CRUZ DAS almas: a BRAZILIAN VILLAGE' — ^PIERSON 



123 



cept, probably because his failure to participate 

 symbolizes a fact concurred in by all, namely, that 

 he is not an integral part of the group. 



To speak favorably of an object belonging to 

 another person, and especially to praise it highly, 

 is ordinarily interpreted as indicating a desire to 

 possess it. A stranger once remarked favorably 

 about the tanning of a goat skin hanging on the 

 ■wall of a villager's house. The host immediately 

 rose from his chair, took the skin from the wall, 

 wrapped it up and gave it to his guest. The lat- 

 ter's protests were unavailing in the face of vigor- 

 ous insistence that he carrj^ the skin home. An- 

 other man in the village was proudly showing a 

 visitor several old coins, one of which had been 

 minted in the colonial era. Wlien the guest 

 evinced considerable interest in the coins, the host 

 immediately said, "If you like them, you may have 

 them," and presented the whole lot to the visitor. 

 When the latter demurred, the villager insisted 

 even more strongly, "Those coins aren't worth any- 

 thing to me. Take them !" As the guest con- 

 tinued to insist that he could not accept the gift, 

 the villager, with an air of finality, gathered up 

 the coins and put them forcefully into the visitor's 

 hand. 



The giving and receiving of presents are also 

 subject to clearly prescribed rules of etiquette. 

 The manner in which the present is tendered may 

 make the act either a friendly gesture or a serious 

 offense. If the act accompanies circumstances 

 considered natural by the group, it will be well re- 

 ceived ; if, on the other hand, the previous relation 

 between giver and recipient is not thought to jus- 

 tify the gift, it may be considered an insult or at 

 least a case of 'pouco caso (making light) of the 

 other person. 



Similar expectations accompany the doing and 

 accepting of a favor. A villager voluntarily 

 helped a stranger put a few sacks of grain in his 

 truck, after which he joined a group of friends 

 nearby with the satisfied air of one who had dis- 

 charged well an obligation. When, however, the 

 stranger, with a certain condescension, called to 

 the villager, "Hey, you, there! Take this!" and 

 shoved toward him a b-cruzeiro note, the latter 

 withdrew a bit, put his hands behind him and, in 

 a voice in which indignation struggled with ti- 

 midity, replied, "No, sir. Thank you. You don't 

 need to do that." Turning his back on the stranger, 



the villager remarked to a friend, "I don't have to 

 accept charity. Did you notice his superior air? 

 Thank God, I'm not crippled and can earn what 

 I need." 



The same villager, on another and similar oc- 

 casion, voluntarily helped a man from Piracema 

 unload his truck at the village store, in the rain, 

 late one evening. When the truck was empty, the 

 driver turned to the villager and said, "Let's take 

 a little swallow," and, leading the way into the 

 venda, he asked for a rabo de galo (literally, a 

 rooster's tail ; that is, ping a with vermouth) . On 

 being thus treated as an equal, the villager readily 

 responded. After each had drained his glass, the 

 driver asked the villager, "How much do I owe 

 you?'" "Nothing," was the reply, "I was just 

 helping you out." "Then take this and get your- 

 self a beer," said the driver, as he laid a b-cruzeiro 

 note on the counter. "Tliank you, but you didn't 

 need to," said the villager, as he took the note and 

 put it in his pocket. The gratuity had been prop- 

 erly offered and accepted, in keeping with the 

 local custom. Payment was indirect and over the 

 necessary protests of the recipient. 



The two incidents involved, in each case, a local 

 resident and a person from outside the commu- 

 nitj'. The same expectations, however, attach to 

 similar relationships in which only members of 

 the community are involved. An elderly villager, 

 on an occasion when he had caught several Jambari, 

 invited one of the storekeepers, whose financial 

 condition was considerably above his own, to- 

 gether with another friend, to take dinner in his 

 home. As a special treat, he had arranged for 

 the meal two bottles of wine. The meal was a 

 pleasant occasion and was partaken of in the midst 

 of friendly conversation. 



Afterward, however, the storekeeper, addressing 

 himself to his host, remarked, "You, my friend, 

 are a good man. You are giving us food — good 

 food, with wine, and everything. You know how 

 it is — I can't have you up to my house for a meal 

 like this. Since my wife died, I'm alone there." 

 The villager expressed his understanding and sym- 

 pathy. The storekeeper then took out of his pocket 

 two notes of 20 cruzeiros each and sought to place 

 them in the pocket of his friend, as he remarked, 

 in a hesitant voice, as if he realized that such a 

 gesture was not in keeping with the local etiquette, 



