Gender Disparities in Guaraní Knowledge, Literacy, and Fashion in the Ecological Borderlands of Colonial and Early Nineteenth-Century Paraguay

Abstract

This essay analyzes the gender disparities in Guaraní education and literacy in the province of Paraguay during the colonial era through the mid-nineteenth century, based on original Guaraní texts and other archival sources, including school censuses and Guaraní schoolwork. The use of the Native language, in written and spoken forms, proved to be a contentious issue in Paraguay, reflecting the cultural resiliency of the Guaraní, the forces of cultural domination, and the relationship between education, literacy, and gender. Fashion is an element in this analysis as well, because the types of clothing worn reflected the Guaraníes’ changing sense of identity. While the Jesuits encouraged the study and use of the Guaraní language in the mission schools, Bourbon language reforms altered education in the missions in the mid-eighteenth century by the requirements of the colonial state to teach the Guaraní Spanish. Nonetheless, there was a degree of tolerance to the use of the Native language so that the Guaraní could understand their lessons. However, there was no formal education in Paraguay for women and girls until after 1856.

During my memorable interview and visit in 1991 to the village of Acaray-mí in a remote area of Alto Paraná on the Paraguayan-Brazilian border, an Avá-Chiripá shaman and cacique emphasized to me that “he has entire books in his head.” My former Paraguayan professor of philosophy of history at the Universidad Católica Nuestra Señora de la Asunción and Director of the Centro de Estudios Antropológicos, Dr. Adriano Irala Burgos, had arranged for me to interview two shamans and village elders with the assistance of a graduate student who had resided two years among them and who spoke their same language variant, which is distinctive from the Guaraní (known as yoporá) spoken by most Paraguayans today. While on other occasions, I had traveled by automobile, bus, or on horseback to visit twenty-two of the former thirty Jesuit missions in the borderland region of Paraguay, northern Argentina, and southern Brazil, on this trip, I walked over two hours through the forests and across shallow muddy creeks and fields in heavy rain and thunderstorms first to set up an appointment for the interviews, which took place under the same climatic conditions the following day. From this experience, I realized the importance of Native religion, artisanry, and mythology in the everyday lives of the Guaraní, rooted in their natural surroundings, from the lighting of their campfires in their modest wooden homes, carving of sacred animals, to the location of their villages constructed near pindó palm trees. The Avá-Chiripá belong to the linguistic family of the Tupí-Guaraní.

Anthropologists recently uncovered evidence that the Tupí-Guaraní among other Indigenous peoples of the Amazonian region and tropical lowland areas of South America had vast knowledge of plant and landscape domestication, including village gardens, orchards, and forests well before the arrival of Europeans in South America in the early sixteenth century (Clement & Denevan, 2015; Moore, 2014). While the Tupí-Guaraní societies were sophisticated, they did not develop a writing system independently of Europeans. Instead, strong oral traditions were an integral part of their culture. Traditional knowledge has been passed down from one generation to another through the telling of stories and education, both in a Native school where an Indigenous teacher instructs in accordance with the Paraguayan Ministry of Education, and by parents, village elders, traditional healers, caciques, and other family members.

This essay analyzes the gender disparities in Guaraní education and literacy in the province of Paraguay based on original Guaraní texts and other archival sources, including school censuses and Guaraní schoolwork, during the colonial era through the mid-nineteenth century (see Fig. 6.1). Native sources are vital for helping us understand which social values, technologies, and material goods the Indigenous peoples accepted or rejected from the Europeans. For the nineteenth century, in addition to these sources, traveler accounts provide impressions of Paraguayan women’s education. Fashion is an element in this analysis as well because the types of clothing worn reflected the Guaraníes’ changing sense of identity. Decisions over what the Guaraní wore became a critical part of the strategies employed by missionaries and Spanish officials to make the Indigenous people conform to their notion of what was proper behavior and dress. By learning Spanish in the schools rather than their Native language and adopting European-style clothing, the Guaraní became negotiators of change in their identities and gender norms. Their adoption of the technology of writing was part of a complex process of transculturation, meaning that the Guaraní invented new traditions from the materials or elements introduced to them by a more dominant European culture, and selected those which served to be beneficial (Ganson, 2003; Wilde, 2019). Their use of the Native language, whether in written form or spoken, however, proved to be a contentious issue in Paraguay, reflecting the cultural resiliency of the Guaraní, the forces of cultural domination, and the relationship between education, literacy, and gender.

Fig. 6.1

Source: Library of Congress, Geography and Map Division. Ovalle, A. D., Techo, N. D. & Homann Erben. (1733) Typus geographicus, Chili, Paraguay Freti Magellanici &c. [Norib. i.e. Nuremberg: Editoribus Homannianis Heredibus]. Map retrieved from the Library of Congress, https://www.loc.gov/item/2004629179/

Map of colonial Paraguay, 1733,

Early Franciscan and Jesuit missionaries first introduced reading and writing using a Roman or Latin alphabet to the Guaraní (with emphasis on the sons of chiefs and members of the nobility) in the early seventeenth century. However, only Native boys attended mission schools for instruction (see Fig. 6.2). Scribbling of the alphabet on wet clay tiles that were made in workshops for church roofs and floors, and the inscription of the names, ages, and dates of the deceased on gravestones in Guaraní and Spanish may indicate that missionaries educated male children in general, although the missionaries concentrated on the education of the sons of elites (Ganson Fieldwork Notes, 1990–1991).

Fig. 6.2

List of pupils in the school in the town of San Luis and their ages, November 13, 1799. Source: “Lista de los jovenes de la Escuela del Pueblo de San Luis y sus edades, 13 de noviembre de 1799, AGN Buenos Aires, IX 18-2-4)

Patriarchal beliefs that men were superior lay at the core of Catholic teachings in these missionary enterprises, which served as primary institutions of European colonization. Missionaries concentrated on the education of male children who would then teach their parents and play influential roles in their communities. Boys learned how to read and write and do mathematics, including multiplication and the adding of fractions. Peruvian Jesuit Antonio Ruiz de Montoya (1585–1652) observed how the Guaraní were highly capable in mechanical matters, and served as excellent carpenters, blacksmiths, tailors, weavers, and shoemakers. He also found them “remarkably attached to the music in which the fathers instructed the chiefs’ sons, along with reading and writing” (Ruiz de Montoya, 2017, p. 229). Every Sunday, the Guaraní in the missions celebrated the Mass with choral music and fine musical instruments. The Guaraní, Ruiz de Montoya noted, carried harps and other instruments with which they celebrated the spiritual deity, personified as the Christian God, on their festive days. The Guaraní played a range of instruments, including violins, clarinets, bassoons, cornets, and oboes, which helped to attract new converts and make them desire to have the Jesuits enter their lands so that they could teach their children. Early Jesuits themselves learned vital survival skills and knowledge about the environment, such as herbal medicine and cures for snakebites, which the Native peoples had acquired through trial and error and passed down through oral traditions over the course of several centuries in the tropical lowlands of the greater Paraguayan basin. Missionaries trained Guaraní men to serve as militia officers and soldiers, river boat sailors, printers, sculptors, scribes, blacksmiths, pottery-makers using a potter’s wheel, as well as ranchers in the handling of livestock, among many other skills. The division of labor by gender required that men often work further afield, such as in the gathering of yerba maté before its domestication in the mid-seventeenth century and on the ranches, in workshops, and in other tasks that required their periodic absence from the missions.

Jesuit and Franciscan missionaries limited the educational experiences of Guaraní women and girls, apart from religious instruction and the making of thread, clothing, and in some villages, Paraguayan lace (ñandutí meaning “spiderweb” lace) using European-style looms. While Guaraní women planted and harvested a wide variety of crops, formal female education and labor were largely relegated to performing domestic chores, taking care of children, along with transporting water and wood, and the spinning of cotton and wool thread for the making of clothing for their families, and pottery-making using the coil method but without use of a pottery wheel at a workshop. The term hilandera (a female weaver) appears in the dictionaries and vocabularies, which suggests that the proper work for women was weaving of cloth and making of clothing in the missions. Guaraní women learned to spin thread on spinning wheels, winding off bobbins of yarn from the spool into a ball (Ganson, 2003). Spanish women who resided in Asunción, “were known to be experts with the needle” by an early chronicler and noted how Guaraní and mestiza women learned how to make lace (ñandutí or spiderweb lace) using fine threads and needles brought from Europe. They designed lace patterns fashioned after Native floral and animal designs, such as coconut flower, fish bone, guava flower, and corn flower (Sixteenth-century chronicler Ruy Díaz de Guzmán quoted in Félix de Azara, and Plá, 1969). Women’s roles became evident in the early phase of Spanish settlement in Paraguay, providing a context for examining female literacy among both Hispanic and Guaraní populations. In 1556 in Asunción, Doña Isabel de Guevara who was literate and one of the most influential women in the viceroyalty of Peru petitioned the crown for her encomienda (grant of Indigenous laborers) to remain in perpetuity. She described how Spanish women had served as sentinels, cooked, and fed the troops what little food that was available, washed clothes, collected firewood, nursed the sick, and buried the dead when the men became so weak. After one thousand of the original 1500 Spaniards on Pedro de Mendoza’s expedition had perished, mainly due to starvation, the remaining Spaniards traveled in two brigantines to Asunción in 1537, where initially Spanish women cleared fields, and planted and harvested the crops, according to her account (Lockhart, 1994; Lockhart & Otte, 1976). More than a hundred Spanish women joined the early conquerors by leaving Seville in 1550 on a Spanish expedition headed by Doña Mencía de Calderon and her eighteen-year-old son, Diego. Their caravel ran aground off the Brazilian island of Santa Catalina. Shipwrecked, the Spaniards constructed a new vessel and proceeded north to the port of São Francisco do Sul where after being held in prison, a Portuguese governor released them and provided them with food, cattle, clothing, guns, and other supplies, which enabled them to arrive at their destination in Asunción in 1556 (Cruz, 1960). Spanish women dedicated a good part of their day to spinning cotton, weaving cloth, and making lace. In addition to weaving the rough fibers of a variety of wild pineapple (caraguatá), cocoanut trees, and other Native fibers (yviraí), as Indigenous women had practiced, Spanish women instructed the Guaraní and mestiza women how to make a lace using fine threads.

There is some controversy in the historical literature over the extent of education and literacy of Guaraní women and girls. Paraguayan historian Olinda Massare de Kostianovsky in La instrucción publica en la época colonial (1975) contends that boys learned to read and write and do mathematics, while girls were educated in cooking and weaving and other subjects apart from the boys and at different times. While it may be clear that the missionaries taught catechism, there appears to be no evidence of literate Guaraní women and girls who were instructed to read and write and do mathematics. On the other hand, French scholar Capucine Boidin and Argentine authors Leonardo Cerno and Fabián R. Vega, in an engaging new article “This Book is Your Book: Jesuit Editorial Policy and Individual Indigenous Reading in Eighteenth-Century Paraguay” (2020), suggest women and girls may have learned to read devotional books in their Native language based on an introduction in a text written in Guaraní by a Jesuit that was to be made available in print for the Indigenous people. This evidence appears thin, but these authors did very carefully qualify their statement. This, of course, does not preclude Guaraní women and girls from learning to read on their own by taking an interest in the schoolwork of their respective sons, brothers, or spouses or receiving instruction from their male children in the evenings, but there is no hard or direct evidence of Guaraní female literacy.

It is important to examine the disparity in Guaraní women’s and girls’ education within the broader context of female education in the province of Paraguay. Indeed, the absence of formal education of Guaraní women and girls was not all that distinctive from that of mestiza, black, and mulatta women and girls in the province. In 1598 Dominican abbess Francisca Jesusa Pérez de Bocanegra founded an orphanage and a women’s shelter (a type of boarding school or housing for women that was distinctive from a nunnery in that women did not take strict religious vows) in Asunción called the Casa de Huérfanas y Recogidas. The residence was a workshop rather than any type of school. The residence was constructed in Asunción on land belonging to the Governor Hernando Arias de Saavedra. Between sixty and one hundred orphans and young women resided there. Many had been the “daughters of honorable Spaniards who lost their lives in the conquest of the province,” but mestiza and mulatta women and girls lived there, as well. Residents spun thread and made cloth to earn a living and could increase their dowry, which may have improved their chances for marriage. When the abbess died in 1617, the institution was closed because no one replaced her. In 1650 there was an attempt to reestablish the orphanage or women’s shelter, but it failed due to an epidemic (type not indicated) in Asunción. Some Spanish women nonetheless learned to read and write on their own in their homes (Olinda Massare de Kostianovsky, 1975).

Lacking a formal education, Indigenous, mulatta, and mestiza women were not without influence of their own, however, and their many voices appear in judicial records or through those who wrote letters on their behalf or confirmed their oral testimonies. In an extensive judicial record referring to a love triangle and cases of adultery in a former Jesuit town of Jesús, Margarita Arandí, a married Guaraní woman whose husband had abandoned her and fled from the missions, had Gregorio Pahaya confirm the accuracy of her testimony by signing his name on her behalf. Guaraní women clearly understood the power of the written word but had to use literate Guaraní men to express their points of view or testimonies (Ganson, 2020).

A request by a Guaraní woman to have a letter written in the Native language in defense of her late son further illustrates the literacy gap between men and women. On September 20, 1803, María Rosa Aripuy, along with her daughter Rosa Guarapey, on behalf of her late son Juliano Tariqui from Mission Corpus Christi (now Misiones, Argentina) explained to the members of the cabildo (town council which was composed of Guaraní), including the corregidor (head official), that she expressed great concern and regret over what happened to him. Juliano Tariqui had insulted a Spaniard, Don Teodoro Flores, while rounding up cattle, having been replaced by the new overseer. She also expressed concern about what may happen to Teodoro given the grief or nightmare he now caused his parents. However, she did not hold him entirely responsible for the death of her son, perhaps having knowledge of her son’s strong will. María Rosa Aripuy explained she did not know how to sign her name and asked the secretary of the town council to sign in her place (Carta al Corregidor y Cabildo de Corpus, 1803, María Rosa Aripuy, in Guaraní and transliteration in Lenguas generales de América del Sur, https://www.langas.cnrs.fr/#/consulter_corpus/liste/1).

#1

Candelaria 19 de abril de 1806.

Mission Candelaria, April 19, 1806.

2

Hae che María Rosa Arĭpĭi co taba Corpus rayĭ hae Libre cherecobae;

Ha’e che María Rosa Arypýi ko Táva Corpus rajy ha’e libre che reko va’e;

Yo María Rosa Arypýi, natural de este pueblo de Corpus, libre

I, María Rosa Arypýi, of the town of Corpus, a free person

3

Juliano Tariquĭ cĭ, amĭrȋ

Juliano Tariquy sy, amyrĩ

y Madre del finado Julián Ty[by] riqui

and mother of the late Julián Ty[by] riqui

4

ambohupiguaha co quatiapĭpe che ñeȇ, cherubicha Corregid.or hae Cavildo robaque

ambohupiguaha ko kuatia pype che ñe’ẽ che ruvicha Corregidor ha’e Cabildo rovake

hago presente en este Papel mi verdad ante mis superiores el Correg.or y Cabildo

present this truthful letter before my superiors, the Corregidor and the members of the town council.

5

ndarecoihaba mbae amo ayerure baerȃma Caray Teodoro Flores amboajebaecue rehe

ndarekói háva mba’e amo ajerure va’erãma karai Theodoro Flores amboaje va’ekue rehe,

diciendo qe no tengo que pedir contra D. Teodoro Flores,

saying that I ask nothing against Don Teodoro Flores

6

hey haguerami chebe chemembĭ amĭrȋ ymanoeỹmobe

he’i hague rami chéve che memby amyrĩ imano e’ỹmove

por lo que este Cometio como melo dijo mi difunto hijo antes de morir diciéndome que

because of the crime he had committed against my deceased son who before he died said

7

aniche hagua maramobe che mandua hagua co teco rehe

aníche haguã maramove che mandu’a haguã ko teko rehe;

no me acordase de lo que pasa respecto a que

he had no recollection with regards to what had happened

8

Caray ray̆ raco nomboayei che reche hemimbota rupi, co teco oyehuha che rehe;

karai ra’y rako nomboajéi che rehe hemimbota rupi, ko teko ojehuha che rehe;

el moso referido no hizo lo que ha hecho conmigo por su propio motivo,

the young man in question did not do what he did for his own reasons.

9

che raco aheca baecue tenondebe,

che rako aheka va’ekue tenondeve,

pues yo fui quien lo busque,

well, I was the one who was went looking (for trouble?).

10

hae rȃmo tupȃ ñandeyara ynĭro hagua chebe, che angaipapague rehe,

ha’e ramo Tupã Ñandejára iñyrõ haguã chéve, che angaipa pague rehe

y para que Dios me perdone todos mis pecados,

and may God forgive me for all my sins.

11

hae Caray ray̆ Teodoro upe animo Justicia óàhoce co teco rehe

ha’e karai ra’y Theodoro upe anímo justicia oahose ko teko rehe

y para que las Justicias no caigan sobre el moso Dn Teodoro

and so that the authorities do not fall hard on the young man Don Teodoro.

12

hae tinĭrȏte chebe ayehu hagua tupȃ robaque amboyequaa ndebe

ha’e tiñyrõte chéve ajehu haguã Tupã rovake ambojekuaa ndéve

le pido perdon paraq.e asi pueda aparecer ante Dios, lo que asi le hago presente,

I ask pardon so that when God appears, this will occur.

13

ndoyehui ramo yepe che rembireco co ára che robaque

ndojehúi ramo jepe che rembireko ko ára che rovake

sin embargo de no hallarse hoy presente mi Muger

Nonetheless, not finding my woman is present.

14

ahenduca yoapĭ hagua ychupe hae ramo omboaye hagua

ahenduka joapy haguã ichupe ha’e ramo omboaje haguã,

para que asi se lo haga presente paraq.e ambas hagan presente esto mismo

so that in this manner in that both being present this same thing occurs.

15

ñanderubichaupe pemee hagua co quatia Caray Theodoro ruba upe yñĭrȏ hagua chebe, hae rȃmi; cherubicha reta orȏmboayebo chemembĭ ñȇengue oromeebo co quatia penderobaque tupȃ ñandeyara tiñĭrote chemembi upe hae ñandebe abe

ñande ruvicha upe peme’ẽ haguã ko kuatia karai Theodoro rúva upe, iñyrõ haguã chéve, ha’e rami; che ruvicha reta oromboajévo che memby ñe’ẽngue orome’ẽvo ko kuatia pende rovake Tupã Ñandejára tinyrõte che memby upe ha’e ñandéve ave

al padre de Teodoro para que esté igualm.te me perdone y para cumplir con lo que mi hijo nos dejo dicho damos ante Vuestra Merced este Papel

to the father of Teodoro so that equally forgive me and so fulfill what my son had said in presence of your grace, this letter.

16

hae rami oroyerure ñande Rey recobia upe omoiha corupi ñandebe yporoquaita marȃngatu omboayehagua

ha’e rami orojerure ñande Rey rekovia upe omoĩha kórupi ñandéve iporokuaita marãngatu omboaje haguã;

y pedimos al que representa al Rey en estos destinos

and we ask that of who represents the king for this purpose.

17

aniche hagua oahoce hagua coteco rehe Caray Theodoro Flores upe,

aniche haguã oahose haguã ko teko rehe Karai Theodoro Flores upe,

para que por esta Causa no sea perseguido el Español Teodoro Flores,

so that this does not lead to the Spaniard Teodoro Flores being pursued.

18

orohecha yepe Che rubicha orȏmboacĭ guazuha coteco oyehuhague chemembĭrehe,

orohecha jepe che ruvicha oromboasy guasuha ko teko ojehu hague che memby rehe,

sin embargo, de que hemos sentido mucho este suceso que le ha pasado à mi hijo,

Nonetheless, we have greatly felt awful about what had happened to my son.

19

haete hae rami abe oromboacĭ guazuete Caray Theodoro rehe

ha’ete ha’e rami ave oromboasy guasuete karai Theodoro rehe

pero mucho más sentimos el que se bea así el Español Teodoro

but even more so, we feel the same way as to what happened to the Spaniard Teodoro.

20

oyehu hague coteco hece ombopĭa poriahubo ocĭ hae ytuba upe

ojehu hague ko teko hese ombopy’a poriahúvo osy ha’e itúva upe

por la pesadumbre que ha dado a su Padre y a su Madre

for the nightmare he has caused his father and mother

21

co iporerequaetei bae ñanderehe hae ñanderubarȃmo yarecobae

ko iporerequa eteí va’e ñande rehe ha’e ñande rúva ramo jareko va’e,

que tanto nos cuida

and those who look after us.

22

hae cobae mbohobaibo che rubicha oromee co quatia ymopĭata hagua ore ñee ndoroiquai ramo yepe Orerera oromboguapĭhagua tomboaye Orerehe Secretario de Cavildo co ara 20 de sept.e 1803.

ha’e ko va’e mbohováivo che ruvicha orome’ẽ ko kuatia imopyatã haguã ore ñe’ẽ ndoroikuaái ramo jepe ore réra oromboguapy haguã tomboaje ore rehe Secretario de Cabildo ko ára 20 de septiembre de 1803.

y para que tenga más valor y fuerza lo q

ue decimos dando este papel y porque no sabemos firmar pedimos lo haga el secretario a nro nombre, hoy 20 de septiembre de 1803.

So that with courage and strength, we state this, presenting this letter and because we do not know how to sign, we ask the secretary to do so in our name, today 20 September 1803.

23

Oromboyequaa Ore Correg.or hae Cavildo

Oromboajekuaa ore Corregidor ha’e Cabildo

Y nos el Corregidor y Cavildo Certificamos

And the Corregidor and cabildo certify.

24

hupiguarete heco haba opacó quatia pĭpe

hupigua rete heko háva opa ko kuatia pype

ser cierto quanto expone en este papel

be certain with regards to what is exposed or pointed out in this letter.

25

hey orerayĭ

he’i va’e ore rajy

nra hija

our daughter

26

yyayebaecue Caray Theodoro Flores rehe

ijaje va’ekue karai Theodoro Flores rehe

en lo sucedido con Teodoro Flores

with regards to what happened with Teodoro Flores.

27

oromondo ramo ore Estanciape Baca pĭcĭbo hae Capatas pĭahu mboguapĭbo

oromondo ramo ore estánciape vaka pysývo ha’e capataz pyahu mboguapývo

quando lo mandamos à nuestra estancia à coger ganado y a poner un capataz nuebo,

when we sent him to the ranch to round up cattle and install a new foreman.

28

hae uperȃmo yyaye co teco oñemotȋe’ỹbo ore ray̆ Juliano Caray Theodoro upe hae cobae orombohupiguarȃmo

ha’e upe ramo ijaje ko teko oñemotie’ỹvo ore ra’y Juliano karai Theodoro upe ha’e ko va’e orombohupigua ramo,

en cuyo tiempo fue quando nro hijo Julián le insultó a dho Teodoro, y sea verdad todo lo referido damos la presente q.t

at which time our son Julián insulted Teodoro, and this be the truth to what we present.

29

oromeȆ co quatia hae omboguapĭ orerera heche ore Secretario de Cavildo ndoroiquai ramo oroyapo hagua.

orome’ẽ ko kuatia ha’e omboguapy ore réra hese ore Secretario de Cabildo ndoroikuaá ramo orojapo haguã.

firmamos ante Nuestro Secretario de Cavildo los que sabemos fha ut supra.

We sign before the secretary of the town council, those who know how to.

30

M.a Rosa Arĭpĭi ymembĭ Rosa Guarape

Maria Rosa Arypýi, imemby Rosa Guarape

A ruego de María Rosa Arypýi y de su hija Rosa Guarapey

At the request of María Rosa Arypýi and her daughter Rosa Guarapey

31

Norberto Añengara [Al]cale de 2º voto

Norberto Añengara [Al]calde 2º voto

Norberto Añengara, Alcalde de Segundo voto

Norberto Añengara, mayor of second vote.

32

Fermín Aguaiy, secreo de Cavildo

Fermín Aguaiy Secretario de Cabildo.

Fermín Aguaiy Secretario de Cabildo

Fermín Aguaiy Secretary of the town council.

33

Antonio Morales

Translation from Guarani and transliteration by Bartomeu Melià, S.J., Capucine Boidin and Angelica Otazu Melgarejo, (April 2013); https://www.langas.cnrs.fr/#/consulter_corpus/liste/1

Guaraní letter presented by Barbara Ganson and English trans. (2012). Manuscrito de la traducción al castellano reproducido en Archivo Nacional de Asunción, Documentos en guaraní, 2006. Source: SCyJ. Vol. 1388. Fol. 63–64.

Colonial Legacies for Literacy in the Early Republic of Paraguay

A cursory reading of women’s wills from the Archivo Nacional de Asunción indicates that Paraguayan women often did not know how to sign their names. The 1838 will of Manuela Ayala, a childless widow who may have been a mestizo from the village of Luque near Asunción indicated that her late husband had left some land to orphan nieces that the couple had raised and educated since the age of eight. However, she had no money but left them some additional land and each a pair of oxen. Since she did not know how to sign her name on her will, three witnesses signed on her behalf. Another female head of household, on the other hand, María Dorotea Aguero, a widow of a rancher in Aparipí and mother of four children, described her property, including more than 800 head of cattle, a female African slave, furniture, linen, dishes, and clothing in her will that she signed (ANA, vol. 501, no. 6, 1840). This pattern of women’s illiteracy in Paraguay is not unlike other parts of Spanish America, such as in Yucatán, Mexico, where an extensive collection of women’s writings in Spanish, including petitions, letters, and notarial documents from Mexico’s Archivo General de la Nación has been recently uncovered. More letters came from the upper echelons of society, but some letters were written on behalf of women of modest means and backgrounds (Lentz & Goode, 2022).

It is still unknown how many or what percentage of the Guaraní population became literate in the Guaraní language or Spanish. The evidence suggests that literacy rates were extremely low. Caciques and members of Indigenous town councils often indicated that they did not know how to sign their own names; they signed documents with an X. Nonetheless, among Guaraní migrants who lived in Buenos Aires and Santa Fé in the 1750s Jesuits noted how the Guaraní kept in touch with events in the mission towns “through the letters they received” from other Guaraní in the missions (Nusdorffer, 1753).

Changes in the language policy of the Spanish crown undoubtedly had a negative impact on the Guaraní learning how to read and write in their Native language. In 1743 the Spanish crown ordered Spanish to be taught, encouraging the eradication of Native languages spoken in the Spanish American Empire. The king of Spain specifically ordered the provincial of the Society of Jesus in Paraguay to teach Spanish to Indian children that same year. Nevertheless, the Jesuits found it nearly impossible to put this decree into effect because the Tupí-Guaraní language was so widely spoken, not only in the missions but in the entire province of Paraguay, including Spanish towns, and served as a lingua franca in Brazil. Following a tour of the province in 1744, the Bishop of Paraguay Jose Cayetano Parvicino, observed: “The customs and language of the Spaniards born here as well as that of Negros and mulattoes of which there are many, is that of the Indians, with few differences” (Cayetano Paravacino, 1744). A Jesuit observed: “In Paraguay, many have forgotten the Spanish language and adopted that of the Indians, which they use in their homes in the towns and in the rural areas where many live, as in the towns, and where no one knows another language other than that of the Indians” (Cardiel, 1994). Boys, he noted, studied Spanish in the schools, but did not know it well and were punished if they spoke their Native Guaraní language. As soon as school was out, the boys would again speak Guaraní. Few females, he observed, knew how to speak Spanish because girls never studied the language in the schools.

The crown circulated a similar decree in 1760, encouraging the eradication of the diverse languages spoken in the Spanish Empire and requiring that only Spanish be spoken. Charles III ordered that the “Indians be taught the dogmas of our religion in Spanish and … to read and write in this language only…in order to improve administration and the spiritual well-being of the natural ones (Indians) and so that they can understand their superiors, love the conquering nation, rid themselves of idolatry, and become civilized” (Cédula Real, 1760). The Guaraní resisted this change in language policy. The missionaries explained that the Guaraní “expressed a certain love toward what was their own,” their Native language. The Guaraní in Franciscan missions in the central region of the province also were reluctant to learn Spanish. In 1744, according to José Cayetano, the bishop of Paraguay, following a visit to the missions, the Guaraní “prefer to be punished, rather than learn the rational language (Spanish)” (Visita de Obispo José Cayetano, 1744).

Following the Jesuit expulsion from Spanish America in 1767, when they were administering 88,864 souls in thirty missions among the Guaraní in the province of Paraguay, the administration of the missions no longer remained entirely in the hands of Catholic missionaries. Franciscans, Mercedarians, and Dominicans were assigned to look after the spiritual welfare of the Guaraní. Beginning in the early 1780s, creole administrators hired Spanish teachers to instruct male children in the Christine doctrine, how to count, and how to read and write in the Spanish language in the mission schools. The creole administrator, the Guaraní corregidor, and members of the Indigenous town council were to provide a large house for the schoolteachers, along with the same provisions that administrators received, aside from their salaries. They were supposed to be given a list of the boys in the town over the ages of four or five, and their type of occupation they may have been employed, such as the weaving of textiles or whether they were altar boys or the priests’ helpers or assistants. The male children of caciques were to receive instruction in reading and writing and learning how to count with preference and with greater urgency because they would be expected to assume positions within their Indigenous communities. There were Guaraní teachers of primary education as well, who were responsible for the teaching of music and dance under the guidance or supervision of the Spanish teacher and the Catholic priest.

In 1783, the viceroy in Buenos Aires determined that instruction was to be given in Spanish but with the use of Guaraní under the notion that Guaraní instruction was necessary to understand Spanish and with the intention that the male children would speak Spanish with more frequency in the schools. The viceroy also insisted that prizes be handed out every six months to those pupils who speak Spanish. These prizes consisted of various yards of cloth that could be made into clothing, most likely by their mothers. One of the duties of the schoolteacher was to ensure that male children wore clothing and not run around naked. Schoolteachers were to ensure girls who came to recite prayers and attend Mass, especially on religious holidays, were to be dressed decently (with “honestidad”) be washed or clean. For this reason, it was important for the schoolteacher to maintain a list of all the girls and the boys as provided by the corregidor and the secretary of the town council. The Spaniards placed emphasis on cleanliness of the Guaraní, including looking after their appearance and being well groomed (Pueblo de Concepción, 1786). The use of the Guaraní language to facilitate the comprehension of Spanish is notable; there was no mention of children being punished for speaking their Native language. Beginning in the late eighteenth century, however, Spanish became the language of the schools.

Teachers kept track of the ability of their male Guaraní pupils who knew how to read and write in long hand, mastered the art of printing, or were still learning and practicing the alphabet (see Fig. 6.3). As far as mathematics was concerned, teachers taught the Guaraní boys the basics of addition, subtraction, and multiplication. Finally, the Guaraní studied Christian doctrine, and recited their prayers in two languages, Spanish and Guaraní (Bernardo Gonzalo, Pueblo Real de Nuestra Señora de la Concepción, November 12, 1799, AGN, Buenos Aires, IX 18-2-4). In part, when it came to religious doctrine, therefore, these were bilingual schools, although there was preference for the use of Spanish. Interestingly, Spanish creole and members of Indigenous town councils learned that it was not beneficial to establish or open schools in certain missions in times of epidemics, which seemed to appear in clusters of different towns.

Fig. 6.3

The Aptitude, Talent, and Ability of Pupils Enrolled in the Primary School in the town of Yapeyú, November 12, 1799, “Escuela de Primera Letras del Pueblo Yapeyú,” AGN Buenos Aires IX 18-2-4

In 1786, we learn from Gonzalo Doblas, the lieutenant governor of the Department of Concepción, that at the mission of San Carlos, there were 25 boys between the ages 6 and 13 who attended school. Each pupil received a notebook (cartilla) and the mission had 84 notebooks in their warehouse. No teacher had been appointed to teach at San José (Josef); no school had been established there, even though the mission had an equal number of boys as San Carlos; nor were there any notebooks available in their warehouse. An epidemic had broken out in Apóstles, which prevented the establishment of a school until the virus subsided; there were no notebooks in their warehouse. Mission Concepción had 50 or 60 boys but no Spanish schoolteacher. An Indian teacher was present; their warehouse had 168 notebooks. Mission Santos Mártires had 31 boys between the ages of 6 and 13 who were provided with notebooks; 84 notebooks remained in their warehouse. At Santa María la Mayor, the epidemic took the lives of many of the schoolboys; there were 49 boys between ages 5 and 11, but their warehouses lacked notebooks. In the town of San Francisco Xavier, there was a school with 50 pupils between ages 5 and 12; there were 23 notebooks (Bernardo Gonzalo, Pueblo Real de Nuestra Señora de la Concepción, November 12, 1799, AGN, Buenos Aires, IX 18-2-4).

Schoolwork from the 1790s provides further evidence that only Guaraní boys were learning to read and write in Spanish. Female children did not author or sign any of the schoolwork from Santa María la Mayor, Santa Rosa, Santo Angelo, San Luis, San Cosme, San Borja, San Francisco Xavier, Nuestra Señora de la Concepción, Santos Mártires del Japón, San Carlos, San José, Santo Tomé, San Borja, and San Luis submitted to the governor in Buenos Aires in 1795 for first, second, and third prize, usually consisting of samples of fine penmanship and occasionally mathematical problems. Lists of Guaraní pupils from 1799 and of those who could print or write in long hand indicate that no female children attended mission schools. All the names on the lists of pupils in mission schools in Apóstoles, San Nicolás, Santo Angelo, San Luis, and San Juan Bautista in 1799 were those of male Guaraní children.

For those Guaraní pupils who competed for prizes demonstrated fine penmanship, along with some knowledge of Christine doctrine, proper etiquette, and the willingness to praise King Charles IV and the royal family. Miguel Yaribu, first prize winner from mission San Carlos, expressed good wishes to King Charles IV (1748–1819) for his birthday and hoped the king lived a long and happy life, along with Donã Luisa de Borbón (1780–1846) and the Prince of Asturias Don Fernando (1784–1833) (Miguel Yaribu al Rey, November 11, 1799, AGN, Buenos Aires, IX 18-2-1.). His schoolwork underscores the process of transculturation, that is, accepting selected elements of European culture that proved beneficial. First, second, and third prize winners received yards of cloth or actual items of clothing, such as wool ponchos and a straw hat, for their submissions. Others who demonstrated knowledge of the Spanish language but did not receive a prize, still received items of clothing or rosaries, as did the Native teacher’s aides (ayudantes de la escuela).

All the mission towns had ample numbers of books from the libraries that had belonged to the Catholic missionaries for advanced pupils who knew how to read. There were pupils, Gonzalo Doblas insisted, who could read well and demonstrate their ability to write through exercising good penmanship. Guaraní boys initially practiced learning how to print on small tablets made of wood. Later they wrote on leather hides and then on paper, if they wrote in long hand or using script; the supply of paper was low in the missions (Provincia de Buenos Aires, 1786).

By the end of the eighteenth century, several Guaraní had become competent writers in Spanish. One became a Catholic priest, Francisco Javier Tubichpotá, the son of a cacique from the Mercedarian mission of Santiago. At age thirteen, he entered the Real Colegio Seminario de San Carlos in Asunción, as the legitimate son of lieutenant corregidor Estanislao Tubichapotá and María Solome Araquí. His father brought him to study there and offered to pay for his own room and board, using funds from the mission. The bishop of Paraguay decreed that he should be admitted to the colegio (seminary) “to serve as an example.” Tubichapotá studied Latin, philosophy, and theology from 1789 to 1800. He was probably better educated than most of the Spaniards and mestizos in Paraguay. To attend the Real Colegio Seminario, one had to demonstrate one’s limpieza de sangre (purity of blood), meaning that one had to be of the Indigenous nobility, baptized, confirmed, a legitimate son, and not mixed with a “baja esfera” (lower social group or section of society) (ANA, NE 844, Nicolás Obispo de Paraguay, 1806). In 1803, Tubichpotá was ordained a priest, having taken an examination to be fully ordained. He was assigned to work in a Native parish to work among neophytes. In 1800, Andrés Araro became a certified teacher of primary letters in his town of Apóstoles, having demonstrated his ability to read, write, and count, and knowledge of the Christian faith and the Spanish language. He earned a monthly salary of six pesos (Letter of Feliciano Cortez to the Ten. Govr.de Concepcion, April 22, 1800, AGN, Buenos Aires, IX 18-2-3.). Andrés Araro was one of two pupils from Apóstoles (the other was Juan Antonio Paraye) who had demonstrated and provided samples of their mathematical ability, including fractions, on November 10, 1795, for the governor of Buenos Aires (see Fig. 6.4).

Fig. 6.4

Mathematical Problems of Juan Antonio Paraye, Mission Apóstoles, “Trabajos de matemática,” November 10, 1795, AGN Buenos Aires, IX 18-2-1

Fashion and Social Standing Among the Guaraní

Fashion further underscores social differentiation and the patriarchic nature of colonial society. Lists of items of clothing from the Guaraní missions indicate that Guaraní men wore trousers, a loose shirt, a wool poncho in the winter, and maybe a straw hat. From an eighteenth-century Jesuit illustration of a mission town, including a drawing of Guaraní women in the coty guazú (women’s shelter or asylum), we know Guaraní women wore long white dresses or a chemise (typoí) or loose-fitting smock with a sash. A 1781 text in Guaraní, with a Spanish translation, provides further details about types of clothing by certain members of the Guaraní who resided in the former Jesuit mission of La Cruz (now in province of Corrientes, Argentina). The document indicates how social differentiation for males was made visible, based on their standing within their communities.

Documento de data de 40 pesos razón de las prendas de vestuarios subm. A los Comisarios y Peiones en el citado Pueblo de La Cruz, January 12, 1781. AGN IX 12-1-4 (Buenos Aires) A Guaraní text regarding clothing of the Comisarios and peones of the town of La Cruz, 1781, Provincia General de los Pueblos de Guaranís.

Exmo. Sr. Virrey:

Ore curuzu tava rehegua, orogue rubae cue hazienda oretavahegui oro moi mami, Administr.or General pope hae Oroicotebe anga Señor o neñemde-hagua mini rehe, tupa hae Rey marangatu rerapipe, o no yerunendebe, enemeeucahagua orebe. Oro ha ano nedepohegui co tupa mbae tupa nandeyara tandeo basa aranabo. Alcalde de primer voto y comionado, Miguel Chauy. Secretario Manuel Ñema.

Señor. El Administr.or General de los Pueblos en las misiones del Uruguay y Paraná en cumpliento del Ley decreto de V.E dize que el ….ha remite el Corregidor y Cavildo del Pueblo la Cruz se dirije a suplicar a se Digna mandar seles..prendas de vestuario….

January 11, 1781. The general administrator of the missions purchased the clothing needed for the town of La Cruz.

Five ponchos cordobeses

Five yards of blue cloth

Five dozen buttons

Five caps or hats made of plain cloth

Two caps or hats of Braga (?) superior.

Five knives

Six yards of cloth (pañete de Zapallanga?)

Nine yards of baieta de la tierra (local cloth?)

Those individuals who received more elaborate clothing or items, such as blue cloth, wool ponchos, tin buttons, and caps were the Alcalde de Primer Voto, Miguel Chau, and El Cacique Don Manuel Ñena. Others who received less elaborate clothing, cloth, and a poncho but no tin buttons were Norberto Chauy, Pedro Guachuca, and Miguel Guayaré. As could be expected, the more elaborate clothing was a sign of their position in society. We do know that from the Jesuits period, especially from the illustrations by Jesuit missionary Florian Baucke (or Paucke), those Guaraní who were militia soldiers and officers wore elaborate uniforms during military exercises in the main plaza of the missions. The list of items of clothing for these individuals reflect the basic hierarchal and patriarchal nature of mission society. There is no mention of elaborate clothing needed for the wives of the caciques or women in general, who wore long white cotton dresses from neck to foot. Mid-eighteenth-century drawings by Jesuit Florian Baucke, in contrast, show examples of elaborate headdresses, feathered caps, worn mostly like by the Indigenous nobility of the Rio de la Plata, and Indigenous commoners who wore no clothing while gathering wild honey from trees. Either Indigenous women had a tradition of wearing skirts or the Catholic missionary depicted them as wearing skirts and not much else, as they made hand-made pottery or used looms for the making of cloth (Paucke, 1973, 1999).

Fig. 6.5

Map of South America, 1822. This map was delineated and engraved by mapmaker Alexander McPherson (1796-1824). It was published February 1, 1822, by Sherwood Neely and Jones Paternester Row. Author’s Collection

Public Education in the Republic of Paraguay

Following the independence of Paraguay from the domination of Buenos Aires and Spanish royal authority in 1811, the first public schools were established during the reign of dictator Dr. José Gaspar Rodríguez de Francia (1814–1840) (see Fig. 6.5). Nonetheless, only male children received free elementary education. Boys studied arithmetic, grammar, and spelling in the Spanish language. In the pueblos de indios (Native towns) administrators paid teachers’ salaries using the funds belonging to the community. Various religious institutions provided a higher quality education for the sons of elites in Asunción, the male children of landowners, public officials, and merchants. The Real Colegio Seminario de San Carlos that trained boys to enter the priesthood offered three years of philosophy, four years of theology, and Latin. Religious education however suffered under Dr. Francia’s administration. In 1823, Dr. Francia, who scorned the religious orders and perceived the clergy as a threat to his power, closed the Seminario de San Carlos. Its teachers were fired, exiled, or imprisoned. On the other hand, in 1828, Dr. Francia required mandatory education for all young males, including free blacks and mulattoes. Thus, gender was more of a limiting factor or obstacle in securing a free public education than race, and ethnicity in Paraguay. The National Treasury assumed most of the responsibility for paying of teachers’ salaries and upkeep of the primary schools throughout the country. Dr. Francia himself sent supplies of paper and primers to the elementary schools, and even clothing for needy male pupils (Cooney, 1983). While Spanish was the language of instruction, its spread was reduced to the benefit of the Guaraní language by the isolationist policies of Dr. Francia, who disallowed foreign immigration and discouraged Spanish-speaking merchants from entering the country (Nickson, 2009).

Paraguay’s second prominent dictator Carlos Antonio López (1840–1862) expanded the number of primary schools to 408 and 16,755 pupils by 1857. By 1862, there were 435 schools with 24,524 pupils. Boys studied philosophy, civics, mathematics, history, geography, Spanish grammar, Latin, religion, and biology. Carlos Antonio López also sent several talented pupils for advanced study in engineering, education, law, medicine, and military science to Europe. One recalled having received four or five lashes for having spoken Guaraní at school (Centurión, 1948 quoted by A. Nickson). Female education remained largely nonexistent in Paraguay during this period. The writings of nineteenth-century travelers allow us to discern something of the specificities of gender difference, intertwined with social class in Paraguay. Foreign travelers noted that Paraguayan women were “utterly devoid of education, beyond reading and writing” (Mansfield, 1971). George F. Masterman in Seven Eventful Years in Paraguay: A Narrative of Personal Experience Amongst the Paraguayans (1870) observed that “women, except a few of the higher classes, are quite uneducated, so much so that it is rare to find one who can read and write. The men, however, nearly all do so” (Masterman, 1870). Masterman also described how every morning some four-to-five hundred women were engaged as vendors in the marketplace of Asunción. They road donkeys or drove carts loaded with corn, manioc, oranges, melons, wood, molasses, eggs, chickens, and other produce that might find a sale in the capital. The market women were said to have a smart and clean appearance, having exchanged their snowy white dresses (typóis) for ones that were white and clean, having walked some twenty miles the night before. Marguerite Dickins, the wife of a sea captain who visited cities along the coast of Brazil, the interior of Argentina, and Asunción described Native Paraguayan women who, along with their children, sold gourds or feather dusters, dressed in white cotton skirts and manta from head to foot (Dickins, 1893). Clearly, Paraguayan market women and street vendors played essential roles in the nineteenth-century economy (Graubart, 2007; Mangan, 2005). Given the widespread presence of mestizas and Indigenous women in the market towns of Paraguay, the basic teaching of mathematics that would have been of great value to the community. Basic accounting would have been a tool that the mestiza and Indigenous market women and street vendors would have had learned on their own through experience to carry out their transactions.

Educational reforms to benefit women and girls took place only during the second half of the nineteenth century. An 1856 census of the pupil population indicates that all the pupils who attended the Academia Literaria de la República del Paraguay (which later became the Colegio Nacional) were boys. All teachers and principals were men (UNESCO Microfilms of the Archivo Nacional de Asunción, vol. 226, 1844, December 11, 1843, documents 60–68). In 1856 Carmen Encina petitioned to open a public school for girls in the village of Caacupé (UNESCO Microfilms of the Archivo Nacional de Asunción, Vol. 320, documents 124-48). Of a list of more than 150 schoolteachers in 1863, one can recognize the names of three women (UNESCO microfilms of the Archivo Nacional de Asunción, vol. 336, 1863, document 440-07).

Conclusions: Knowledge, Education, and Gender

In conclusion, despite the dependence of Spanish conquerors upon the Guaraní women’s agricultural labor and ecological knowledge for their survival during the conquest and early colonization of Paraguay, Guaraní women held subordinate status during the long period of colonial rule; they were often traded for metal tools and objects, enslaved, and even served as currency (Austin, 2020; Owensby, 2022). European colonization increased the significance of male dominance, as reflected in the division of labor and educational system in the missions. Religious instruction in colonial times took place through religious sermons, music, and the liturgy at church services, and catechism was taught to both boys and girls, but at separate times. Yet there appears to be no direct evidence of Catholic missionaries teaching Guaraní women and girls how to read and write and do mathematics at mission schools. Only one document written in the Guaraní language on behalf of a Native woman and daughter, but not signed by them, appears among the abundance of Guaraní letters uncovered in archives from Argentina, Paraguay, Brazil, Spain, the United States, England, and France, which date from the mid-eighteenth through the early nineteenth century.

Sermons and other religious texts published in the Guaraní language, such as the Explicación de el Catecismo en lengua guaraní (1724) by cacique and musician of mission Santa María, Nicolás Yapuguay, nonetheless were intended for the conversion of entire communities (Furlong, 1947). Religious teachings may have been printed not only to be read by those Guaraní who were literate but could be read out loud to members of religious congregations, including its female members. Clerics apparently did not see the benefit of literacy for women and girls, although the missionaries recognized the significant role of Guaraní women in religious congregations (see Ruiz de Montoya, The Spiritual Conquest).

By examining a selection of Guarani sources and other texts, we have learned how Spain attempted to assimilate the Native population by imposing the use of the Spanish language in the schools beginning in late eighteenth Paraguay. We can also discern the transcultural process by which certain Guaraní came to read and write in the Spanish language. We still lack details about the extent and manner in which the Guaraní school children were punished by authorities for speaking their Native language. Parental influence over their children’s education is unclear but it undoubtedly declined with the instruction provided by Catholic missionaries and Spanish teachers. It is notable, however, that several Guaraní became teachers and one an ordained priest, and that the Native language endured despite the assimilation attempts. Finally, the impact of Spanish colonialism on Native culture becomes evident in that the Guaraní came to adopt European-style clothing that was acceptable by the standards of Catholic missionaries, although they still retained and cherished their Guaraní language. The cotton typói, the white chemises worn by Indigenous and mestiza women and girls, which were flounced with lace at the neck and arm, were not all that distinct from the long cotton dresses with some embroidery worn by women and girls in the Chiquitos and Moxos missions of present-day Bolivia and in other parts of the Americas, such as the huipiles of Mexico. Notwithstanding the undeniable demographic and cultural presence of Indigenous women, the disparities of women and girls’ education and literacy, regardless of race, ethnicity, and social class, continued well into the nineteenth century, because women lacked full citizenship following Paraguayan independence.