QUEER SIGHTS
"I AM going to the city to-day to buy a new waist-cloth," said Chin's
father one morning. "Chin, you may go with me, if you like."
A few moments afterward the two were paddling down the river past the
temples and palaces which lined the shore.
Besides the homes of the rich, surrounded by stately palm-trees and
beautiful gardens, there were other houses belonging to poorer people.
These last were built close to the river's edge, but were raised high
up above the water, on posts.
This was a wise thing to do for several reasons. In the first place,
the river would rise after the fall rains began, and the houses might
float away,--or, at least, the people inside would be flooded, unless
they had been careful to build high enough to prepare for such times.
The fine houses were of brick or wood, but the poorer ones were much
like Chin's house-boat, woven of bamboo and thatched with leaves.
The boy and his father soon left the main part of the river and turned
into one of the canals. They were now in a part of the city where a
good deal of business was going on. They left the boat, after fastening
it to the bank, and walked along through the narrow street.
The fronts of the houses here were all open and everything within could
be plainly seen. In this one was a big counter, almost filling the
room, and the merchant himself sat cross-legged upon it with his goods
around him.
There was a bakery where the cakes and bread were made and baked
in sight of everyone who passed. Chin liked to stop and look at the
various workmen. There was much to see and learn. The metal-workers
were pounding and hammering away, and, as the boy watched them, he
could see bracelets and anklets shaped, and sheets of copper formed
into various dishes.
In many places the families of the storekeepers lived in the one room
that was both store and dwelling, but they did not seem to be troubled
when they noticed Chin's black eyes following them.
In one store a hammock hung from the ceiling and a baby was swinging
there. What did he care if he was brought up on the street, as one
might say? Care! He seemed to think the coming and going of so many
people was meant all for him, and he laughed and crowed at each new
face.
"Do look, father," said Chin, as they passed a barber's shop. "There
is a Chinaman having his head and eyebrows shaved. He won't be
satisfied until his eyelashes have been pulled out. Other people have
strange fashions, don't they?"
His father smiled. "Yes, Chin, we are all different from each other in
this world. But I know one thing in which we are like the Chinese. We
love kites, don't we?"
Chin's eyes sparkled. "Yes, indeed, father. There is a kite store, now.
Let us go in and look around. The kites there are beautiful."
It is no wonder Chin longed to stop. All sorts of kites were there to
tempt the passer-by. They were in the shapes of flowers and boats,
dragons and elephants, and I can't tell how many other odd or lovely
patterns. Chin's father was as much interested as his son, and a
half-hour was spent before they finally decided on buying a kite in the
form of a butterfly.
"We will have great sport in flying it this afternoon," said Chin.
"Chie Lo must enjoy it with us."
He had finished speaking when he caught sight of a procession coming in
that direction. A moment before there had been so many children, dogs,
and cats in the street they seemed to block the way of everything else;
but now the children quickly turned aside and ran into the doorways.
As the procession drew near, a great shouting and beating of drums
could be heard.
"Father, look quickly," said Chin. "The men are carrying a statue of
Buddha on a litter. Isn't it beautiful? It is all covered with gilt.
I wonder where they will carry it. Oh, now I see; they have stopped
at that open place and are going to have a play. There are the actors
themselves."
"Some rich man is doing this," said Chin's father. "He has probably
hired the actors, and the show will be free to all. He is making merit
for himself, without doubt. We will join the crowd."
[Illustration: SIAMESE ACTORS.]
By this time the gilded statue had been set up on a sort of throne, and
sticks of incense were lighted and placed on the rough altar in front
of it.
The strangest part came now, for the actors began to put on their queer
costumes right before the people who had gathered around the show. Then
came the play.
There was neither stage nor curtain; nor was there any scenery, except
that of the place itself. But Chin and his father enjoyed it as well as
the other onlookers. They laughed and looked sad, in turn, and seemed
to forget that it was only a play, and not real life, that was pictured
before them.
When the play was over, Chin's father said:
"We must go back to the stores, for I have not bought my waist-cloth
yet."
The place they soon entered was different from any dry-goods store you
ever saw. The room was fitted with pigeonholes, in each of which was
folded a strip of cloth one yard wide, and three yards long. Some of
these pa-nungs, or waist-cloths, were of silk, and others of cotton.
Some were striped, and others figured. They form, as you know, the
principal part of the dress of both men and women in Siam.
After Chin's father had looked at a number of the cotton waist-cloths,
he finally decided on one that was gaily striped. It was of no use for
him to examine anything made of silk. It would cost more than the poor
man could afford.
"Now, for the tailor's," he said. "I must buy thread and needles."
A few steps brought them to the tiny shop where the tailor sat, working
busily, but on the watch for customers at the same time. He held
the cloth on which he was sewing between his toes! That did not seem
strange to Chin. He had often watched carpenters use their toes to hold
boards in place. As to himself, his own toes were put to every possible
use, so that you would almost call him four-handed.
As his feet were always bare, why shouldn't he make them useful in
other ways than walking and running, swimming and playing games? There
was no reason at all.
"I'm getting hungry, and we are a good ways from home, father. I wish
we could buy some cakes."
Chin looked longingly at a stand under a stone archway where two men
stood in front of a movable furnace. Square griddles were on the
furnace, and the men were busily baking cakes. Each one was made in the
shape of the figure 8. Curlicue cakes, they were called.
A crowd of boys was standing as near to the furnace as possible,
watching the men. Some were buying the cakes as they came from the hot
griddle; others had no money and could only look on.
Each of the bakers held in his hand a terra-cotta bottle with a small
hole in the end. He kept the bottle horizontal while he filled it with
the batter. When the griddle was hot enough, he held the bottle upright
for a moment with his finger over the hole, then, taking his finger
away, he passed it quickly over the griddle with the motion you would
use in making the figure 8. A minute afterward, a delicious curlicue
cake was ready for a customer.
"You may treat yourself here, Chin," said his father, "while I go to
the betel stand yonder, to get my box filled."
It was now noon-time, and the sun was very hot. The street, which had
been crowded all the morning, was nearly empty. Almost every one in
the city, except the poorer people, was now taking a midday nap in the
shadow of some tree or veranda.
"We must go home, Chin, for I am warm and tired," said his father, but
he smiled pleasantly, for he had enjoyed the morning as much as his son.
On their way to the boat they passed some jugglers treading fire and
climbing a ladder of sharp knives with their bare feet. At most times,
a large crowd would have been gathered around them, but there were few
people now. It was too hot, and even Chin was glad to leave the city
street and get into his little boat once more.
Perhaps you wonder if there are no carriages in this strange city of
the East. There are not many, since, as you remember, most of the
travelling is done on the water. But once in a while one sees a queer
sort of vehicle called a jinrikisha.
It is much like an open buggy on two wheels and is drawn by men. It is
more common in the land of Chin's Japanese cousins, however, than in
his country.
Then, again, if any of Chin's people are in a great hurry (but that
very seldom happens), they may hire gharries, which are very light and
have canvas tops. These are drawn by small horses brought from China.
"The gharries are strange things," thinks Chin's father; "the idea of
using them must have been given by those queer white people, who do not
seem to enjoy life as we Siamese do. They move so much faster, and are
not satisfied to do things in the quiet, happy way of my countrymen."