The Argentine Gesture

Only the narrow-minded imagine that there is a universal body language. While we shake our heads to indicate the negative, Turks do the same to express affirmation. Americans raise two fingers as a symbol of victory or of peace. To the British, such a gesture has an uncouth anatomical meaning. Perhaps the most striking example of foreign body language is to be seen in Argentina, where the locals turn their backs on each other by way of greeting.

This custom, which would flabbergast anyone in Cincinnati but goes unremarked in Mendoza, is difficult to reconcile with the national character. Yet in the hot-blooded land of the gaucho and the tango, of the coup and the counter-coup, it is common to turn one’s back at the beginning of a date. As with the handshake in our part of the world, or the deep bow in Japan, the back-turn is not always obligatory, and can come off badly if exercised in the wrong setting. It would be improperly intimate to turn one’s back on a shopkeeper, for example, and to do so before a policeman is to invite censure for mocking the authorities. When meeting a person of the opposite sex with whom one is on friendly but not amorous terms, it is prudent merely to turn sideways.

But when exchanging words of welcome with a business colleague or a family member, it is never wrong, and usually expected, to turn one’s back for about five seconds. With intimate acquaintances, the pause may be abbreviated to two seconds. If one wishes to flatter a superior, a decorous wait of fifteen seconds is in order.

The origins of this gesture are disputed. Historians and anthropologists at Argentine universities will tell you that back-turning is a residue of the indigenous tribal culture in the valley of La Plata. It seems that the La Plata Indians made a practice of etching colorful totemic images in the skin of their backs and buttocks. The proud display of these artworks was gradually incorporated into everyday etiquette.

A different explanation is offered in the more squalid neighborhoods of Buenos Aires, where the tearoom banter has it that the custom was introduced in the 1950s by the gunslinger El Adusto. This famously grim figure habitually turned his back to friend and foe alike as a reminder that they would die alone before God. Although El Adusto sustained many bullet wounds in the course of his career, he was never shot in the back.

Whatever its origins, back-turning is a simple gesture that can ease your entrance into Argentine society. You will find that it gives you time to compose a sentence suited to the occasion. When you encounter someone with whom you would rather not converse, it gives you a chance to slip out of the room.

IOJ