Among the Burmans: A Record of Fifteen Years of Work and its Fruitage. Henry Park Cochrane
of the Burma fever, to which he was "not subject." Then he will recall the lightly-regarded advice, repeatedly violated in every particular, and now—— As this is the first attack he will get his wife to treat him the first day with the homeopathic remedies in his morocco medicine case—his last misguided purchase before sailing.
There is nothing better to perpetuate a fever. On the second day, having recalled some more advice, his head will be buzzing with quinine, the only thing that will really help him—as every man in the tropics knows.
II
LIVING LIKE THE NATIVES
Much has been said and written about "living like the natives."
Many have maintained that the missionaries should abandon their former mode of living, and adopt the customs and costume of the people among whom they labour. It is said that old maids know the most about the proper way to bring up children. It is interesting to note that advocates of this theory of missionary methods are men who never have been out of their native land, and have spent but little of their time in informing themselves as to the habits of uncivilized peoples. Prospective missionaries will do well to provide themselves with the customary outfit—to meet their needs while finding an answer to the many-sided question—how do the natives live?
For the present we will confine our investigations to Burma. Let us visit one of the native houses, and see for ourselves. Running the gauntlet of several snarling pariah dogs, we pass through the muddy door-yard, littered with banana leaves, munched sugar-cane, and waste from various sources. The house is set up on posts, several feet from the ground, affording a shady place below, to be shared by the family and the domestic animals. The floor overhead is of split bamboo or thin boards, with wide cracks through which all sweepings fall, and kun-chewers lazily spit without troubling themselves to get up. At the back part of the house a corner is partitioned off for the cook-room, the stove being a very shallow box filled with earth. The cooking is done in earthen chatties over the smoky open fires. Near the cook-room is an open space where household utensils are washed and the babies bathed, the water falling through the open floor to the ground below. Month after month and year after year this filthy habit goes on, forming a cesspool from which a foul stench arises, offensive to nostrils and dangerous to health. This foul pool is a paradise for their ducks, its slime being tracked all over the place. The house is small, its thatched roof coming down so low as hardly to leave room for a full-sized door. Many of these homes have no out-buildings whatever, trusting to the pariah dogs and the crows—the village scavengers—to keep the premises in a sanitary condition. Some of the well-to-do Burmans live in larger better houses; showing that not only is it impracticable for Europeans to live like the natives, but that natives when able, find it wise to live like Europeans. This is a tropical climate, with the temperature at 112° in the shade on the day these words were written. It would be almost suicidal for Europeans to attempt to live in such houses, even under the best sanitary conditions possible. Missionaries have lived for a time in such houses, from force of circumstances, but always to the detriment of health, sometimes with very serious consequences. To a stranger, European "bungalows" in the tropics seem needlessly large. "Globe-trotters" in general, and sometimes representatives of missionary societies, it is to be feared, visiting the tropics in the coolest season—carry away this impression with them. In New England there is a saying "You must summer him and winter him" to find out the real worth of a man or beast. Could all who visit the tropics, or presume to write of conditions in the tropics—spend a whole year in such a climate critics would be few, and funds for seemingly expensive, though necessary buildings less grudgingly given.
They who urge that Europeans should clothe like the natives would surely allow exceptions to the rule, on closer study of native habits.
Among some of the tribes of Burma the question of wardrobe and latest style would be easily solved. Clothing like such natives would greatly reduce the expense for "outfit." Two strips of cotton cloth, one for the head, the other for the loins, would meet all requirements even on state occasions. But apart from all questions of common decency, it is to be seriously doubted whether the European would enjoy "sailing under bare poles" in a tropical sun.
The railway trains are provided with first, second, and third-class compartments. Officials and wealthy business men travel first-class. Less fortunate Europeans, and people of mixed race but with European habits travel second-class. Natives, as a rule, go third-class—but the rule has many exceptions. Not to speak of well-to-do Burmans and Chinese, who, though unobjectionable in dress—are inveterate smokers, the "chetties," or money-lenders invariably travel second-class. They are the wealthiest men in the county, but with the exception of coolies—they wear the least clothing and are the most offensive in their habits. The missionaries, whether on private or mission business, being unable to bear the expense of the higher class, and striving to save for the society which they represent, travel second-class. Now that many very objectionable natives have taken to riding second-class, it is no longer respectable for Europeans, except on rare occasions when the train is not crowded. For my own part, I seriously doubt whether this habit, on the part of American missionaries, of taking an inferior place among so-called "Europeans," is a wise policy.
Raw Material (Kachins)
Kachins Sacrificing to Demons
But whether wise or otherwise, lack of funds has made it necessary.
Far from adopting the impossible costume of Chins, Kachins, Salongs and other benighted races, the missionaries are earnestly striving to develop in the natives sufficient moral sense that they may come to regard the matter of being clothed at all, as something more than a minor consideration. It is true that Burmans, Shans, and Christian Karens dress more respectably. In fact, their costume, at its best, seems to be very well adapted to the climate and their manner of life. But even this somewhat generous concession must be modified.
The customary skirt for Burmese women in Upper Burma, and more or less throughout the country, is a piece of coloured cloth about a yard square, fastened around the waist to open in front. This style of skirt is said to have been adopted by a decree of the Burman King. Multitudes of Burmese women seem to have no disposition to abandon it for something more modest, even after eighteen years of British rule. Elderly women, as well as men of all ages, wear nothing above the waist while about their work, even passing through the streets in that condition with no self-consciousness. The Burmese skirt made after the most approved pattern is only one thickness of cloth, tightly fitting the body, not such a dress as European ladies would care to wear. Mrs. Judson, ministering to her imprisoned husband, felt compelled to adopt the native costume, to make her position more secure. But supposing the missionaries adopt the costume of the corresponding class—the priests and nuns—they must go with bare feet and shaven heads; all very well for the natives, but nothing short of ridiculous, as well as extremely dangerous under a tropical sun, if practiced by white people. In the interior of China the costume of the people has been found very suitable for the missionaries, and a help to winning their way. But wherever the people have become familiar with European customs, respect is forfeited, rather than gained by exchanging European customs for those of the natives.
A missionary and his wife recently returned from Africa were invited to speak in a certain church dressed in the native costume. They appeared, but in their usual attire. In the course of his remarks the missionary referred to the request that they appear in native costume, and drawing a piece of cotton cloth from his pocket remarked "That is the costume—you will excuse us?"
Eating like the natives—here comes the tug-of-war. The "backward tribes,"—Chins, Kachins, Salongs, many tribes of Karens, and others, eat everything—from the white ant to the white-eyed monkey. Worms, beetles, maggots, lizards, snakes, and many other such delicious morsels would form