Burma Part 3

Owing to their primitive methods of building and choice of materials, a Burmese town differs very little from a village except in point of size, though occasionally the houses are of two stories and timber-built throughout.

The stockade is absent, and in its place deep ditches, partly filled with water, surround the houses, and run alongside of the streets, which are, perhaps, somewhat wider and more regularly planned.

The approach to the town is often very pretty, the water reflecting the waving palm-trees and picturesque buildings, while the roads, which in Burma are usually nothing but a track, have, as they near the town, some semblance of solidity.

Little bridges cross the ditches, and give access to the houses, round about which are often raised paths or causeways of burnt brick set "herring-bone" fashion. These prove a comfort in the rains, when the streets of the town are rivers and the whole country a sea of mud.

Trees in plenty shade the road and houses, and shops and small bazaars give an air of business to the town, whose princ.i.p.al street, however, is largely covered with gra.s.s, and affords a convenient place in which to try a pony's paces.

Some of the streets have side-walks, a shade less dusty (or muddy, as the case may be) than the road itself, and in the least frequented of them dwarf palmettos enjoy a l.u.s.ty existence.

Enclosed by low palisades in front of many houses, cannas, hibiscus, poinsettia, or lilies are growing, and rare orchids hang from the eaves, to provide in their strange but lovely blossoms a flower for some woman's hair. Indoors, in coloured pots or stands of often elaborate design, are other flowers, always most carefully tended, for the Burmans love what is beautiful in Nature.

In the streets the life of the people is only a slight amplification of that of the villages, the shops with their attendant customers marking the princ.i.p.al difference, while in bullock-carts of more ornamental design than those of the villages, the families of the well-to-do enjoy their outing.

Though always two-wheeled and drawn by a pair of oxen, there is a certain amount of variety in the native carts. The wheels are generally large, and are placed very wide apart, in order to lessen the risk of capsizing in the terribly rough roads they often have to travel.

In the common country carts the wheels have very wide rims, across which is fastened a single flat piece of wood instead of spokes, and in many cases the wheels are quite solid. The body is plain, but the yoke and yoke-pins are often carved, and the pole usually finishes in some grotesque ornament.

When travelling the carts are covered by a hood of matting, and a mattress inside eases the jolting by day, and serves as a bed at night.

The pleasure gharry, however, is quite a pretty vehicle. The wheels have a very large number of thin spokes, and the hub is always ornamental. The sides consist of an open bal.u.s.trade, and the rails sweeping backward in a fine curve, to terminate in a piece of carving high above the rail.

In Mandalay another pretty cart is used by the ladies when out calling or shopping. This is a closed carriage built entirely of wood, each panel of which is carved, and is just high enough in the roof to permit the ladies to sit upright upon their cushions. We can see them through the little unglazed windows, looking pretty or dignified, as the case may be; but dignity disappears so soon as they attempt to dismount, for this can only be done through a small door at the back, through which the rider must crawl backwards and then drop to the ground.

Games, as usual, figure largely in the young life of the place. A curious kind of football called "chinlon" is very general, and the instinct for sport comes out early in the boys, who, while flying their kites, attempt by skilful manoeuvring to saw through each other's lines and so prove a "conqueror." The little girls have their amus.e.m.e.nts also, and it is pretty to see a little one being drawn about in a diminutive go-cart, or, squatting on her haunches by the doorstep, endeavouring to fathom the intricacies of doll-dressing.

Let us wander round the streets and see what we can find to interest us. First it will be noticed that beside every house are two long poles; one has a hook at its end, and the other is formed into a sort of broad paddle. These are provided in case of fire, when with the hook the thatch is pulled down, or the fire beaten out with the other.

Fires are constantly occurring, for though every house is supposed to have a separate cooking shed, carelessness, or the habit of cooking indoors, is largely responsible for them, and there is very little hope for dwellings built of such inflammable material once a fire starts. Consequently in all parts of the country roofs of galvanized iron are slowly taking the place of the picturesque "thekka," even the "kyoungs" and "zeyats" being roofed by it; and unfortunately, as creepers do not take kindly to this new form of roofing, it will, I am afraid, always remain an eyesore among what is otherwise so picturesque.

In many of the streets are wells, surrounded by a wall and crossed by a heavy beam of wood to which pulleys are attached, through which run ropes with hooks at their ends, by means of which the water-pots are lowered. This is a great place of congregation for the young people, and is always surrounded by animated groups of young men and maidens, who, with pretty courtesies or coyness, carry on their youthful flirtations.

The Burman is always delightfully natural, and seems to live in the open daylight. At the doorstep of one house are mother and daughter, busy sewing up cloth, their red lacquer box of sewing materials between them. At another a dainty housewife entertains her guests at tea, for tea is now largely drunk in Burma.

[Ill.u.s.tration: AT THE WELL.]

All the shops are open to the street, and we may see the various trades in operation.

It is interesting to see the umbrellas being made. They are almost flat when open, the frame consisting of a mult.i.tude of thin bamboo ribs formed by splitting _one_ bamboo into many sections, so that the knots of the cane occur at the same regular distances on the ribs, so forming a kind of pattern. The common kinds are very large, some of those in use in the market-places being as big as a small tent. These are covered with calico, oiled or varnished, and form an excellent protection against sun or rain. More delicate sunshades are made of the same materials, or of silk; these are smaller, and are often painted in rings of flowers or foliage, which has a very pretty effect, and the sun shining through them throws a rich orange shade over the head and shoulders of the bearer.

Then, there are the silk-weavers and silversmiths, whose work is probably the best of its kind produced in any country, and in Thayetmu and Rangoon I have seen silver-work produced which, in my opinion, is unequalled for beauty of design or excellence of workmanship.

Turning enters largely into their decorative woodwork, and the turners, who use a very simple form of foot-lathe, are busily engaged in providing the various articles required--pilasters for a balcony, hubs for a cart-wheel, or the turned finials of a baby's cot. In a kindred trade the wood-carver is busy producing embellishments for the "kyoung" or "zeyat" which some wealthy resident is erecting.

Though the Burmans occasionally become drunk on "toddy" (a beverage made from the flower of the toddy-palm), they are by habit abstemious and simple livers; rice and vegetable curries, bananas, jack-fruit, papaya, and other fruits, form their staple food, and, forbidden by their religion to take life, fish is practically the only variant to their vegetable diet, the fisherman excusing himself by saying that "_he_ does not kill the fish: they die of themselves."

All smoke, however, and men, women and children equally enjoy their huge cheroots, composed of the inner bark of certain trees mixed with chopped tobacco, which are rolled into the form of a cigar in the spathe of Indian corn or some similar husk, and no meal would be considered to be properly set out without the red lacquer box containing betel, which is universally chewed. Betel is the nut of the areca-palm, and before being used is rolled between leaves on which a little lime is spread. The flavour is astringent and produces excessive expectoration, and, by its irritation, gives to the tongue and lips a curious bright pink colour. Still, it is considered an excellent stomach tonic, and so far as one can judge has no worse effect than to blacken the teeth of the user.

Every village or town has its paG.o.das, which in some cases are very numerous. The Burman spends little upon his home, which is always regarded as of a temporary nature, and in the erection of a paG.o.da or other religious building the wealthy native finds an outlet for his energies, and earns "merit" for himself. Few of the modern village paG.o.das are of any particular beauty, and I cannot but think that the money spent upon them would be far better employed in restoring and preserving the many beautiful and ancient temples scattered all over the country.

In many towns is a sacred tank or reservoir, so entirely covered with lotus and other plants that the water cannot be seen. Large fish and turtles of great age inhabit them, but are seldom seen, on account of the heavy screen of leaves and flowers which lies upon the surface of the water, which, however, is often strongly disturbed as some ungainly monster rolls or turns below them. On the outskirts of the towns are the gardens, enclosed by hedges of castor-oil or cactus, where many kinds of fruits and spices are grown: bananas, pineapple, guava, bael, citrons, etc., are some of the ordinary kinds, while the coco-nut, tamarind, jack, and papaya grow everywhere about the streets and houses. Many vegetables, such as cuc.u.mber and vegetable-marrow, are also grown, and among the shops or stalls in the market-place none are so attractive as those which display their many-coloured and sweet-smelling fruits and vegetables.

Every few days a market is held in one or other of the large towns of a district, and attracts to it country people from a considerable distance around. Here one has a chance of seeing many other tribes and types beside the Burman: Shans, Karens, or Kachins, different in feature and costume from the natives of the town, together with Chinese and natives of India, give a variety to the population, and help to swell the crowd which from early morning till sundown throngs the market-places.

The market is generally held in the open s.p.a.ce outside the town, and is generally enclosed. In it are wooden buildings, or booths of sacking or "tayan" (gra.s.s-mats), in which each different trade is gathered, so dividing the bazaar into sections. Between the buildings rows of people squat upon the ground, protecting themselves and the odd a.s.sortment of wares they have for sale by screens of coloured cloth or the enormous umbrellas I have already mentioned. Up and down the lane so formed move the would-be purchasers, a motley crowd in which every type and race in Burma is represented. No less varied are the articles offered for sale--cotton goods and silks, cutlery and tools, lamps and combs, and various other articles of personal adornment, including the ornamental sandals which all the women of the town affect. Fruit, vegetables, and food-stuffs have a ready sale; nor are sweetmeats for the children forgotten.

Cooking-pots and all kinds of domestic utensils may be purchased and carried away in baskets beautifully made, and often of immense size, which form a striking feature of the bazaar.

All the more important stalls are kept by women, who, as I have already said, are the business backbone of the country. Many of them are women of good position, but they like their work, and are very clever at driving a bargain; but though dainty enough in appearance, they can be very abusive on occasion.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE MARKET PLACE.]

I have already said that the Burman is not permitted to take life, and in consequence meat enters but little into his diet; but in all bazaars frequented by natives of India, who are under no such prohibition, the slaughter and sale of cattle is of regular occurrence, and among the most eager buyers of the meat thus offered for sale are the Burmans themselves.

Among other articles which I have noticed are "dahs," and knives of many sorts and degrees of excellence. No Burman travels without his "dah," which serves as a weapon of defence or enables him to clear his path where the jungle is thick, while the heavier knives are used for chopping the domestic fuel. Some of these "dahs" are very finely finished, the handle and sheath of wild plum being bound by delicately plaited bands of bamboo fibre, in which the ends are most skilfully concealed, and the blade, often 2 feet long, is excellently wrought and balanced.

At various times of the day groups of priests and novices move up and down the market collecting offerings from the people, while some "original" or buffoon gives the scene its touch of humour.

At sunset, when the bazaar is closed, long lines of people, some on foot, some in hooded carts, wend their ways towards their distant homes; and long after darkness has fallen on the land may still be heard the faint creaking of some laden cart as it slowly disappears along its lonely forest path.

CHAPTER VIII

FIELD WORK

If you are up very early in the morning you may see large herds of buffaloes and bullocks being driven to the paddy-fields. These surround the village, sometimes extending for miles in different directions; but often they are simply small clearings scattered through the jungle. The cattle are always driven by the children of the village, and it is curious to see how docile these huge buffaloes are under the control of some diminutive native, while with Europeans they are obstinate, ungovernable, and often dangerous.

The children always ride the cattle to the fields, sitting well back on the haunches, for they frequently have to travel a long, and often broken, path to their destination, and during the rains they are thus enabled to cross the streams and flooded areas, which it would have been impossible for them to do on foot.

It will interest you to know something about the manner in which the Burmans produce their rice-crop. Rice, as you know, requires a great deal of moisture, especially in the early days of its growth; consequently the ground upon which the rice-crop is to be sown must be _level_, so that the water with which the fields are covered may flow equally over the whole surface. The water is kept in by little dikes, or "bunds," as they are called, which surround each field, or the part of it to be irrigated; and as during a considerable portion of each year these cultivated areas are under water, and are always more or less in a boggy condition, these "bunds" form the most convenient, if not the only, means of traversing the district. Tortuous and winding as they are, it is not easy to decide upon your route, and you need not be surprised if the little causeway upon which you have set out eventually brings you back to your first starting-point, and you must make another attempt in a different direction. I remember once being hopelessly lost among the "bunds" in my endeavour to cross a patch of paddy-land, and although it was not more than a mile in width, two hours of valuable time were spent before I solved the problem of this labyrinth, and struck the road on its farther side.

Rice cultivation begins towards the end of the monsoon, when the rains have thoroughly saturated the soil and filled the fields with water, often to the top of the dikes. Then ploughing begins, and the gra.s.s with which the fields were recently covered is turned over in clods, as we do at home, by means of a curious wooden plough shod with bronze or iron.

These ploughs are drawn by the bullocks and buffaloes, or by elephants when they are available, the operation being often carried out under water. After this all the cattle in the district are driven on to the fields in order to break up and trample down the clods, and sometimes harrows, much like our own, are used for the same purpose.

Then the sowing begins, the rice being scattered very freely over one or two selected portions of the whole area, for which they serve as nursery gardens; for the rice is not sown generally over the fields, but the young plants transferred from these small nurseries to the larger fields. This work is done by the men and women, who, wading in the water, plant out the young growth 5 or 6 inches apart, and one may notice that during this operation all wear leggings or stockings of straw as a protection against the leeches which in enormous numbers infest the muddy water.

The rice now may be left to itself, excepting for the necessity of keeping it constantly supplied with water, which is raised from the neighbouring river or creek by many ingenious appliances, and carried to the fields by pipes of bamboo or channels in the mud.

While the crop is growing the cattle have an idle time, for with the exception of the bullocks which draw the market-carts, and a few which may perhaps be working in the oil or sugar mills, there is nothing for them to do. For the rest, the time between the sowing and reaping is pa.s.sed enclosed in large pens or roaming by hundreds in the jungle.

The harvest begins in October, and lasts until December or later, according to the district. When ripe, the rice is 3 to 4 feet in height, each plant growing several ears, the grain being slightly bearded, like barley; and in good soil, where the water-supply has been continuous, its growth is so dense that it is impossible for weeds to grow.

I know few prettier sights than a harvest-field in an early autumn morning. Through the steamy exhalations from the ground, and dancing on the dewdrops which hang heavy upon every blade or ear, the early sun is shining. Everything is mysterious in the haze, through which the belt of forest which surrounds the cultivated land is grey and ghost-like; huge cobwebs hang between the bushes laden with glittering beads of moisture, and the whole scene is bathed in a curious opalescent light in which all sense of distance is destroyed. Scattered through the fields are the harvesters, whose brightly-coloured "lungyi" and gay head-scarf are the only spots of definite colour.