DOMESTIC LIFE AND CUSTOMS.
It is an easy matter to obtain some idea of the daily life and
surroundings of the poorer inhabitants of Siam, for their houses are
such open structures that every enquiring eye may gaze therein without
any interruption. They spend so much of their time, and pursue so
many of their employments in the open air, that even the most casual
observer could not fail to rapidly acquire much information concerning
their domestic life and customs. In the case of the wealthier classes
there is much more privacy. They may be described as living also a
kind of double life. Their houses are divided into two parts; in
one quarter they live their own native life after their own native
fashion; in the other portion an attempt is made to reproduce the
European style of living. This latter part is the only one shown to
the European visitor. He is received in a drawing-room with tables and
chairs, piano and pictures; he dines in a room where the dishes are of
European pattern, the servants have the habits of European waiters,
and the menu contains only such dishes as are known to be palatable
to the white man. All the surroundings are of such an unmistakably
foreign origin, that the visitor looks in vain for any trace of the
life and manners of the native in the house of his wealthy host.
Were he permitted to pass beyond the bounds set by modern fashion,
he would possibly find much to interest and amuse in the real house
of the native prince or nobleman. As this is more or less unusual or
impossible, he is forced to seek for his information in those poorer
dwellings, which the forward march of so-called civilisation has, as
yet, left completely untouched.
The house-boats which represent the original dwellings of the people
have been already described. The land houses are of a very frail and
rude character, though not without their own charm and picturesqueness
when seen embedded in bowers of tropical foliage. Each house
represents very strikingly the social grade of its owner, whether it
be the low hut of the labourer in which a man of average height may
scarcely stand upright, or the brick and stone palace with carpets
and electric lights of the prince or nobleman. Most of the houses
are of wood, and are made of either bamboo or teak. They stand upon
wooden platforms about six feet from the ground, being supported in
that position by strong teak pillars. Teak is used for this purpose
not only on account of its strength, but because it is also one of
the few woods which are so hard that the destructive little "white
ant" leaves it alone. The walls are of teak boards, or else of plaited
bamboo. In the latter case the dwelling is light and airy, for the
numerous interstices between the strands of wood are left unclosed,
thus admitting a plentiful supply of air and light. The roof is always
covered with some form of thatch, never with slates or tiles. Along
the river banks and near water generally, the attap palm grows in
abundance, and its long fibrous leaves make an excellent thatch. The
leaves are stitched together, forming rectangular layers about two
feet long and one foot wide. When these leafy mats are placed on the
roof in an inclined position they form a water-tight covering. In
places remote from water, where the leaves cannot be easily obtained,
an equally serviceable thatch is made from the long broad leaves of
certain kinds of jungle grass. These leafy roofs last about three
years. In the summer they get so completely dried by the sun that they
become brittle, and every strong gust of wind carries away tiny bits
of the thatch. In this condition they are extremely inflammable, and
fires are of frequent occurrence. As the houses are usually very close
together, a fire is a very serious calamity; for not only are numerous
dwellings consumed in the rapidly spreading conflagration itself, but
it is always necessary to destroy every house in the neighbourhood on
which sparks would be likely to fall, in order to prevent a wholesale
bonfire. There is no fire-brigade either amateur or professional, and
the soldiers are always employed to put out the flames. One of these
houses could be easily smashed to bits by a hatchet, especially in the
dry season, when they are about as substantial as a match-box.
The houses are built on poles for two reasons; first, to avoid the
floods during the rainy season, and secondly, to prevent the intrusion
of the wild beasts who roam about at nights in the more remote parts
of the country. There is no second storey, but a platform or verandah
runs along the front or even round the whole of the house. The ascent
to this verandah, or to the front door in the absence of one, is made
by means of a rickety ladder constructed of the indispensable bamboo.
[Illustration: A SIAMESE TEAK-WOOD HOUSE.]
The house is divided into at least three rooms, a kitchen, a
drawing-room and a bedroom. So powerful is the superstition that
even numbers are unlucky, that the number of rooms is always an odd
one. The same fancy regulates also the number of windows and doors,
and even the rungs of the ladder. Of these rooms the least dirty is
the one we have designated the drawing-room. The kitchen is always
remarkable for its accumulation of dirt and rubbish. A properly
constructed fireplace is of course impossible in a wooden house. A
substitute for grate and oven is obtained in one of two ways. A wooden
box is filled with earth, and a couple of bricks are placed thereon.
The fire, which is of wood or charcoal, is laid between the bricks,
and the pot, pan, or kettle is supported by them. A more civilised
form of stove is an earthenware furnace. It resembles in shape a short
narrow pail, containing a shelf midway, pierced by a number of round
holes. Below the shelf an oblong aperture is cut in the side of the
pail. The pot stands on the rim of the bucket, the charcoal is placed
on the sieve-like shelf, and a current of air is caused to pass
upwards by rapidly waving a fan to and fro in front of the lateral
opening. No chimney or other method of exit is provided in the kitchen
by which the smoke of the fire can escape. It finds its way to the
exterior or into the other rooms of the house, through the holes in
the walls or through the light frame-work screens and partitions that
represent walls. Grime and soot accumulate year after year, and form
a very complete if inartistic covering to the sides and roof of this
Oriental kitchen. The place is never cleaned out or disinfected.
Spiders spin their webs in undisturbed possession of every nook; tiny
lizards crawl over the walls, open-mouthed, looking for flies and
mosquitoes; multitudes of insects of the "crawly creepy" kind find
comfortable breeding-places amidst the shreds of smoke-stained attap.
Every member of the household knows how to cook. If the mother is not
at home, the father can easily take her place, for he knows quite
well how long rice should be boiled or bananas stewed. The little
children can fry the fish or make the curry, and so are independent
of their parents in this respect. Whenever the voice of hunger makes
itself heard, its appeal is promptly responded to, and consequently
great irregularity prevails in the times of meals. But as a general
rule there are two fixed meals each day, one at about seven o'clock
in the morning and the other about half-past five in the afternoon.
The chief article of food is rice. In the cooking of this grain the
people have no rivals. They wash it four or five times, and then soak
it for a little while. They put it next into boiling water for three
or four minutes, and then pour off the water. The pot is left over
the fire for some time longer so that it is well steamed, care being
taken, however, to remove the pot before the rice is burned. When it
is turned out into the basin, the grains are all considerably swollen,
and are separate from each other. They are as white as snow and not
at all sticky. Rice is cooked in many other ways; made into cakes,
fermented to make an intoxicating drink, taken internally as medicine,
and used externally as a poultice. Fruits and sweetmeats are eaten
between meals. The rice is often served up cold.
When making a meal, the natives either follow the custom of the
Chinese and poke their food into their mouths with chopsticks, or
they attempt to imitate the European, and use spoons made of tin,
lead, or china; or finally, they use their own fingers. A large bowl
of rice is placed in the centre of the floor and the hungry ones sit
round it in a circle, either squatting upon their haunches or sitting
tailor-fashion with their legs crossed under them. Various curries and
other foods are eaten with the rice, and these are placed in small
china basins arranged round the central one. Each person has in front
of him a small basin, and helps himself, so that the quickest eater
naturally gets the biggest share.
Rice is sold in the markets and at many little shops, ready cooked,
and wrapped up in small quantities in a banana leaf. Workmen and
others engaged in outdoor occupations find it just as easy to get a
meal outside as at home, for they never suffer from lack of plates,
tables, or chairs. They just sit down by the side of the road and
wait for the first itinerant dealer in eatable wares to appear, when
they dip into his pots or baskets, and for a few cents get a fairly
substantial meal.
As a relish with the rice, fish is generally eaten. This may be fresh
or stale, fried or fermented. The stale fish eaten by the natives may
be recognised from afar owing to its powerful perfume. Such forms
of food, especially when they have the additional attraction of a
particularly pungent flavour, are held in high esteem. Decaying prawn
well covered with fiery pepper is a delicacy keenly appreciated. Eggs
that have been salted and preserved are also considered palatable.
Amongst the other dainties that figure on the menu may be mentioned
the seeds and stalks of the sacred lotus, the stem of the young
bamboo, peas, beans, sugar-cane, several kinds of weeds and blossoms,
every kind of fruit obtainable, chilies, mango-chutney, cocoa-nut
milk, and fat pork. The favourite sauce is called "Nam-prik" or
"pepper-water." Red pepper is bruised in a mortar and then made into
a paste with shrimps or prawns in a condition politely described as
"high." To this is added black pepper, garlic and onions. Brine and
citron juice give to the compound the necessary liquidity. A little
ginger is also considered a desirable ingredient. This sauce is said
to be decidedly efficacious in stimulating a jaded appetite. Being
accustomed to this highly seasoned kind of diet, the Siamese fail as
a rule to appreciate the more delicate flavours of the European table,
which they describe as being perfectly insipid.
They excel in the art of preparing fruit, and they can remove the hard
kernels from all stone fruit, with such skill that when placed upon
the table, the eye fails to discover from its external appearance,
that the natural condition of the fruit has been in any way altered.
The meal is washed down with a draught of canal water. There are no
water-works, and as the poor cannot afford to buy receptacles in which
to store up rain water, they are forced during the dry season to drink
the filthy sewage-water of the canals. Needless to state, cholera
epidemics are by no means infrequent.
The floor of the kitchen is of plaited bamboo, like most of the
walls. Through the cracks are thrown all the scraps that remain when
breakfast or dinner is finished. The cooking water, the old bits of
meat, bone, and fish, the skins of fruits, and most other domestic
refuse are similarly disposed of. There is always a crowd of bony,
hungry pariahs lying in wait beneath the kitchen floor, ready to snap
up the bits as they fall. It is well for the inhabitants that these
canine waifs and strays do thus frequent their habitations, for in
the absence of any salaried scavengers, they would otherwise become
veritable pest-houses. The little furniture that the kitchen boasts,
is not of any great value. There is the fireplace,--a wooden box, or
earthen stove; a few earthenware pots; a few china and brass basins;
some old kerosine tins, which are used for carrying water; a few
baskets; a kettle and a small table; an old stool or up-turned box.
Just as there are no cleaning days, so there are no washing days. When
the people go to bathe, they go into the water in the garment they
happen to be wearing at the time. When they come out again; they very
dexterously wrap a clean dry one round the body, at the same time
slipping off the wet one, which is then wrung out, and left to dry
in the sun. The professional washermen or "dhobies" are all Chinese
and are chiefly employed by the Europeans. Their methods of washing
immediately destroy flannels, and ultimately ruin every article of
whatever texture that is handed over to their tender mercies. They
wash clothes on the banks of the canal in the dirty water. They first
soak them till thoroughly wet, then rub them well over with soap, and
then bang them against the stones till they have succeeded in knocking
some of the dirt out, and many holes in. A rinse in water follows, and
then the articles are dried in the sun. They understand the mysteries
of "ironing and starching", but the "ironing" process is productive of
numerous patches of "mould", and the "starching" results in an uncanny
limpidity. Any man in want of a dress-shirt, or a clean pair of white
drill trousers, can always borrow those belonging to someone else on
application at the "laundry", and the payment of a small fee.
The drawing-room, sitting-room, parlour, or whatever other name it
may be known by, is not luxuriously furnished. The visitor sits upon
the floor, with only a skin or mat between himself and the boards. In
many instances even this form of couch is absent. A few low stools
may occasionally be found. The walls are commonly adorned with
photographs, cheap lithographs, and prints. Every caller is offered a
tray of betel-nut and its accompanying condiments; a cup of tea, and
cigarettes. The betel-nut is not eaten alone, but with a mixture of
tobacco, seri-leaf, turmeric and lime, and no host ever forgets to
offer these things to his guest. In time, as a result of continual
chewing, the gums and lips become a vivid red, and the teeth an
intense shiny black, and in extreme old age the teeth also protrude
in a repulsive fashion. The first effect of the nut upon a beginner
is rather of an intoxicating or stupefying nature. But after having
once contracted a strong liking for its bitter flavour, many people
find themselves absolutely unable to do without it. Every man carries
in his pocket a small box containing the nut, the tobacco etc., or is
followed wherever he goes by his servant who bears it after him. When
the master sits down, the servant deposits it by his side so that it
is easily within reach of the owner. These boxes are often of valuable
material and beautiful workmanship. The commonest material used in
their construction is silver, but the wealthier classes have their
betel-boxes made of rich, ruddy gold and set with jewels. The black
teeth that are obtained by the constant use of the nut are considered
beautiful. The natives express their contempt for white teeth in the
remark, "Any dog can have white teeth." The local dentists keep in
stock complete sets of black false teeth, so that when a naturally
black tooth is removed, an artificially coloured one can at once
take its place and so prevent any break in the uniform coal-like
aspect of the mouth. Saliva is produced in copious quantities during
mastication, and is of a blood red colour. As it is never swallowed,
spittoons must always accompany the betel-box. If the saliva is
allowed to fall upon wood or stone it produces brick-red stains which
are not easily removable. Such stains are exceedingly common in the
streets and houses. The black deposit formed upon the teeth is said to
exercise a preserving influence upon them.
Smoking is to some extent gradually replacing betel-nut chewing,
especially with the children, who now take to the weed when they
are about five or six years old. The native tobacco is very strong,
and when smoked as a cigarette wrapped in dried banana-leaf, it is
decidedly unpalatable to the European. Light cigarette tobaccos of
foreign manufacture are now much in vogue. Those who can afford it,
roll up the tobacco in lotus leaf. For this purpose the petals of the
lotus flowers are taken, dried in the sun, flattened with a hot iron,
and then cut into rectangular pieces of the same size as ordinary
cigarette paper. Pipes are rarely seen.
The natives are not addicted either to strong drink or to opium. Those
who drink beer and spirits have learnt the habit from their Western
friends. The opium monopoly is farmed, and is at present in the hands
of a Chinaman who is the king's head cook. The late king feared that
his subjects might take to the drug, and he issued a decree forbidding
all of them under heavy penalties to buy or smoke it, but the law has
become inoperative.
The bedroom, the third necessary room of every Siamese dwelling,
cannot be held up as a model of cleanliness. Frequently it is the
lumber-room where everything old and unnecessary is stowed away.
The altar and the idols are placed therein, especially if the sick
or dying are lying there. On retiring for the night, the doors and
windows are closed, and the atmosphere soon becomes hot and unhealthy.
Owing to the presence of innumerable mosquitoes whose buzzing and
stinging are effective preventatives of somnolescence, every one must
sleep inside a mosquito net. In the majority of cases the net is so
dirty, and its meshes are so clogged with deposits of dust accumulated
through many days, that neither air nor mosquitoes can penetrate
its folds. People sleep on the bare boards, on mats or skins, and
on mattresses stuffed with tree cotton. Pillows are not in common
use, except amongst those who have borrowed the Chinese form of this
luxury--namely, a hard, hollow, semi-cylindrical frame of bamboo.
When sleeping, the head must not be pointing to the West, as that
point of the compass where the sun finishes his daily round, is
synonymous with death. The favourable position is with the head to the
North and the feet to the South. Other superstitions with regard to
the points of the compass prevail, certain directions being considered
auspicious according to the days of the week. Thus on Sunday, the East
is the lucky situation; on Monday, the West; on Tuesday, the South;
on Wednesday, the South West; on Thursday, the North; on Friday, the
South East; and on Saturday, the North West. It is very important that
on any given day a person should not set out to travel in any other
direction, or place his face towards any other point of the compass
should he be taking part in any ceremony of importance.
If the tenant of the house owns any cattle, they are stabled
underneath, so that any thieves who may visit his premises during the
night may readily be detected. Pigs and cows directly under one's
bedroom are not usually considered as being conducive to healthy,
restful sleep, but the Siamese do not seem to mind their presence in
the least.
Frequent mention has been made of the bright colours of the clothes
worn by the people. Most of the cotton or silk goods are manufactured
in England, Germany, or Switzerland, but the brighter and more
artistic colours are produced by the natives themselves, by means of
a number of dyes made from various roots, fruits, and seeds. Some of
the colours thus obtained are never to be found in any of the cloths
imported from abroad, especially the many beautiful shades of yellow
and orange, so conspicuous in the ecclesiastical vestments. To be
thoroughly fashionable one must put on a differently coloured garment
every day, and wear rings and other jewelled ornaments with stones
of corresponding hue. This custom is not simply a fashionable one. It
owes its origin to an old superstition. Sunday is under the rule of
the sun, therefore on that day bright red silks and rubies should be
worn; Monday, the day of the moon, can only be properly respected by
wearing silver or white coloured garments and moonstones; Tuesday, the
day of ruddy Mars, requires light red clothes with coral ornaments;
Wednesday, devoted to the greenish tinted Mercury, is the day when
green garments and emeralds are correct; the variegated appearance
of Jupiter dominates the fashion for Thursday and prescribes the
cat's-eye as the proper jewel; Venus rules on Friday, and requires
from her worshippers silver-blue apparel and diamonds; while Saturday
is under the influence of Saturn, who demands sapphires and dark-blue
costumes.
[Illustration: MAKING CURRY.]
The Siamese wear their hair cut short and brushed straight up from the
forehead. This method of dressing the hair is of comparatively late
origin. The king's crown, the actor's head-dress, and the hats worn in
many processions are all of a conical shape. They owe their design to
that period when the hair was knotted and piled up on the head in such
a way as to require a conical hat or crown. Before the first century,
the hair is said to have been worn in a long flowing plait, resembling
the pig-tail of the Chinese. From the second to the eighth centuries,
when Siam was tributary to Cambodia, a Hindoo style of dressing the
hair was adopted from the sovereign state. At this time a central
lock of hair adorned the head. At a later date when the country
gained its independence, the hair was allowed to grow uniformly all
over the head, but cut short. The change was made in order that
some visible sign could be shown that freedom had been gained. This
fashion remained in vogue till about the thirteenth century when the
top-knot was introduced as a relic of Sivaitic worship, together with
other Hindoo manners, by immigrants from India. Other forms were at
different times adopted. For instance, from 1002 A.D. to 1768 A.D. the
hair of the men was frequently cut in a cup-shaped fashion. The king
who reigned at that time is popularly supposed to be responsible for
this style, which could be most satisfactorily produced by placing
half a cocoa-nut upon the head, and shaving or cutting away all the
hair then visible. Women, however, allowed their locks to grow until
they flowed over the shoulders. Again, from 1698 A.D. to 1798 A.D.
many people adopted the "Great Freemen" pattern, in which the hair
appeared in the form of a reversed brush in the centre of the head.
There are certain days of the week when it is unwise to visit the
barber, others on which it is highly desirable that any alteration
in the condition of the hair should be made. If it is cut on Sunday,
lasting happiness and long life are ensured to him who then loses his
locks; the unfortunate individual who undergoes the same operation
on a Monday may expect fatal diseases, sorrows, and many unpleasant
surprises; Tuesday hair-cuttings bring peacefulness and prosperity,
and victory in war, while those of a Wednesday are attended with
manifold evils, great anxieties, and troubles from enemies. If a
man desires the powerful protection of those angels who inhabit the
heavenly spheres, he must get his hair cut on a Thursday; if he
would have the satisfaction of finding all kinds of food savoury and
palatable, he must visit the barber on Friday; and lastly, if he would
be certain of the successful accomplishment of every rite and deed
performed on the Saturday, he should submit his locks to the shears on
that day.
In a country where so many insanitary conditions surround the life of
the people, sickness is common. Hence doctors and quacks abound. A
few Siamese have been educated for the medical profession in foreign
countries, and are skilful practitioners. A few others have learnt
the principles of European medicine and surgery in the Medical School
at Bangkok, but the vast majority of the native professors of the
healing art have no other knowledge than that handed down to them by
tradition. There are royal "doctors" attached to the court, quacks who
profess to cure anything and everything under the sun, and magicians
who both cure and kill for a moderate consideration. If a person
has an enemy whose death he wishes to encompass, there are certain
wizards who will give effect to his wishes by bewitching a buffalo.
The animal then dwindles to the size of a pea. This highly condensed
pill is given to the enemy, and when swallowed begins to expand to
its original size, with a result that is best left undescribed. Other
magicians make clay images to represent sick persons. Over these
images they perform curious incantations, and then bury them in the
jungle, where they absorb and so remove the sickness of the person
whom they represent. There is, however, a distinct school and science
of medicine which is not simply a matter of magic. In the treatment of
fevers and other local ailments, the native doctors are as good as the
European. They are clever practisers of the operation of massage; they
understand the nature and use of many of the herbs and roots that grow
in their jungles; and they are great believers in shower-baths, and
in the healing properties of earth when applied to wounds and boils.
Their physiological and scientific knowledge is summed up briefly in
the following paragraphs.
All nature is composed of four elements, earth, fire, wind and water.
The bodies of men and animals are made up of the same constituents,
the earth and water being visible in the bones, flesh and blood,
while the fire and wind, though invisible, are clearly present in the
breath and heat. The earth of which all solid bodies are composed is
of twenty-six varieties; the different forms of water are divided
into twelve classes, those of wind into six classes, and those of
fire into four. Now in the body of man all the six kinds of wind are
known to exist. The first flows from his head to his feet, the second
from his feet to his head. The third wind circulates in the region
of the diaphragm; the fourth forms the pulse; the fifth enters the
lungs; and the sixth is present in the abdominal viscera. Of the
four kinds of fire that exercise any influence upon the health of
humanity, two varieties of this subtle element are beneficial, and
produce respectively the natural temperature of the body, and an easy
digestion. The other two kinds are of an undesirable character, as one
is the cause of fevers, and the other consumes the body in old age.
The body is divided into thirty-two parts subject to ninety-six
diseases, all of which are the inevitable result of any excess in the
amount of any one of the primary elements. An excess in the quantity
of fire produces all kinds of fevers; any superabundance of water
creates dropsy and kindred ailments. All sicknesses that cannot be
easily accounted for, are attributed to an accumulation of wind, and
the natives commonly reply when asked what is the matter with them,
"ben lom", that is, "it is wind."
[Illustration: STEAMING RICE.]
Ill health and good health are dispensed by numerous spirits, and it
behoves all men so to order their lives and actions that they may not
incur the displeasure of those spirits who have sickness at their
disposal, but that they may win the favour of those who dispense the
blessing of perfect health.
In the days when Buddha walked and talked amongst men, there lived a
man of remarkable wisdom who is the father of medicine. To him the
plants and flowers of the forest spoke, revealing their many virtues.
The knowledge thus revealed to him he wrote down in books, and also
taught by word of mouth to his fellow-men. The remedies he prescribed
are sacred and infallible. If they apparently fail to cure, the
failure is not to be attributed to the method of treatment he laid
down, but to the want of sufficient goodness of life and character in
the doctor or his patient. Every native physician has in his house
an image of this legendary founder of his profession. Upon his face
is a beneficent smile. One of his hands is held outstretched. In the
hollow of this outstretched hand, every drug is placed to receive his
blessing before it is administered to the ailing one. After having
received the blessing, the drug is taken to the house of the patient
and there boiled in an earthenware pot. The solution thus obtained,
very often has to be drunk in quarts before any effect is produced. If
the sick man dies the doctor gets no remuneration for his services.
The following recipe for a mixture that will cure snake-bites should
be noticed by all those who intend to hunt or work in jungles where
poisonous reptiles abound.
A piece of the jaw of a wild hog.
A piece of the jaw of a tame hog.
A piece of the bone of a goose.
A piece of the bone of a peacock.
The tail of a fish.
The head of a venomous snake.