The station itself gives the keynote to the aspects of the place.
Within half a dozen yards of where the white steam goes hissing
upwards from the engine the green young peaches hang in thick clusters
from their branches. To their side is a hedge of blossoming roses that
continues until the flowery architecture changes abruptly to a wall of
golden honeysuckle. At the rear of this, surrounding the outer yard of
the place, are poplars and eucalyptus, while the heavy scent of the
purple paraiso-tree overpowers the fainter colours of the mimosa.
A dozen or so of the local "coches" are waiting in the shade of all
these and in that of the vines that clamber upwards by their side.
They are crude affairs, whose lack of paint and polish is more than
counteracted by the dictatorial attitudes of the brigand-like drivers
who lounge at ease upon the boxes. It must be admitted that the
manners of these latter are far less formidable than their appearance.
Indeed, they smile far more graciously than the corresponding
metropolitan tyrants of South America as they drive off one by one,
bearing away their patrons beneath the shady avenues.
The majority of folk, however, remain for some while to chat together,
since in these parts the railway station is an accepted centre of
sociability. The queer medley of the crowd possesses its own charm. A
group of officers in dark uniforms and red kepis rub shoulders with
Gauchos and peones in dark clothes and black or blue _bombachos_.
Beyond is a knot of women in the homely and loose costume of the
district, bare-headed, and with hair drawn tightly back to be wound
into a plain knot at the back of the head. An elaborate dandy, dressed
ostentatiously in the favourite black from head to foot, is extracting
a few centavos from the pockets of his shining velvet waistcoat with
which to endow a couple of dissolute-looking beggars who have drawn
near.
Although the jet-black faces of the negroes and the browner tints of
the half-castes are much in evidence, the countenances of the true
Uruguayans remain remarkably fair and fresh. Indeed, the features of
many are unusually handsome, and curiously untouched by the stress of
heat and climate.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account