Month: January 2016

In English there is only one word for ‘knowing’ something, anything: a statistic, a person, an equation, a place, a feeling. Until recently I did not realize how limiting this aspect of our language could be. In Spanish two distinct types of ‘knowing’ are delineated between. There is saber- which is used for facts and things which one can empirically know, and then there is conocer- which is used to describe something which one is familiar with, or knows by experience.
I love to saber things, especially about other cultures. Growing up in a fair trade town I always considered this type of knowledge necessary to be an informed member of the global community. Yet, after reading enough National Geographic and collecting a lot of documentary factoids I figured I was set. My ‘print and paper’ dose of the world was just enough to satisfy my curiosity, but never too much as to shake me from my rock solid comfort zone.
Had I written this essay three months ago I would have said that the place where I was most content was on top of my ‘bicycle yellow’ chicken coop- the coop my grandfather and I built by hand nearly ten years ago. It was the perfect homework spot, and (upstate NY weather permitting) where I would spend my afternoons. With my family close at hand, and the comfortingly familiar sound of my hens swelling up beneath me, I was perfectly at peace. I could never imagine that I’d want anything more from life than to be in the place that I loved surrounded by the people that I loved. Until one day I decided to leave it all behind.
On August 23rd I boarded a plane to begin my year as a Rotary Exchange Student in Ecuador. This entailed staying in the home of an unknown family and living in an unfamiliar culture, all while trying to learn a foreign language.
When I told everyone back home what I intended to do they were shocked. From Girl Scouting and playing in the marching band to donning the school’s mascot costume I was always very engaged in my community. Furthermore, I was incredibly vocal in my adoration of our John Mellencamp-esque small town. While all of my classmates were anxious to ‘fly the coop’ after graduation I was laying plans to stay close and eventually move back to good ole’ Ballston Spa. Nobody could believe that I would take such a leap- least of all me.
Yet at some point I became aware that being knowledgeable doesn’t mean that you necessarily know anything. Without stepping past my front door I ‘knew’ Ecuador from travel guides and Google searches. I saber-ed that I was heading to a developing country that boasted the largest Indigenous population in South America and held strictly to its Roman Catholic values. However, it was not until travelling two and a half hours for my pregnant host sister to receive appropriate health care did I conocer ‘developing’. Not before attending Mass partly in Quechua (the native language) did I conocer that the Indigenous culture is alive and well. And it took living on the same block with four generations to conocer Latin American familial dynamics. What was once merely abstract notions became my new normal.
I was so comfortable where I was, but I came to realize that I was too comfortable- stagnant, complacent. I now know that I will never be perfectly content in any one place. The roof of my ‘bicycle yellow’ chicken coop is my base, but I will not allow myself to be smothered in my safety blanket. Instead of collecting trivial pursuit tidbits I now vow to collect enriching personal experiences. My goal for higher education is to attend a school that will help me to conocer the world and not solely saber it from the distant pages of textbooks.

Health and Death in Latin America-Research Paper

Introduction
The Enlightenment movement which originated in mid-17th century Europe is characterized by a renewed focus on the individual and a push for ‘rationality’ in society. Seeking universal truth ‘through reason’, enlightenment thinkers gave credence to science and empirical evidence while rejecting any policy which they considered to be based upon superstitions; although this movement was not explicitly sacrilegious, due to these attitudes, along with their questioning of accepted authorities, this group of thinkers often found itself at odds with the Catholic Church todopoderoso. While there was usually an ideological disjunction between these two parties, the reformation of Latin American burial practices during the early 1800s represented a point of philosophical congruency, many times even linking the work of religious officials with policy makers. Contrary to what may be expected from this time, it was the common people, without the support of the church, who opposed the alterations performed in the name of public health to their established beliefs regarding the process of interment.

Background
One of the main tenants of Spanish colonialism in South America was missionary work. The propagation of Catholic beliefs among indigenous people was not only seen as a moral venture but also a way by which these populations could be controlled. In order to promote adherence to church doctrine, the dichotomy of suffering in life to receive the ultimate reward of life in the hereafter was disseminated through the different missions which Spanish priests established in the ‘New World’ (Chaparro and Achim 6). Despite the fact that each indigenous nation practiced drastically different post-mortem rituals, they all were forced to adapt the Catholic traditions being introduced (peacefully or otherwise) to them. Although not much documentation regarding these traditions exists from these pre-Colombian societies, some Spanish colonists collected and recorded oral records from the time. One such recording gives insight into the funeral of an Aztec king. To properly honor his death, his remains were burned on a pyre while the community sang and chanted. His ashes were then collected and preserved in an urn (De Chaparro 29-31). However, we cannot assume that this was the typical ritual performed by most citizens, considering the role that the king’s social position would take in this custom. Anthropologist Peter Gose offers another glimpse of indigenous traditions through his study of Incan civilizations. Quite different from the Aztecs, this population found the preservation of the body after death to be of utmost importance. Great lengths were taken, including mummification, and entombment in arid caves at high altitudes, to ensure that the physical remnants remain intact (Gose 307-308). It is thus concluded that the act of burying ones dead was imported along with Catholic doctrine. At the same time that these changes regarding the treatment of physical remains were taking place, the accompanying theological ideas were taking root. In the journey to salvation, clergymen professed the importance of confessing before death, reading your last will and testament and praying for the dead. All these aspects of ‘a good death’, among others were printed in a volume entitled Arte de Bien Morir, New Spain’s first ‘death manual’ (De Chaparros 40). Often it is believed that the ‘conquering’ Catholic ideas completely replaced those of the indigenous people yet, the truth can be found in an unintentional mixing of the two belief systems, resulting in transculturation. Martina Will De Chaparro cites how Roman Catholic ideas were reconstructed according to popular beliefs and practices to support her claim this bilateral metamorphosis. Some of this mixing came as a result of the teaching methods used by missionaries. In order to have the native people understand certain concepts they were presented in a semi-diluted form. For instance, ‘purgatory’ was likened to the already deeply rooted Aztec belief in ‘mitclan’ (De Chaparro 40). Due to the parallels drawn between the two belief-systems it was easier for such doctrine to be accepted, and, in turn, become the base of life in the Spanish colonized regions of South America. And, thus, when challenged, the people were ready to defend these ideas all the more fervently.
Inherent to the Catholicism of the time was a strong degree of superstation. Religious symbols were interpreted literally, making all things pertaining to religion of paramount importance. Beliefs of the time considered churches as the actual ‘house of god’, the “gateway to paradise”, a locale where Jesus, the saints and angels physically ruled” (Reis 153). In the mid nineteenth century the church of the ‘New World’ experienced a move away from ostentatious baroque rituals, which were once the norm, to more austere methods of commemoration. As elaborate funeral processions became a thing of the past, the importance of consecrated ground, and the location of internment were pushed to the foreground (De Chaparro xx). Additionally, the church itself often served for more than merely religious purposes, and fulfilled other important roles for the region. This is well illustrated in an account of Brazilian Churches being used to house celebrations, juries and political debates. It was believed that by having the deceased close to the religious and cultural center of the population that they would still be part of the community; the practice of burials near religious centers was seen as “pious, ancient and a praiseworthy custom” (Reis 154). In contrast, to be placed in a graveyard on the outskirts of town did not share the same social significance of earlier church burials. As researcher Martina Will De Chaparro claimed, “their distance from the heart of the community of the faithful” was a symbol of the new estrangement between the dead and the living (xvi). Given the highly superstitious setting of the time, the importance of ‘dying well’, became a very high stakes game. Success meant achieving salvation, whereas the alternative only led one to the fiery pits of damnation. The link between being buried in a “pure place” and spiritual deliverance heightened the eventual opposition to changing burial practices in the dawn of the new enlightenment era (De Chaparro 13). As a result of the transculturation from the prior century the remnants of indigenous beliefs added fear to the already zealous mentality. While in Catholicism only the living can affect the dead through their prayers and remembrances, in accordance with folk Catholicism, which incorporated some pagan aspects, the dead could leave their rest and return to affect the living. The fear of spirit vengeance was a legitimate fear of this culturally mixed population (De Chaparro 67)
Planning of Cemeteries
Emerging during the same era of enlightenment beliefs, a new interest and strict subscription to the novel ideas of biomedicine were emerging. When the French Faculty of Medicine released statements claiming that the “coexistence of the living and the dead [led] to
epidemics”, those relying on the intellectual authority of Europe were deeply concerned. The commonly held belief was that with body decomposition, the natural humors (originating from humorists theory- also popular at the time) would be secreted. This vile bile would in turn poison the air and water, creating dangerous ‘miasmas’, and causing widespread illness. Although modern studies have shown that this logic does not hold entirely true, it is confirmed that the unearthing and reburial of bodies, which was common at the time, would have been a health concern (De Chaparro 141). Thus, anxious for the wellbeing of his citizens, a Spanish king of the Bourbon monarchy issued the Royal Cemetery Order of 1787. This edict not only banned burials in churches and church yards but provided a standard blueprint for the construction of suburban graveyards, whose construction was ordered in every township. However, aware of the deeply held beliefs and superstitions of the time the Bourbon king did not take this ‘planning’ lightly. Instead, to complete the task different Catholic dioses were called upon for their advice in creating a site which would appeal to the people (De Chaparro 149). The final “City of the Dead” which was the product of these deliberations incorporated many religious and aesthetic features to win over the population’s sympathies. Some of these characteristics included, but were not limited to, neatly spaced trees, a walk way for visitors, spaced burial plots and an onsite chapel for masses and contemplation. Recognizing the importance of praying and meditating to assist in the spiritual journey of the deceased to salvation taken into account, it is clear that visitor pathways and a chapel would appeal to devote citizens. Simultaneously, with what we know regarding ‘bad airs’, one can assume how important properly ventilated sites would have been considered. As proclaimed by the General Bishop of Cuzco, this design “struck a careful balance between faith and hygiene, the here and the hereafter” (De Chaparro 148). Just as vital as their help in the planning, construction and implementation of these new graveyards was the clergy’s endorsement. In such a fervently religious setting, words from the ordained carried a significant weight.
In consideration of the atmosphere of the time, those who tried to pass cemetery reforms spent the majority of their campaigns placating any of the spiritual concerns troubling the observant population. In 1808, a Peruvian archbishop attempted to convince his religious herd to adapt these new traditions by quoting Saint Augustine, who asserted that “burial location [was] irrelevant to salvation”. Additionally, he cited the revered Pope Gregory, whose teachings stressed the importance of “true piety” through the deprivation of self. In this situation, such deprivation would equate to being entombed in what was then considered a locale for the lower class, given how far it was from the church (De Chaparro 83). In order to promote this less than ‘grand end’ to his congregation a Cuban Bishop preached that those being buried in the remote plots did so out of their “modesty and Christian humility” at the same time he disparaged the traditional burial practices (81). During the same time period, a New Mexican bishop minimalized the firm beliefs regarding consecrated grounds, and insisted that although these suburban cemeteries were physically removed from the church that it would not spiritually distance people from the dead (149). However, we see that this assurance was not sufficient, as he then encouraged parishioners to make the sale of indulgences more readily available, so as to pacify their congregations (149). However it was not solely the job of the clergy to endorse this reconfiguration of burial tactics. Often times the king, and other Spanish lawmakers would compose their edicts to appeal to the theological sensibilities of their subjects. In the Royal Cemetery Order of 1787, it was stated that those interred in the new plots would not be left “rotting in purgatory”, instead the ground would be dedicated by the church. Also, the cedula issued stated that any disobedience to this “noble cause” would “defile God’s house” in addition to “jeopardz[ing] public health” (De Chaparro 173). When stating their motives for the reforms, the Spanish crown referenced “public health” and “reason” (typical arguments made in support of any enlightenment reform) in addition to “piety” (a religious concept not usually associated with the logic attributed to this movement). Similarly “pious” claims were made throughout the Spanish colonies as these policy changes were implemented. The suburban cemetery constructed in Havana 1804 was labeled, “For religion and public health” (Voekel 81). The use of such rhetoric which overtly linked enlightenment ideas to religious doctrine, stands as concrete evidence to the conflation of these two very distinct ideologies. With the employment of these ‘biopower’ doctrines (which focused on the preservation of life), the church began to see the state as paternalistic, and in response began to explicitly support the reforms. The Bishop of Cuzco voiced his support citing his “respect for God, hygiene and respect for the king.”(De Chaparro 148). It is made obvious through their mutual support, and by how tightly linked their agendas were, that these two authoritative bodies worked in conjunction on this issue- despite the other many ideological differences which remained between them.
Egalitarianism
Several corollaries were added to the original royal cedula, all of which added more limits to the burial procedure. Originally the edict only restricted ‘sub floor’ burials, where individuals might be buried in the floor of the church itself. This was eventually expanded to church yard restrictions, leading to the controversy regarding suburban burial plots. Up until this final point of contention there had been many classist aspects to restriction of funeral practices. Primarily, an exception was made; church internments would in fact be allowed for any clergymen, or individual who had made a substantial, assumedly monetary, contribution to the parish (De Chaparro145). Even before regulations became a relevant issue, there was an understood hierarchy in death. Those who could afford it were buried in close proximity to the church building, either under the floors or in an adjoining mausoleum. Comparatively, the ‘paupers’ plots were located at the farthest margins of the church yard (82). However, with the mandate that all be buried in satellite yards, death finally fulfilled its role and became a great equalizer, a paradigm shift which upset contemporaries just as much as their loss of spiritually significant burial locations. Yet, this idea was seen in a positive light by many, including one Peruvian bishop who pointed out the equal ground on which it placed citizens, “regardless of [their] state, status or gender” (148). Additionally, since internments at such a distance would be far less attractive to the pious colonial congregations it was understood that priests would have to charge their ‘customers’ discounted prices for the same services (82). While making church burial more accessible to the population promoted the egalitarian ideals of some bishops, there were many who were skeptical regarding the motives of the monarchy. Given that a large portion of their funds came from funeral service fees, it was claimed that these acts carried out in the name of public health were actually just elaborate ploys to weaken the power of the church (139). This theory makes sense under general enlightenment ideology, where the authority of the church is seen as a threat. However, if we were to look at the situation from the perspective of biopower, which implies that rulers were truly concerned with the wellbeing of their subjects, this dissenting argument does not hold water.
Rebellions
Despite having the backing of church officials and without regard to its egalitarian results, cemetery reform remained a highly unpopular movement among the common people. Opposition varied in form, ranging from violent acts and vandalism to defamation and simple noncompliance. Surprisingly enough, considering the reverence of clergy which characterized the era, the majority of aggression was targeted at priests. In New Mexico, several incidents were recorded in which church patrons threatened the lives of religious leaders that would not comply with their post-mortem wishes. Some records locate similar threats, and even uprisings, in both Guatemala and Brazil during this time (De Chaparro 137). The most prominent revolt took place in Brazil, where angry protesters mobilized following the opening of a remote graveyard. Their social misconduct started with vandalism and eventually led to the complete destruction, and burning of the contested cemetery (Reis 5). More passive dissenters used defamation tactics to paint the new burial grounds in an unattractive light. To discredit one Bishop’s claims that to be laid to rest in such a location was pious, protestors in Mexico spread bones in and around gravesites. Their intent was to evoke images of paganism in the suburban plot (Voekel 114). More subtle resistance efforts to the mandate manifested themselves in simple refusals to complete regulations. One clause of the law required that every municipality in the colonies provide a report detailing the burial practices they were implementing. However, very few, if any, conceded and completed the required documentation (De Chaparro145). Other noncompliance strategies included the blatant refusal of some to change their burial practices. This method was exemplified in the proceedings of a church of Cartago, Costa Rica, as they continued to perform funerals inside the wall of their institution until 1820, when stronger liberal came into power (pg.40). Such occurrences highlight the difference between actual policy and practice. While one can glean information about trending sentiments of an era through legislation changes, it may not truly give insight into the de facto reality of the people. This fact was especially true in rural locations, more resistant to change, and in remote colonies where regulations were harder to enforce (xvii).
Conclusion
The movement to reform burial methods during the late 18th early 19th century was an immediate result of the growing concerns regarding hygiene and a fear of what negative effects burial sites in close proximity to population centers would have on public health. These concerns were rooted in Enlightenment theories which had no reservations about dismissing long held religious traditions, and replacing them for the sake of ‘science’ and ‘reason’. Notwithstanding, while this ideologically turbulent time is generally characterized by conflicts between the church and the liberal leaning state, this potentially polemic situation is one in which the two separate schools of thought converged (Voekel 184). Of utmost importance was the fact that secular ideas were not forced into a wholly religious area of jurisdiction; to the contrary, high ranking religious officials were among the first to accept these reformations and were even converted into their largest, and strongest proponents (184). As evidenced by the organic uprisings and other forms of opposition practiced throughout many Latin American countries, it was the common man who most objected to the new ‘health edicts’. Although the majority of scholarship on this issue comes from several specific regions in Latin America, it is still possible to extrapolate the scope of this topic. Based on the sheer volume of reports about this ideological fight centered on the creation of suburban cemeteries, one can assume that these were not isolated occurrences (De Chaparro 8).
Appendix
Source 1:

The proposed map for a suburban cemetery. Collaborated on my both government and church officials.
Works Cited

De Chaparro, Martina Will. Death & Dying in Colonial Spanish America. Tucson: U of Arizona P, 2001. Print.
– – -. “Exiling the Dead.” Death and Dying in New Mexico. Albuquerque: U of New Mexico P, 2007. 137-73. Print.

Gose, Peter. Invaders as Ancestors. Toronto: U of Toronto P, 2008. Print.

Reis, Joao Jose. Death Is a Festival. N.p.: U of North Carolina P, 1991. Print.

Voekel, Pamela. The Religious Origins of Modernity in Mexico: Alone before God. Durham: Duke U P, 2002. Print.