JAROCHO LIFE.
THE difference between the peasantry of Teutonic type and those of Latinic nationality has often arrested my attention. I know not how far ethnologists have dwelt upon this point, or whether they have even touched on it. I have observed it in both worlds—for it is equally noticeable in the New as in the Old.
Take a laborer of England—say of Bucks, or Berkshire; place him alongside a peasant of Spain, Manchegan, Gallegan, or Catalan, and see what a contrast! It is like the sombre turkey beside the glittering peacock! What a difference between the sack-like smock, with its absurd embroidery of stitching, and the bright-hued habiliments of Spain—the spencer of cloth, or velveteen, with sparkling buttons upon the breast, and sash of gay color hanging jauntily over the hip!
But the contrast does not end with the costume. It is alike observable in the air and action of the wearers; in pose, step, and gesture. The laborer of Bucks salutes you with a stiff and straight pluck at his forelock, as if the laws of curvature were contrary to the laws of the land; while with him of Iberian breed the Hogarthian curve is illustrated in every movement.
It would be curious to speculate on the cause of this remarkable dissimilarity between Teutonic and Latinic grace. It is, perhaps, mental rather than physical, springing from a socio-political origin. But this is a question too deep for a slight sketch of customs and manners, such as is here designed.
Be the cause what it may, the effect is the same on both sides of the Atlantic. The change of sky, so far from modifying the contrast between the two races, seems rather to have intensified it.
The "poor white" of Kentucky, in his "copperas coat" and coarse, cow-skin boots, is, in point of elegance, as far removed from the "guapo" peasant of Spanish America, as the smock-clad clodhopper of Bucks from the "majo" of Madrid or Seville.
Perhaps in no part of Spanish America does this grace of the Romaic race display itself in greater perfection than in Mexico; and nowhere in Mexico more than among the Jarochos.
Reader, do I anticipate your question: Who are the "Jarochos?"
If so, I shall endeavor to answer it, drawing my answer from an experience among this peculiar people, extending to some months spent in their country. Before going farther, permit me to give you the correct pronunciation of his name. Turn the initial J into an H; soften the ch in the last syllable, and call him "Ha-ro-tsho." He will then understand you.
Why he is so designated even I, who have enjoyed his hospitality and taken part with him in his sports, cannot tell. I only know that he calls himself a "Jarocho," and is so styled by the Mexican people who dwell in the cities.
