Think of an image of Bolivia. Would it be those women with the bowler hats by any chance? How about its famous, sweater wearing president Evo Morales? The bowler hats make for an iconic image, because of course we recognise them as our own culture implanted into an alien environment. The president’s sweater, proudly worn as a testament to his indigenous heritage, is however, only marginally less of an import: it may be made from local alpaca wool but needles and knitting techniques were introduced by the Spanish, with the sweater itself being another British concept that went global along with the bowler hat at the end of the 19th century. Peruvian men did traditionally do a lot of the knitting in the past but I suspect that despite his love of all things traditional he probably didn’t knit his own jumper.
Two cholitas at a wedding celebration in La Paz
This cultural mish mash needs to be seen in the context of colonial history. Unlike much of British and French colonialism in Africa and Asia, the case of South and Central America was characterised by a huge influx of regular Spanish and Portuguese, who through a largely genocidal process, although followed by intermarrying, became the effective majority in much of the continent. Also in contrast to elsewhere, the prime movers of the independence movements came from European descendents, such as Simon Bolivar and Jose San Martin. That’s not to say indigenous people and black slaves didn’t have their liberation heroes but they didn’t always see a common cause with the European descendents. So, where the British often left little more behind of cultural value than cricket and of course many would question even the value of that, South America is infused with Iberian elements.
The bowler hatted women are just part of a broader grouping of traditional women known as Cholitas, who may wear a variety of generally western headgear, of which the bowler is simply the most iconic. To define Cholitas solely on the basis of what goes on their head would be a crass insult to a deep and rich identity. Originally a pejorative term for peasant women, over time Bolivian women reclaimed it as something to be proud of.
Elegant lady in Potosi
In a sense, the hat choice is the odd one out in the Cholita wardrobe as it was adopted entirely by choice (although the precise foundation myth for the hat’s arrival is disputed), whereas much of the rest dates to the end of the 18th century, under the reign of Charles III, when a law was passed forcing indigenous women to wear traditional Spanish regional costumes, typically those of the Basque country, Extramadura and Andalucia. The mindset of cultural imperialism seems ridiculous at the best of times but it only got more absurd with the later, legal imposition of the centre parting hairstyle as well.
Indigenous women relaxing in the plaza in Sucre
Since then women have mixed and matched the various items so that the essential ingredients are: the pleated skirt – la pollera; the petticoat – las enaguas; the blouse – la blusa; the shawl made of llama or alpaca wool – la manta; earrings and brooches – joyas, which can be of considerable value for richer women and an indication of status. The president’s support for indigenous culture has brought a new level of acceptance and celebration of Cholita culture. Up until recent times they could be refused entry to more upmarket areas but now they can be found in high-profile jobs and high fashion outlets have embraced the style, adding modern twists.
Perhaps the most surprising development of Cholita empowerment has been wrestling. Taking its inspiration from US WWF and Mexican Lucha Libre it could probably be better defined as entertainment more than sport but after my glorious experience of a match in La Paz I have no problems with that at all. Despite the theatrical elements, including the referee clearly taking sides and joining in, it did look genuinely vicious at times and there’s no denying the skill involved.
Bolivian headlock
On the streets it does mostly remain the preserve of older women and despite the advancements and Bolivia probably having the strongest local culture in South America, the future of the style may well be more reserved for special occasions than the daily use from which it originated.
Of course the Spanish influence goes far beyond women’s clothing. One regular Spanish ritual well established in Bolivia is the Paseo, a form of early evening promenade for townspeople before they return for their relatively late, evening meal. Generally based around central squares (plazas in Spanish) it often brings a vibrant social life to spaces that in England are generally reserved for street drinkers and dissolute youth avoiding an evening in front of the telly with the parents. Young and old, often entire families, congregate, mill around, snack and socialise, attracting buskers and entertainers. Brass and drum bands are a particular favourite for Bolivians. The brass instruments of course being another European import but the music is distinctly Latin American. Initially I had assumed that having at least one tone-deaf player was an essential facet of the bands, but when I eventually heard a group who were more expertly familiar with the rudiments of music I realised that enthusiasm is probably more valued than talent in Bolivia – an admirable quality I feel.
Cruising, Bolivian style
In some plazas I encountered break dancers or rap crews facing each other off in a battle of rhymes. The Paseo is evidently for the young and cool as much as parents and children. The north-east of the country has evolved a mobile version of the tradition, seemingly endlessly cruising around the plaza on motorbikes or in cars. The pinnacle of cool appeared to be the proud ownership of a Toyota Hi-Lux pickup, which permitted young gentlemen, elbows nonchalantly perched at the open window, to chat up much younger girls on motorbikes wearing unfeasibly diminutive shorts as they cruised leisurely side by side. However, even here the old and families were not excluded, parents and three kids would somehow balance on a moped in a fashion that would make south Asians proud.
Breaking crew bring a bit of US street style to Sucre
Another influence in the Bolivian, cultural melting pot brought by colonialism was slavery, although black descendents of slaves are relatively rare. At a parade in the city of Trinidad celebrating local cultures I witnessed a rather bizarre tribute to this history in the form of a troupe of decidedly non black Bolivians, blacked up, drumming and dancing. To be honest it did strike me as a form of minstrel show but not having the chance to discuss it with anyone, least of all any black Bolivians, I found it hard to come to any firm conclusions, although it was without doubt well-intentioned.
You might have to make up your own mind on this one
One highly visible mark that the indigenous people were able to leave on Spanish culture, or were at least permitted to leave, is in church architecture. Many religious buildings are decorated in the Mestizo style, also known as Andean Baroque, where stone and wood carvers included their own traditional, non christian images, particularly the sun, moon and mountain lions along with native plants. It certainly left us with some magnificent buildings.
Mestizo style church in Potosi
In places, such as lake Titicaca, the Virgin Mary has replaced similar traditional figures that provided spiritual protection, eased by the fact the idea of the virgin had relevance in some pre-christian cultures in the region. I suspect that all these kinds of moves were part of a shrewd long-term game plan by the Catholic Church: by making apparent concessions to local culture it guaranteed more converts. Buildings that represented authority however, remained resolutely European in style: there was obviously a limit to the concessions the white elites were prepared to make.
European and indigenous elements can be seen in this example
Although Spanish culture must be seen as an imposition on native people, evidence shows that even in pre-colonial times there were often quite dramatic changes in artistic styles as new powers rose up in different regions, which were readily accepted by the people. So the acceptance of Spanish culture isn’t necessarily much of anomaly, particularly as so many intermarried. While the mixed heritage of Mestizo culture may have become dominant (68% of the population), Bolivians recognise the wildly differing identities inherent in the make up of the nation – Amazonian tribes of the East have little in common with the Quechua and Aymara speaking inhabitants of the highlands for instance. These various groups certainly have their differences at times but the full name for the country embraces these differences in its official title of the Plurinational State of Bolivia.
Street and graffiti art often uses indigenous images rather than copying Western styles
All our nations have taken on foreign imports in the past and have often elevated them to the status of national treasure. Take the expression, “English as fish and chips”: it disguises the fact that both foods were brought to our island by groups fleeing religious oppression elsewhere, the battered fish from Sephardic Jews and fried potato chips from French Huguenots. The fact that Bolivia has managed to hold together such disparate elements in spite of major economic difficulties and instability at times, while creating some kind of national culture warrants great praise. While President Morales has recently lost popularity by severely damaging his democratic credentials, his role in helping forge this identity is most definitely something to be praised and remembered.
