th century Spanish civil servant, colonial administrator, biographer, political commentator, publisher, and bibliographer. His work on Batangas will sound condescending by present day standards, but should nonetheless provide valuable insight into life in the province in the 19th century.

The rooster is the indio’s perfect companion. It is rare to find an indio who does not have at least one. The saying — “a marriage without children is a cage without birds” — leads us to compose another, perhaps even more accurate: an indio without a rooster is an empty cage.

Even those who work in domestic service usually have a rooster, which they caress during the moments when their duties give them a brief pause. The indio who lives in the countryside, devoted to agricultural labor, is even more fond of that proud two‑legged creature of the gallinaceous order.

Every indio adores his rooster with greater or lesser fervor; but it is well known that interest plays a part in this enthusiasm, for all that care and affection lasts only until the rooster dies from the blade of its opponent in the cockpit.

The indio is an early riser; and his first concern upon opening his eyes is to greet his beloved rooster. He takes it with his left hand, placing it beneath the bird’s breast so that the shell of the body fits between his middle and ring fingers, leaving the pampered animal with its wings free, able to straighten up and release a loud ki‑ki‑ri‑kii — a kind of outburst that shows the extent of its satisfaction and well‑being.

With the bird held as described, the owner rubs it firmly in a slanted direction, along the grain of the feathers. From time to time, he touches with the tip of his index finger the rearmost part of the animal; there lies the tenaza, formed by two pointed bones, which indicate how good the rooster is — the farther apart those bones are, the better. He then passes the rooster to his right hand, and with the left performs exactly what the right has just done. All these rubs have an important purpose: to flatten the rooster’s feathers so it appears small, and to strengthen its limbs.

Indios often spend entire hours examining their rooster’s legs. They count the scales, study the pupils, stretch each toe, and from time to time scratch its ears with a bit of saliva. The gallo bataqueño, almost as famous as the rooster from Laguna, is usually medium‑sized, with a small but wide crest, proud bearing, and a very short beak. Its color appears in every shade.

Indios may only engage in cockfighting on feast days. In every town of the province there is a special building, the gallera, where one sees the bloody encounters provoked by the fight between one rooster and another. Some indios risk one hundred or two hundred duros on their favorite rooster. Large bets are no longer common — not because the passion has diminished, but because nearly all the wealthy have been in poor financial condition due to repeated bad harvests.

Once the bets are placed, the owners arm their roosters with a razor‑sharp blade, like a spur, attached to the left leg. When the roosters are released, the outcome almost always depends on that blade. They stare at each other, fluff their neck feathers, and charge, until one rolls to the ground or emerges wounded. The braver rooster wins; victory is often declared in favor of the dying bird while the opponent escapes unharmed.

These matters are decided by a man called the sentenciador. When the loser does not accept the ruling — which is rare — he appeals to the Court of First Instance, where the judge issues a final and unappealable decision. According to experts, a good fighting rooster must be medium‑sized, firm‑fleshed, tight‑winged, a great leaper, sharp‑eyed, with legs not too thick, few but large scales, an upright neck, a very open tenaza, and a small beak.

“Cockfights are to the people of the Philippines what bullfights are to the Spaniards.” Yet there is a great difference between fans of bullfighting and fans of cockfighting. In Spain, the audience cheers the man who risks his life before a wild beast, scolds him when he performs poorly, and cries out in horror when he is gored. Outside the arena, they debate every thrust of the sword.

In cockfights, nothing of the sort happens. At first, everyone is silent; but as soon as one rooster is wounded, all begin to shout, shriek, and howl, producing an infernal mixture of sounds like a great brawl or a witches’ sabbath. When one rooster dies, everyone falls quiet. The fight is discussed briefly, and the owner of the dead rooster returns to his usual philosophy, casting aside all the affection he had shown for years. It is as if the indio loses memory and heart by enchantment when misfortune strikes.

If his father, wife, or child dies, he feels it, dresses in mourning, sheds some tears — but these serve to erase the memory of the recently lost person. This is not to say he lacks affection; the indio has feelings, for these are legitimate daughters of the human heart.

The indio generally feels misfortune lightly; he consoles himself quickly. The cries of “raunog, sunog” disturb him only if the fire is near his house; otherwise he watches calmly or stays home. He is dominated by a certain psychic lethargy — the summum of eternal calm.

On July 5, 1885, several houses in Calumpang burned down. Only a few indios helped; most fled or watched coolly from nearby houses. The Mayor had to go house to house, scolding them for their apathy. This impassivity reveals the indio’s temperament. He knows how little human effort can achieve against burning cane and nipa, and that if his house burns, he will find shelter and rebuild quickly.

If the indio does not face disasters with courage, it is because he believes things happen fatally and fighting them is wasted effort. He is a fatalist. But one thing terrifies him: an earthquake. If he feels it in a tall or solid building, he runs until nothing can fall on him. If he is in his hammock, he lies face‑down and prays until the tremor passes.

Another thing that troubles the Batangueño farmer is the locust. When it invades his field, he runs anxiously, becomes furious, even cries and tears at his hair, spending hours driving away the swarm. He sees the fruit of his labor disappearing. But since only he, his wife, and his children fight the plague, he becomes discouraged, seeing that if he drives away thousands on one side, millions destroy his crop on the other. Each tao stays on his own land, snapping two canes like castanets, waiting for the locusts to enter his domain. Those in the neighboring field concern him, but he does not drive them away.

Such scant psychological sensitivity bears no relation to the physiological. The indio is lustful by innate inclination. Woman exerts a prodigious attraction from a young age; all of them like women excessively. Yet none spends his fortune on mistresses. Erotic impulses never lead him to erotomania; he tends toward calculated epicureanism. Only the most mountain‑dwelling types commit suicide over romantic disappointment.

Many writers say the indio is extremely sensual. Concepción claims sensuality is a dominant vice. In truth, it is more a requirement of his organism. He has corrected some old defects, but not sensuality — nor will he. He simply hides it more. The climate awakens generative instincts even in naturally cold Westerners.

We are not shocked by the indio’s lust or scant morality. The clothing of the india is a powerful incentive; many rural women wear a transparent blouse like cendal.

She is never accused of being immodest according to indio moral standards. No fiesta shows the familiar touching seen in some European gatherings. She is kind and accommodating; if she knows a skill and is asked to perform it, she does so gladly.

She is meticulous, even a little fussy, and likes to be treated with tenderness. Men treat her that way; even the most expressive among them, when they wish to obtain something they cannot express without coarse words, rely on circumlocutions and euphemisms, saying what they mean without offending her modesty. They know what they are doing: the india angrily rejects brusqueness. Thus lovers try to be as restrained in their actions as they are gentle and gallant in their manner.