Wenceslao Retana’s “El Indio Batangueño,” a Translation [Part XI]
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Page IX | Page X | Part XI
This page is the Final installment of the AI-assisted transcription of Wenceslao Emilio Retana’s book about Batangas in the late 19th century.
He was a 19th 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 indio who serves a European lives, undoubtedly, in better conditions.
They usually ask for a wage of about twenty reales a month; but when he realizes that the castila he serves has taken a certain liking to him, then he asks for as much as three pesos. These are the ones improperly called batas; coachmen earn 4 to 5 pesos, and cooks 5 to 8.
Among those dedicated to domestic service, one notices an anomaly that surprises peninsular Spaniards: it is well known that the indio has aptitude for everything. Yet among servants, it is customary for each one to devote himself exclusively to a single task, and it is rare to find one who performs several with genuine enthusiasm.
For this reason, in every moderately established household, there is a large number of servants. One maid for the lady of the house, another for each young woman, another for each child; in addition, a lampaseador, two, three, or four batas to serve at the table and carry messages; one acting as steward, a cook, a coachman, a sota — up to fifteen.
Some families, both European and native, have fifteen or twenty servants. But as a general rule, the island-born Spaniards always have more numerous households than the peninsular Spaniards.
Cooks serve a single castila with more enthusiasm than anyone else, because from him they can pilfer with impunity. They are gamblers; they have little conscience; and as soon as their master finishes eating, they disappear and do not return until it is time to prepare dinner. Once dinner is done, they leave again — until the next day.
Among the batas in smaller households, there is always one who acts superior, and it should be noted that even among them there are categories. They acquire these either by age, knowledge, and bearing, or by physical beauty and general outward appearance. Note that in many houses, the most chicli-rico servant is the one who works the least, yet has the most authority; while the ugliest and most ragged are the ones who scrub, fetch water, and perform, in short, the most painful and degrading tasks.
You must see them all when they are in the kitchen: there is where they discuss the fruits of their snooping; there, between caresses and teasing the rooster, they gloss and comment to their liking on everything they have seen the castila do. The one acting as steward has his food served separately and has water brought to him; he is almost a true little gentleman. In houses where there is no such steward, there is always one who imposes himself on his companions as such, and he alone monopolizes the most select leftovers of his master, which he eats calmly, without his inferiors opposing or being offended in the slightest.
If the master scolds any one of his servants, he is not disturbed; at most he scratches himself, the posterior part being where it itches most.
As for the one acting as steward, do not order him about — not even with the blows the coachman receives when the master administers them.
The coachman who serves a well-off person usually spends the entire day in the street; he only goes to the house he serves to be given food and at the hours when his master customarily goes out for a stroll. He grows fond of the horses; but this does not prevent him from striking them with the whip throughout the journey, for he does not know how to drive except by hitting, driven by a lively itch that moves him to make the carriage run at full speed. And if he sees other carriages going in the same direction as his — then he lashes the poor animals without compassion until he overtakes the other.
Not so the driver of the carromata, who, fully convinced of the scant vigor of his nag, does not worry much about being first or second; but this does not prevent him from instinctively landing a good cane-stroke every half minute on the shaggy haunches of the famished beast.
Servants of indigenous families usually differ from those who serve Europeans in that not only do they not know how to speak castilla, but they also go about in a disastrous state at all hours.
It is quite true that the quality of being dirty is native to almost all indios; and since they also have a great fondness for making themselves the object of frequent ablutions, these two qualities form a true antinomy among their innate traits.
When the indio bathes in the countryside, he usually does not cover his body with any cloth, even when within reach of feminine eyes.
The bathing attire of the india is the same skirt she lifts until the drawstring rests beneath her armpits, fastening it by means of a knot that ends up positioned at her breast; thus no one can see even a single line that might reveal any modest charm.
The metidas (old women) usually do not lift their skirt — something that the young women also do from time to time, but only when they bathe in...
In secluded places or when they reach such spots, they begin to wash clothes. Since the india never goes alone for such a task — unless she is an old woman — but instead goes with a friend or relative, it is not rare to see them scraping each other’s skin, sometimes with gogo, other times with a river pebble.
In the countryside, we have had occasion to witness things little short of astonishing: men rubbing their skin at the riverbank wearing nothing more than what our father Adam wore before tasting the biblical apple; and this, in itself, would not have attracted much attention, had we not seen that these same men, despite their paradisiacal attire, did not frighten the young women who, a meter away, washed clothes with the same tranquility as if they saw [crossed-out] nothing; young women who, when in the paternal bahay, are excessively meticulous and prudish.
Regarding the clothing of the Batangas people, anything we might note would be useless, because the indios of the province of Batangas dress exactly like the other Tagalogs, and the garments they use have already been described by many writers and travelers.
As for the weapons they use, we can say little. The talibon, which is prohibited, is a kind of bolo, as long as a Prussian machete and ending in a more or less penetrating point. Of the bolo we will say nothing, because it is more than a weapon — it is a tool used by almost all Filipino indios to build their houses and to make countless things, even the smallest and most delicate, such as toothpicks admirably decorated.
As for the Batangueño, it is enough to see his head to know what he is. The rule rarely varies, and this leads us to give, below, a few brief notes on how Batangueño indios wear their hair.
Those who, within their class, enjoy a certain superiority and, because of their profession, have frequent dealings with Europeans — such as senior clerks, stewards, orchestra leaders, pianists — if they are young, wear short hair, combed upward, without excessive oil or grease.
Exceptions to this rule:
The gobernadorcillos, who usually go shaved like the proprietors;
And the coachmen (they are chiefs among the Europeans), who part their hair in the middle; long on top and short on the sides; they use plenty of oil.
Batas, musicians, feather-workers, and others of similar standing: they comb their hair like the coachmen, but use even more oil.
The fashionable men of the carefree class, azotacailles with more or less fortune in their homes — all of them young: part on one side; a large wave over the forehead, and much oil.
Proprietors of more or less education, from 35 or 40 years upward: hair somewhat long in the front part of the head, directed upward, and quite short, shaved, in the back; very little oil.
Servants of the lowest class, carpenters, masons, and other low-paid laborers: short hair, combed downward, and ordinarily without any grease.
Barangay heads, justices’ lieutenants, carromata drivers, and shop owners: long, tangled hair, parted in the middle (though barely noticeable), with two abundant locks in front of the ears; the back very closely shaved; they apply oil on days when they celebrate something.
The indio montaraz: long hair, shaggy, and rarely oily.
Without exception, all shave the nape of the neck.
The indias comb their hair upward: they gather all the hair at the crown, twist it, and make with it a knot that forms a beautiful bun which almost all proudly display. In front of the bun they always wear a comb — of wood, horn, or shell — depending on their position or personal taste.
In conclusion:
The Batangueño indio is capable of everything, a good believer, and very hospitable. In general, he is docile, submissive, and respectful. He is quite hardworking; many of them know how to read and write in their own language.
The india never falls into apathy. She is intelligent, hardworking, and economical; a good mother, a faithful wife, and, when single, quite modest.
Both conform to their lot in life, and few deserve the epithet of ambitious, and even fewer that of usurers.
Peaceful by nature, only a small number take to the bandit life; these, driven most of the time by extreme necessity.
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Page IX | Page X | Part XI
