Loma Grande, Paraguay, August 26 (AP) — When Margarita Gayoso and her partner, Christian Ojeda, decided on a wedding venue, their choice was clear. Despite residing in Spain, the couple traveled back to their beloved hometown in Paraguay to hold a ceremony rich in ancestral significance, conducted entirely in Guaraní.
“The emotion was overwhelming; everyone was in tears,” Gayoso said. “Guaraní has a way of resonating deeply, as if the pronunciation originates from your very soul.” Guaraní, one of Paraguay's dual official languages alongside Spanish, is deeply intertwined with cultural identity. Yet, linguists warn of its waning fluency among younger Paraguayans, prompting nationwide efforts to preserve it.
For many Paraguayans, Guaraní holds profound emotional significance. Despite its primary oral use, it's notably missing from official records and literature. Finding a Catholic priest capable of conducting Gayoso’s wedding in Guaraní was no small feat. Nevertheless, the effort was worthwhile, as many guests remarked it was the first wedding they attended entirely in their native tongue.
The Vital Role of Guaraní in Paraguay
Out of Paraguay’s 6.9 million population, approximately 1.6 million people reported Guaraní as their primary language according to official 2024 statistics. Another 1.5 million use Spanish, while 2.1 million identify as bilingual. Other Indigenous languages make up the remainder. The Guaraní spoken today differs from the variant encountered by Europeans during the 1500s Latin American conquests. Its enduring presence in a predominantly Spanish-speaking region is remarkable. What accounts for its persistence? “For Guaraní culture, language embodies the soul,” stated Arnaldo Casco, a researcher with Paraguay’s Department of Linguistics.
“The Lord gifted speech to humanity, and for the Guaraní people, losing their language equates to losing their soul.” This intrinsic connection fortified their resistance against adopting Spanish. Consequently, early European missionaries opted to learn Guaraní to spread their faith.
Preservation vs. Punishment
Jesuit and Franciscan priests initially documented Guaraní in written form. They developed the alphabet and dictionary, essential tools for delivering sermons and preserving the language. Despite these efforts, Guaraní has faced marginalization for centuries. By the early 19th century, nearly 90% of Paraguayans were primarily Guaraní speakers. But even after gaining independence from Spain in 1811, efforts to champion its widespread use remained inconsistent. During the 1930s wartime, its use promoted national unity, but a postwar decree prohibited its use in schools.
“My parents and others suffered for not speaking Spanish,” recalled Miguel Ángel Verón, a linguistics researcher whose father endured harsh punishments for speaking Guaraní. “Why was it his fault for not speaking Spanish? My father and his siblings abandoned school because of this.” While 1992 legislation introduced mandatory Spanish-Guaraní bilingual education, the law lacks provisions for Guaraní textbooks or raising awareness of its preservation importance.
Casco and Verón noted many families ceased speaking Guaraní to their children, fearing it could hinder their success, encouraging English education instead. “Paraguay still grapples with a deep linguistic wound,” Verón expressed. “Passing a law is simple, but changing attitudes is far more challenging.”
The Essence of Language
Language preservation advocates argue that Guaraní transcends mere words. “Guaraní instills fundamental human values — solidarity, reciprocity, and reverence for nature,” Verón explained. The word “Jarýi” exemplifies this; untranslatable in Spanish, it signifies divine guardians of the land, enforcing sustainable practices between harvests.
Casco learned invaluable lessons from a medicine man in his hometown, notably the healing power of prayer, a testament to Indigenous wisdom. Across rural Paraguay, hundreds link language to faith, with no prior records of these beliefs until recently.
To document these collective memories, Casco spearheads a project interviewing Guaraní speakers over 60 years old. Having spoken to 72 people, the transcripts will be accessible on the Department of Linguistics’ website.
“Our mission is connecting with our roots and history through language,” Casco affirmed.
Reviving Guaraní
Several interview subjects reside in Loma Grande, the site of Ojeda and Gayoso's wedding. Juana Giménez, 83, possesses deep knowledge of medicinal plants, using herbs, smoke, and prayer to aid children in distress. Marta Duarte, 73, who once worked as a tailor in Asunción, returned to Loma Grande, assisting at the local church by interpreting Spanish Bible readings in Guaraní.
Carlos Kurt, an 85-year-old German immigrant descendant, cherishes the Guaraní language, recalling how his second-grade teacher noted his penchant for speaking it. “I loved the language,” he said, “I absorbed it all. Unfortunately, my grandson doesn’t speak it. He doesn’t like it.”
While many Paraguayans lament their descendants’ drifting from the language, Sofia Rattazzi stands out. Living in Asunción, she communicates solely in Guaraní with her grandmother, Nancy Vera, who firmly believes in the “yvyguy" treasure myth — gold hidden by Paraguayans during 1800s wartime. They frequently dig in their backyard, with Vera guided by the land to unearth rings and other artifacts.
Although initially hesitant about the language project’s benefits, Vera participated at Rattazzi's urging. “I want her to appreciate her story’s significance,” Rattazzi said. “Now, something of hers will endure after she’s gone.” (AP) SCY SCY
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