Reaction to María G. Lugones and Mario Rufer’s “Ausencia y ambivalencia en una acción ritual: Indios que celebran a San Esteban en Sumanao.”

This paper urges us to question not only the roots of a “Catholic” ritual but also the very performance that we are observing. Indeed by simply introducing us to the labels used to define the characters involved—Esteban, Indios, Españoles—there are questions that immediately arise in this rich paper: What does it mean to be Indian in a country that denies their historical existence? What does it mean to re-enact the chase of an Indian by a horse-riding Spaniard? Is this a violent act that has been ritualized and subsumed into a religious celebration or are we, the outsiders, creating the myths that sustain the event?

The first disjuncture that we note is that this is a saint who does not belong among the pantheon of Catholic saints. In fact the celebration is not endorsed by the Catholic church and the priest, while leaving the church open, chooses to stay away from the celebration of the town’s saint. Moreover, the “happy” saint does not perform miracles nor does he expect anyone to pray for him. Contrary to his ‘authentic’ counterpart, Esteban Chico enjoys fiestas and dancing and is not partial to prayers or excessive signs of devotion. In contrast, the real Catholic Santiago, is described by the Pope as having intertwined the notion of charity with faith that saves souls. In the case of the Argentinean saint it is bodies, not souls, that are saved when the runners seek refuge in the ranches along the path. At the root of their difference is the lack of faith in one (chico) and the abundance of faith in the other (the martyred saint). Both of these ideas converge in the bodies of the “Indians.” Yet the “Indians” run and seek refuge from the horsemen inside “chapels” (the local ranches) where they pray, drink water, and rest before continuing on their run to the next ranch. Are they seeking solace for the soul or respite from the hot sun? When dealing with Esteban Chico it appears that it is the latter.

I am intrigued and wish we knew more of Mercedes Chaparro de Zurita, the original eighteenth century owner of Santiago. Her descendents donated the land where the Sumamao chapel currently stands. So we know the Zuritas were clearly a very wealthy and influential family. Does the current ritual bare any personal imprint of this family? In other words, can we trace any wealthy whims to what became the ritual? What does the evidence tell us about the origins of this event?

In reality this does not appear to be a chase or a “corrida” but, as the authors point out, a performance of a chase. For example, the horsemen wait at a distance when the runners are resting and they keep their distance throughout the run. This makes one wonder if they are not in fact being chased but rather accompanied by the horsemen. In Spanish they are called, literally, acompañantes so what exactly is the role of these men on horseback? Do the “Indians” appear to flee and, indeed, seek refuge, or is that the meaning that we, scholars of the Conquest, give to the event? In this instance it would have been useful to have a fuller picture of the horsemen—are they, for example, shouting something? Brandishing weapons? Also, the fact that the runners do not refer to themselves as Indians but rather as santiagueños, or loretanos is interesting because the meaning of the word Indian to the very “Indios” (the runners) appears to be unimportant or lost. The name gathers more importance when taking into account that, as the authors point out, in Argentina there are, at least in the national imaginary, no Indios.

As readers, we needed to know more about the actual participants. It was unclear if the “Indians” were dressed as such, other than for a short reference to feathers in their head “in the cowboy style,” although we also learn that some wear sports...