An Ohio Woman in the Philippines Part 6

I had missed a golden chance for I had often visited a rude foundry where they made bolos and other articles, but it did not occur to me that there could be anything of value to expert workmen at home in these crude hand processes.

The soldiers that accompanied me, as well as I myself, went into convulsions of laughter over the shape of their bellows and the working of their forge. Everything they do seemed to us to be done in the most awkward manner; it is done backward if possible. The first time I saw a carriage hitched before the animal I wondered how they could ever manage it.

Bolos are of all sizes and shapes and are made of steel or iron to suit the fancy of the person. Some are of the size and pattern of an old-fashioned corn cutter, handles of carved wood or carabao horn; sometimes made with a fork-like tip and waved with saw teeth edge. It is an indispensable tool in war and peace. There were none so poor as not to have a bolo. They made cannon, too, and guns patterned after our American ones. And sometimes cannon were made out of bamboo, bound around with bands of iron. These were formidable and could shoot with as much noise as a bra.s.s one, if not with as much accuracy.

They must get a great deal of silver, as they have so many silver articles; they insert bits of silver in the handles of bolos. These bolos are used for everything. One day I found that the little tin oven which I brought from home was all worn out on the inside. I was in despair for there was no way of getting it repaired, My native cook watched me as I looked at it sorrowfully. Without saying a word he went to work and with only a bolo took my old tin coal oil can and constructed a lining with the metal cleats to hold the shelves up. The only thing he had in the way of a tool to work with was his bolo, about two feet long. When I hired him I noticed that he had great long finger nails; I told him that he would have to cut them off. He said, "Why I don't too. I wouldn't have anything to scratch myself with." But, upon my insisting, he took his huge bolo, placed his fingers on a block of wood, and severed his useful finger nails. They use these bolos for cutting gra.s.s, cutting meat,--they use them for haggling our soldiers, as we learned to our grief and wrath.

There are vast quant.i.ties of coal, but the mines so far have been but little developed. The coal is so full of sulphur that its quality is spoiled. There are possibilities of finding it in good paying quant.i.ties on several of the islands. It makes a quick blaze and soon burns out. The natives sell it in tiny chunks, by the handful, or in little woven baskets that hold just about a quart.

ANIMALS.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

The animal that is most essential in every way is the carabao or water buffalo. They are expensive, a good one costing two or three hundred dollars. Their number has been very much diminished by the rinder-pest. The precious carabao is carefully guarded; at night it is kept in the lower part of the house or in a little pond close by.

The picture shown opposite is a good representation of the better cla.s.s of fairly well-to-do Filipino people; they are rich if they can afford as many carabao as stand here. The second picture shows the way they are driven. Their skins are used for everything that good strong leather can be used for. Their meat is good for food; but heaven help anybody who is obliged to eat it, and when it is prepared, as it often is, by drying the steaks in the sun, then the toughness exceeds that of the tanned hide. A sausage mill could not chew dried carabao. The milk is watery and poor, but the natives like it very much. The horns are used for handles for bolos, the hoofs for glue, and the bones are turned into carved articles of many kinds. The little calves that go wandering about by the sides of their mothers are so curious and so top heavy, and yet they are strong even when small. Carabao sometimes go crazy, and when they do, they tread down everything in their way. Notwithstanding their ungainly bulk they can run as well as a good horse, and can endure long journeys quite as well. They are urged to greater speed by the driver taking the tail and giving it a twist or kicking them in the flank.

I used to spend most of my time threatening my driver that he would have to go to a calaboose if he did not stop abusing the animal. The horses are only caricatures. They are so small, so poorly kept, and so badly driven that one burns with indignation at the sight of them. There is no bit and the bridle is always bad. The nose piece is fitted tight and has on the under side a bit of h.o.r.n.y fish skin, its spikes turned towards the flesh. These are jerked into the flesh of the poor horse until, in its frenzy, it dashes madly from one side of the road to the other.

Cows are of little use. They look fair but they give little milk. Goats are next in importance, and are delightful to watch. The kids, in pairs and triplets, are such pretty little creatures, so perfectly formed, that I could scarcely resist the desire to bring a few home.

The dogs are the worst looking creatures imaginable. They are so maimed that they are pests rather than pets; but there are thousands of them. There was one exception, a dog that was brought to me one day from a burning house, the like of which I had never seen before. It was called an Andalusian poodle. It proved to be not only the handsomest but the best little dog I ever had. Being a lover of dogs, I regretted very much to give him up upon my return.

AMUs.e.m.e.nTS AND STREET PARADES.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

As a drowning man catches at a straw, so was I eager for anything that would give even slight relief from consuming anxieties and pressing hardships. The natives responded quickly to the slightest encouragement; small change drew groups of two to fifty to give me "special performances." There were blind fiddlers who would play s.n.a.t.c.hes of operas picked up "by ear" on the rudest kind of a fiddle made out of hollow bamboo with only one string; it was astonishing how much music they could draw from the rude instrument. The bow was a piece of bent bamboo with shredded abaka for the bow-strings. Flutes were made of bamboo stalks; drums out of carabao hide stretched over a cylindrical piece of bamboo. Some of these strolling bands came many miles to my door, and while none of them ever produced correct music, still they were a great diversion.

There were strolling players, too. The first performance was the most interesting that I have ever seen. The players arranged themselves within a square roughly drawn in the middle of the road; then to the strains of a bamboo fiddle, bamboo flute, bamboo drum, the melodrama was begun. The hero pranced into the open square to the tune of a minor dirge, not knowing a single sentence of his part; the prompter, kneeling down before a flaring candle, told him what to say; he repeated in parrot-like fashion, and then pranced off the square to slow dirge-like music. Now the heroine minced in from the opposite corner to slow music with her satin train sweeping in the dust; though carefully raised when she crossed the sacred precincts of the square, and in a sauntering way, with one arm akimbo and the other holding the fan up in the air, she took the opposite corner and the prompter told her what to say. In the meantime the candle blew out; it was relighted; the prompter found his place and signaled to the hero to come on. From the opposite side again, with a bow and hand on heart, the lover repeated after the prompter his addresses to the waiting maiden. She pretended to be surprised and shocked at his addresses, fainted away and was carried off the stage by two women attendants; the lover with folded arms looked calmly at the sad havoc he had wrought. Now a rival suitor sprang into the ring and with a huge bolo attacked number one and killed him. The heroine was now able to return. She did not fall into the arms of number two. She only listened placidly to the demand of how much she would pay to secure so splendid a man as the one that could bolo his rival. The parents finally entered and settled the difficulty. The play closed with the prospect of a happy union. The company dispersed, the women and girls walking on one side of the road with the torches in their hands, and the men on the other, in two solemn files. There was no chattering or laughing; yet they all felt that they had had a most delightful performance.

Two or three concerts given at a neighboring town were very creditable, but only the better cla.s.s attended; nine-tenths of the people resort to these crude, wayside performances. They look on with seeming indifference; there is never a sign of approval, much less an outburst of applause. They seem to have no place in their souls for the ludicrous, the comic, or the joyous. They were shocked by my smiles and peals of laughter. They have a strange preference for the minor key in music, for the dirge. No wonder when our bands would play lively music that they were quite ready to take up the catchy airs, but they would add a mournful cadence to the most stirring of our American airs. After awhile I found that the music oftenest rendered by the cathedral organ was the Aguinaldo March. I took the liberty to inform the commanding officer and that tune was stopped. After the surrender, to my great surprise and joy, the same organ rolled out "America"; it did thrill me, even if it was played on a Filipino instrument and by a Filipino.

Little boys often came with tiny birds which they had trained to do little tricks. One had snakes which he would twist around his bare body. And never was there a day without a c.o.c.k fight. Sometimes the birds were held in check by strings attached to them, but it was a common occurrence to see groups of natives watching their birds fight to the finish at any time of day, Sundays not excepted. And they will all bet on the issue if it takes the last cent they have. They do not seem to enjoy it in a hilarious manner at all. It is serious business, without comment or jovial look or act. No one is so busy that he can not stop for a c.o.c.k fight.

There are many kinds of monkeys on the islands. It is common to domesticate them, to train them to do their master's bidding; they become a part of the family, half plaything, half servant. Parrots, too, are adopted into the household and learn to speak its dialect; they are almost uncanny in their chatter and they, too, do all kinds of tricks at the bidding.

I was daily importuned to buy monkeys, parrots, c.o.c.ks, or song birds. I took a tiny bird that was never known to so much as chirp, but he grew fond of me, would perch upon my shoulder or would turn his little head right or left as if to ask if I were pleased with his silent attentions. The last morning of my stay in Jaro I went to the window and set him free but he immediately came back and clung to my hand. I took him to Iloilo and left him with the nurses; he lived only a day.

FESTIVALS OF THE CHURCH.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

According to the Spanish calendar in my possession, there is a festival for every day in the year. There are services every morning at seven, every evening at five; often there are special grand festivals. The Jaro church has a wax figure of the Savior and this figure is dressed for various festivals in various ways; sometimes in evening dress, with white shirt, diamond stud, rings on the fingers, patent leather shoes, and a derby hat. This figure was placed on a large platform and either carried on the shoulders of men or put on a wagon and drawn by men. Once I saw the cart pushed along by a bull at the rear. This procession would form at the Cathedral door, march around the square and then usually go three or four blocks down toward the house where the priest lived, and by that time it would be very nearly dark and they would light their candles and return and go about the square again before going into the Cathedral.

Sometimes the figure was dressed in royal robes with long purple mantle and gilded crown upon the head; on Good Friday it lay in a white shroud as if in death; on Easter day it was arrayed in flowing white robes and was brought from the cemetery into town and borne at the head of a great parade. Those who could afford to do so would set up a special shrine in front of their homes, adorned with flowers and household images. The priest would, as a special favor, have special services before these shrines, and the more money spent on these shrines and the more paid to the priest the more distinguished the citizen. For days before the natives were busy making long candles out of carabao tallow. Some of these candles, huge and crude, would weigh four or five pounds. None of the so-called common people or the poor cla.s.s would take part in any of these wonderful parades unless they were able to wear good clothes and have long trains to their dresses. I never saw any one in these processions who was at all poor; the poor simply stand by the roadside and look on. I asked my Filipino woman why she did not join; she said she would just as soon as she could get a dress with a train. It was not many weeks before she was in the procession, having earned the train by laundry work for the officers and soldiers. For the men, it was their joy to be able to purchase a derby hat. I never knew there could be so many kinds of derbies as I saw on the heads of these natives. It was said that a ship-load of them was brought over once, and they so charmed the male population that from that time on they all aspired to own a derby, no matter how ancient its appearance or of what color it might be. And no matter if they did not have a shirt to their back, if they had on a good stiff derby hat, they were dressed for any occasion and to appear before anybody.

The priests wear, first, a long, plain white robe, over this a black ca.s.sock, then a white cotta; and the more richly it is embroidered the better they like it. There was with this white cotta a white petticoat plain at the top and ruffled at the bottom. I did not know the names of the outer vestments but they were all embroidered. I offered to buy one of the heavily embroidered vestments from a priest but he refused, saying that it was very hard to get that kind of cloth embroidered so beautifully. He gave me one of the Filipino skirts; it was badly worn, but I kept it as a curiosity. Not knowing very much about the Roman church, there were a great many things done every day that I could not understand; for instance, when a priest went out in a closed carriage attended by two or three boys he would come from the church door with one of the boys in front of him ringing a bell vigorously. He would ring this bell just as hard as he could until the priest would get inside with his attendants and then they would drive away. When they returned they would go through this same performance of ringing this bell until they got inside of the church. I saw this many times and once asked a Roman Catholic soldier what it meant; he said he did not know.

It may be that these people need to be terrorized by the priests; certain it is that, when a priest walks through the village or when any of the people see him, they kneel and kiss his hand, if he is so gracious as to honor them with the privilege. The people bow down before him and reverence him though he may at any moment lift his cane and give them a good whack over the head or shoulders. I never saw this done, but several of our men told me they had seen it; and one captain told me that he saw the priest take a huge bamboo pole and knock a man down because he failed to get into the procession in double-quick time. They do literally rule these people with the rod.

OSTEOPATHY.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

In 1895, for the benefit of one dearer to me than life, I went to Kirksville, Mo., and from Dr. A. T. Still learned something of the principles and practice of his great art. The subject grew in interest; I became a regular student of the American School of Osteopathy, and, in time, completed the course and took the decree. In the islands it was a great pleasure to me to help our sick soldiers; scores of them, with touching grat.i.tude, have blessed the use that I made of my hands upon them. Officers and men came daily for treatment. Soon the Filipinos came, too. Women walked many miles carrying their sick children; the blind and lame besought me to lay my hands upon them. It was noised about that I had divine power. My door was beset. I gladly gave relief where I could, but for the most of them help was one hundred years too late.

I recall with special pleasure one successful case. A woman came to me who said she had walked forty miles to bring her sick child; for compensation she offered a pigeon and three eggs. I could not look out of my window without seeing some poor sick native squatted on the ground waiting to see if I could do anything for her sick child or herself. The natives when burning up with fever think they dare not wash their bodies; they will lie hopeless and pa.s.sive on the ground or on a small bamboo mat. It is pitiable to see them so utterly dest.i.tute; not one single thing that would go to make up a bed or pillow, nor do they seem to have any mode of taking care of their sick at all.

Our army hospitals were very well kept, indeed, but it was a great struggle to get help enough and to get the things needed for hundreds of sick soldiers. There were many large buildings, but as soon as the government attempted to purchase them, the Filipinos asked exorbitant prices. And then the sanitary conditions are such that it is hard to establish hospitals anywhere. I read with great pleasure that the capitol of Luzon will be on a plateau in the mountains where the temperature will be lower, the air better, and the water purer.

I am sure that Americans can live in the Philippines; I know that the resources of the islands are vast, especially in agricultural and mineral products; that we have, indeed, acquired in our new possessions immeasurable riches.

As soon as any Filipino wishes to become a friend and to impress you that he is rich and has vast possessions, the entire family, father, mother, and children, will call and bring quant.i.ties of fruits, fine clothes, carved sh.e.l.ls, and native pearls with curiously wrought gold settings, and present them with great earnestness of manner and many words of praise. They tell you what great value they place upon your friendship, and that of all the people in all the world you are the one person that they do most ardently believe in, and finally that they consider you the greatest acquisition to their islands.

A Filipino general and his wife came again and again to see me; they brought a magnificent sunburst of diamonds which they urged me to accept with their greatest love and affection. I declined positively and absolutely. They seemed very much downcast that I would not accept this little token of their deep affection. They went home, but in about two hours came back, brought the diamonds, and again urged and urged so strongly that I finally consented to let the wife pin the elegant brooch on my dress; perhaps I should find out the hidden meaning of this excessive devotion. As soon as the officer in command returned, I told him of the gift, of my refusal, and of their return. A written note was hastily sent to the general that he must come and remove the brooch at once. Fearing the wrath of the officer, he came immediately and I returned the diamonds. Even after this the family renewed their efforts. I found out afterwards that the general had violated his oath of allegiance; his bribe was to buy my influence with the commanding officer.

It was evident that many of the better cla.s.s of natives, in spite of oath and fair face, were directing and maintaining the murderous bands of banditti. Often letters were found that the Filipino generals had written to their women friends in Jaro, Iloilo and Molo, to sell their jewels, to sell all they could, to buy guns, ammunition, and food, and later other letters were captured full of the thanks of the Filipino army for these gifts. While the good Filipinos were taking the oath of allegiance with the uplifted right hand, the left was much busier sending supplies to the insurrectos.

The hypocrisy of the upper cla.s.ses was matched by their cruelty. A native of prominence was gracious enough upon one occasion to direct a party of officers on their way. He was attended by his servant who walked or ran the entire distance carrying a heavy load suspended partly from his shoulders, and partly by a strap about the forehead.

The servant failed to start with the party, but in a short time he caught up by running swiftly. The master calmly got off his horse, motioned to the servant to drop his load, and proceeded to beat the man unmercifully with a cane made out of fish tail, a sword-like, cruel, barbed affair, about four feet long. The poor servant never uttered a cry. As soon as possible the officers interfered and stopped the torture. So b.l.o.o.d.y and faint was the poor victim that they gave him a horse to ride. The master was angry, declared he would not have his authority questioned and left the party.

A ball was given in the town of Jaro by the officers who were there and in the town of Iloilo. Army, navy, ladies, and nurses from the hospital were invited. It was considered quite an unusual thing to do at this time, as the Filipino soldiers were near at hand day and night, approaching and firing upon the town. One of the Filipino women said, "I do not see how the American officers dare congregate at so dangerous a time." The men decorated the huge ball room with magnificent palms and ferns which they had gathered and put up many flags. The regimental band was stationed on the porch at the rear of the building. It was, altogether, a very fine gathering, and all went merry "as the marriage bell."