GUAJIRA PENINSULA — ORIST 353 



arrangement might well be substituted, for a gradual shift from 

 strong drink to wholesome food would certainly be a step in the di- 

 rection of increased hours of productiveness — one might even add, of 

 consciousness, in view of the long hours and days that are passed by 

 all too many, and too often, in a sodden stupor. Nor is it a happy 

 sight to see a group of Guajiro men, just returned from Maracaibo 

 with a neat sum of hard-earned bolivars, spending their savings of 6 

 months or a year in a week's carousal, on their way home, in some 

 tiny country store. 



These thatch-roofed, or at present more often tin-roofed, little 

 stores, seemingly lost in the vast expanse of scattered bush, act as 

 community centers ; along with the waterholes and the large markets 

 of Paraguaipoa and Maicao, they are the economic and social foci of 

 the population of seminomadic herdsmen and of more or less sedentary 

 people anchored to their small garden plots and their looms. The 

 forlorn, lackluster look of these little centers during the week has 

 nothing in common with their appearance on holidays or weekends. 

 As early as Friday families of Indians from outlying areas begin 

 to arrive, silently stretching their hammocks, spreading their pro- 

 visions of dried goat meat on the roof of the enramada or on the 

 branches of a convenient thorn bush, stacking the fiber bags of their 

 few belongings in piles nearby, and otherwise making ready to spend 

 several days. (PL 7, fig. 2.) So much of their lives is nomadic that 

 it is easy for them to make themselves at home wherever they are. 

 They bring to the little store the goats, sheep, or lambs, the calves, 

 chickens, or eggs they are planning to turn into cash. All too often 

 they take their pay in hard liquor or in flashy trade goods they may 

 want but do not particularly need. As the day wears on, little clus- 

 ters of people form around a rickety table in the lean-to of the 

 store itself, around hammocks in the enramada close by, or in silent 

 circles under the branches of the scant-leaved trees. The menfolk 

 tend to hang around the store where they drink a lot, talk a lot, and 

 forget their everyday tasks ; the women form little groups, silent for 

 the most part, now looking fondly, with soft, black, liquid eyes, at 

 the baby at the breast or asleep in its tiny hammock, now glancing, 

 perhaps with a trace of apprehension, across the narrow strip of 

 space in the full glare of oppressive sunlight, at the menfolk around 

 the store getting louder and drunker, or more often gazing fixedly 

 at the outline of cactus-studded hills in the distance, bathed in the 

 blue-gray haze. 



With regard to money prices for goods exchanged, an interesting 

 phenomenon has arisen as a result of the international boundary 

 which runs through the Guajira: the influence of the stronger 

 economy, or at least the stronger currency, that does not respect 



