_The Panamanians_
The difficulties that beset the early travellers across the Isthmus of
Panama over two hundred years ago still remain, and confront the
explorer in these regions at every turn. Very little has been done to
cultivate the rich lands which are capable of rapidly yielding in great
abundance every kind of tropical fruit.
Few roads exist, and until some attempts are made thus to open up the
country, little or no change will ever take place in the condition of
the interior. The activity on the isthmus to-day is confined to the
Canal Zone, but there are indications that in the near future the
systematic cultivation of this hitherto neglected country will yield a
harvest richer than any ever reaped by the gold seekers of Pizarro’s
day.
The average Panamanian of the present day, true to the traditions of his
race, has little inclination or no taste for husbandry, and is well
content to occupy some trivial government position which brings him in a
sure if small income, whilst putting no tax upon his intelligence. He
has leisure to live a life of social gaiety in the capital, and spend
his time in enjoying the intercourse with strangers passing over the
highway to the Pacific coast. With the Spaniard’s love of an indolent
life accentuated by a tropical climate, the only violent exercise they
ever take is vehement talking by the hour, at all times and in all
places on affairs of government. Panamanians are a strange mixture of
many races. Spanish by descent, with an infusion of more or less Indian,
negro, German, English, Dutch, and French blood, some of them claim that
they are pure Indians, and therefore true Americans, and proudly point
out that the inhabitants of the United States have not the same
authority to call themselves American as the real descendants of the
aborigines of the two continents.
[Illustration: PANAMA FROM ANCON.]
But they are very amiable, these Panamanians, ever ready with a smile or
salute as you pass them on the street, and with an infinite capacity for
making acquaintances, if not for forming friendships.
Late in the afternoon you can see many of them astride prancing steeds,
neat, round-bellied little animals, with finely-arched necks, tapering
legs clattering along the newly paved streets, their small feet making a
strange music like castanets. The saddles used are of the Mexican type,
and the large leathern protections which surround the front portion of
the stirrups give the riders a somewhat grotesque appearance. About the
same hour a continuous procession of carriages drives along the Savannah
road, many of them of smart appearance. The black coachmen are all more
or less disfigured with tall, shining hats and brass-buttoned coats, but
the occupants reclining behind them look beautiful and cool in
bright-coloured gowns of amazing cuts. There are only two roads leading
out of Panama over which carriages can pass, and consequently the
drivers in the neighbourhood of the city are limited to them. One of
these--that leading to Balboa--passes the cemeteries of the city. Until
very recently a custom obtained in Panama with regard to the burial of
the dead which was so repellent it is almost incredible that it could
have existed even in a savage country. A concession was granted by the
Government to one of its prominent citizens who let out graves on lease
and collected rents from the relatives. Should they fall in arrears with
the rent, the stony-hearted concessioner had little compunction in
ordering his men to remove the remains from the vault in which they
rested, and cast them into a waste bit of ground near by. Other
cemeteries separated by walls from one another are provided for the
interment of different religious bodies. Jews, Mohammedans, Chinese,
Roman Catholics, and Protestants are each buried among their
co-religionists.
The United States Government, with a sentimental regard for the feelings
of its citizens, has, through the Canal Commission, made a rule that,
should any citizen of the United States in the employ of the Commission
die while on the isthmus, his body shall be embalmed and conveyed at the
Government’s expense to any part of the United States that the relatives
may desire.
That a reform of the burial system in Panama from a sanitary point of
view was necessary and should have impressed itself upon the health
authorities is not to be wondered at, but it only could have been
brought about in this instance by the United States having full power
over the health and sanitation of the country which adjoins their strip
of territory. In the country districts there are, of course, no special
burial grounds, but the small wooden crosses and cairns that are
scattered up and down serve to mark the spots chosen for the interment
of the dead.
There is one other cemetery about two miles from Colon called Mount
Hope, better known on the isthmus as “Monkey Hill.” The graves marked
with wooden crosses contain the remains of representatives of nearly
every country in the world. The monuments erected are of the most flimsy
materials, so that any indications of the last resting-place of
thousands of the makers of the isthmian route will inevitably disappear.
So accustomed were the inhabitants of Colon to the procession of the
funeral train, that they became quite callous to the fate of the many
who had been stricken with the deadly fevers so rampant in the place,
and funerals going along the streets are usually followed by mourners
engaged in lively conversation and smoking big cigars.
Close contact with these melancholy scenes is unavoidable in the small
area in which the inhabitants of the towns of Colon and Panama dwell,
and the high death-rate which both have suffered from has made their
populations familiar with the trappings of woe.
The road that leads out of the city to the Savannahs, where the summer
residences of the better class merchants are situated, is good, as it
comes within the canal strip ceded to the States. It is mostly used by
the gentry of Panama, and it has lately been extended right out to the
ruins of the earliest Latin city in America, “old Panama,” which was
destroyed by Morgan in his famous raid. Very little remains of the city
which was known to its contemporaries as the “Golden cup of the West.”
Its churches with rich altars, and houses filled with priceless
tapestries, its richly furnished mansions, its opulent warehouses and
wealthy inhabitants, belong to the past. The ruined tower and walls, all
overgrown with jungle, that lie near the shore, are all that remain of
the cathedral church of St. Anastasius. A couple of narrow masonry
bridges near the city indicate where the famous “gold road” led into the
town. Over this road, the Cruces trail which led from Panama on the
Pacific to Porto Bello on the Atlantic, travelled the famous mule trains
with their precious freights of gold and silver from Peru. The road can
still be followed, a track of huge, irregular stones marking the course
it took, and in some places fair-sized patches of the pavement are still
intact. There is little interesting about the ruined city except its
associations with the past. It is dead, and nature is striving hard to
inter it decently beneath a luxuriant pall of green. One can only visit
the spot to stir the imagination and call up its wondrous past. On this
spot Pizarro banded his followers together, and from the now overgrown
harbour walls his little fleet set sail on one of the most momentous
voyages on record. The happenings in “old Panama” make the first page in
the voluminous history of the great sub-continent.
Of the saloons and restaurants, with imposing names and uninviting
aspect, much might be said. Even the best of them could be improved with
little difficulty, but they serve well enough the uncritical tastes of
their patrons. The better class cafés or bars in Colon and Panama are
generally attached to hotels; and in the time when the French Company’s
headquarters were in the Plaza at Panama the cafés and saloons were
filled with exuberant life, until the early morning hours, and the
larger and more important bars were the most popular places in the
[Illustration: A BIT OF THE OLD TOWN.]
city. But to-day the clubs have taken the places of saloons, as far as
the higher officials are concerned, while the spread of the canal
offices all along the route has greatly affected the business of the
saloons. Still on Saturdays and Sundays many of the gold employees on
the Zone (clerks, steam-shovel men, engineers, foremen, supervisors,
timekeepers, and others, whose occupation it would be difficult to
discover) flock into Panama, to witness the baseball games and meet
their friends. At such times the saloons and bars enjoy once more a
taste of their almost forgotten popularity. The most important saloon is
that attached to the Hotel Central in the Plaza. If you sit in it from
early morning till late in the evening, you will be certain to meet with
every important person in the city. Some you would see very often,
others but seldom. Their merry chatter and hilarity make the place
lively, and their almost unquenchable thirst keeps the bar-tender busy.
Always parched and thirsty themselves, they are obsessed with the
opinion that everybody they meet is suffering from the same complaint.
Before dinner-time, about half-past six in the evening, the crowd in the
saloon of the “Central” gathers, and each small round table is the
centre of a noisy group of companions who order cocktails, “high bulls,”
and other cheering concoctions. Meanwhile small boys shout the evening
paper, a miserable little sheet that never contains any news
sufficiently important to cause comment, for all the information it
prints has been discussed hours before. Nevertheless, many copies are
sold, for the Panamanian, ever anxious to keep abreast with the manners
and customs of civilised communities, generally buys a copy. Old women
with lottery tickets do quite a large business at this hour, for after
the twentieth cocktail even the most accomplished drinker becomes a
little regardless and throws his money about recklessly. But for all
that, great care is taken in choosing with a becoming semblance of sober
judgment a number that the purchaser has some very particular fancy for.
Once a ticket has been sold, the demands of others, always ready to
emulate the plunging of a good sportsman, keep the vendor of chances
busy. Two or three of the roysterers will join together and purchase a
ticket between them. The division into shares and complex allotments of
the ticket invested entail the making of illegible notes and memoranda
which serve to give a business-like air to the transactions. More small
boys, wearing a grin that makes up for the scantiness of their clothing,
dart in and out through the open doors with paper bags containing
pea-nuts, and soon dispose of their entire stock. Piles of these nuts
lie on each of the little tables, and the cracking and munching sounds
as they disappear make up for breaks in the conversation. The stone
floor soon assumes the aspect of a newly gravelled pavement, and the
parties begin to separate and make their ways to dinner. Thus early in
the evening is the “Central” saloon deserted, and should the visitor be
desirous of being in the crowd after this hour, he must seek some other
resort. At the numerous gatherings and entertainments which take place
in Panama a great variety and odd assortment of types from every quarter
of the globe are encountered. Quite apart from the casual gatherings of
transients at the hotels, there are many opportunities for those who
appreciate gaiety to indulge their taste to the full. Scarce a week
passes but there are two or three balls, receptions given by members of
clubs or private residents, and visitors to the city generally receive
invitations.
[Illustration: THE PLAZA, PANAMA.]
The weekly reception by the President is usually well attended by the
Panamanians and visitors, while many of the Canal Commission officials
put in an appearance, and with their white uniforms lighten the scene.
The official residence of the President guarded by about twenty
lounging, diminutive policemen, is alive with bustling movement, and
carriages in all stages of decay line the street outside. After leaving
your hat with a very unofficial-looking servant at the entrance, you
pass into a large _salon_, and are introduced to the President, who
stands near the door. Many of the leaders of fashion and society are
assembled in the room, and you soon discover that a free and easy air
entirely devoid of anything like formality pervades the apartment.
Puzzle games that long ago were sold by the vendors of cheap novelties
on the streets of big cities lie around on tables in heaps to amuse the
guests, while at circular tables, placed at one end of the room,
elderly, stout persons sit playing at the game of puff-ball. The room,
about one hundred feet long by thirty feet wide, is furnished with
gilded chairs and lounges and tables, and along the top of the walls,
doing duty as a frieze, are a series of poorly painted portraits.
These pictures are painted on the surface of the wall, and round each is
an oval frame or wreath, also painted in yellow colours, to represent
gilding.
Past Governors and patriots and statesmen all glare down on their
successors in the game of politics. For whom they all were intended, and
what names the originals bore, it is doubtful if any of the present
generation could tell, for all the South American republics have scores
of heroes whose reputations and fame have long been forgotten, and there
are few who have sufficient interest in the past to keep green the
records of the illustrious dead. The living specimens of “patriots,” who
with perfervid zeal talk of their country’s rights and wrongs, its
present and its future, are certainly a better-looking lot than their
predecessors, but it may be that the artists who limned the features of
the latter have not done the originals justice.
The ladies of Colombia are proverbial for their good looks, and those of
Panama are no exception. The popular conception of the jealousy of
Spanish husbands, who are commonly supposed to be rather ready with the
knife and stiletto, is quite erroneous, at least as far as Panama and
Colombia are concerned.
The ladies of Colombia affect the fashions of Europe and Paris, and in
Panama one sees but few of the older picturesque fashions that still
obtain in many of the cities and towns of the interior. Some of the
poorer classes still wear their thick, black hair in two long plaits
hanging over their shoulders, and a few of the costumes are rather
original, consisting of black silk skirts cut sufficiently close to show
the form, a large kerchief thrown over the head, and falling in long
folds down to the waist. The mantilla is worn by some, but newer
fashions are fast ousting every kind of national dress. In Cartagena and
Bogota are seen more of the older, picturesque forms, but it is only
amongst the lower orders
[Illustration: AN INTERIOR, CARTAGENA.]
in Panama that frills and flounces still linger. Smoking is quite common
amongst the women all over Latin America, and the fair sex in Colombia
are no exceptions. Their cigars are often carried in their hair. In
Panama the ladies have a freedom that is quite notorious; far from being
confined behind iron gratings, they are allowed the diversions of balls,
dances, supper parties, and receptions, without any fear of the control
of their husbands, who are not always in attendance. The Panamanian
_señoras_ are extremely good-natured, and their bright smiles and
dangerous glances are bestowed with a careless freedom that would shock
their fair sisters in Buenos Ayres. The education of women in South
America generally is not so far advanced as it is in the northern
continent or in Europe, though they are generally proficient, and
frequently excel in musical accomplishments. They are perhaps no worse
than the women of other lands in their love of gossiping and scandal,
and, accustomed to flattery from their earliest years, and with
interests narrowed down to a limited range of subjects, it is little
wonder that they are incapable of conversing long or interestedly upon
any topic save love, and that when it gives out they should fall back
upon scandal. They weary over books, and turn over the pages with but a
languid interest, and to any exercise save dancing they are naturally
averse. Their conversation is rather free and unrestrained, and they
talk glibly of the secret lovers of their dearest friends. Their beauty
is but skin deep and wears rather badly; their indolent habits cause
them soon to assume a bulkiness of form quite inconsistent with grace or
comeliness, and it is only their passionate devotion to dancing that
prevents them from becoming positively unwieldy.
Ministers and Consuls from other republics abound at the receptions and
balls, and the many fashions in whiskers, beards, and moustaches provoke
much comment and many smiles. Merchants, shopkeepers, doctors, lawyers,
concessioners, their wives and daughters, all jostle one another in the
crush. The rooms get stiflingly hot as the evening wears on; the balcony
outside is invitingly cool, and the quiet beauty of the night contrasts
strongly with the noise and glitter of the saloons. Across the bay lie
the undulating hills, all but lost in a translucent opal pall; the
myriads of stars overhead shine with a glory that evokes ejaculations of
admiration, the more brilliant of them are reflected with many a tremor
in the placid sea beneath. Lights on distant boats bob up and down,
while the murmur of the waves as they break gently on the shore makes a
music that can be heard above the sound made of all human speech that
floats out of the open doors from the _salon_.
At supper parties it is quite a usual thing for speeches proposing
toasts to be made, and when once they are started there is no stopping
the flow of oratory. They love long-worded speeches almost as much as
the Brazilians, and will listen to themselves and others for hours, and
it must be admitted that they have a ready if a simple wit on all
occasions. I have heard a Panamanian after dinner make an impromptu
speech, in which he felicitously described all the guests around the
table, and if his incisive humour was at times a little grotesque and
his satire biting, the subject of his jest was as delighted as the rest
of his audience at his sallies.
On the last day of the old year I had an opportunity of seeing the
Panamanians really enjoying and proving their capacity for entertaining
themselves. A ball was given by one of the clubs on 31 December, and as
their new president entered on his duties the moment the numerous clocks
in the city should cease striking twelve, a fine occasion for a speech
presented itself. All the company assembled in the ballroom about ten
minutes before the dying year yielded up its last gasp of time. The
ladies were seated on two long rows of chairs facing each other, while
their attendant cavaliers stood immediately behind them. Each held a
brimming glass, awaiting patiently till the time should arrive for the
toast. At the last stroke of midnight the new president of the club
stepped forward and addressed the assembly. As he went on speaking
eloquently of the high honour of the office to which he had been
elected, the duties of which he was now entering upon, expatiating on
the dignity of the position and the halo it spread round the holder, it
seemed probable that all the spirit, as well as the sparkle, would
evaporate from the generous wine before any of the guests would have a
chance of capturing it. When at last he made an end, after having been
actively engaged upon his new duties for full half an hour, all raised
their glasses and drank, not New Year’s wishes to one another, but to
the success of the club and the health of its new president.
Dancing was resumed when the glasses had been drained and wishes
exchanged for prosperity and happiness during the coming year, but it
was not until a late or, rather, early hour and after all the ladies had
been served with supper that the men settled down to the enjoyment of a
long-deferred repast. Bottle after bottle was emptied, and each one
round the festive table made a gallant effort to vie with his neighbour
in inventing some new toast. Every nationality represented at the board
was the recipient of lengthy adulation, and if the good feeling voiced
by all present could only be extended to the courts and Governments of
the world, little business would be left for Peace Congresses to
transact.
The whole of the first of January was devoted to a round of festivities,
and the powers of endurance displayed by many were amazing.
Hard or even moderate drinking is said to be a dangerous habit in hot
countries, and the medical profession is almost unanimous in condemning
the use of alcohol, whilst the old theory that it is a necessity in hot
climates has been exploded by scientific investigation, for the enlarged
liver which is so common in the torrid zone is no doubt contributed to
by the alcoholic habit.
But it is a notorious fact that inhabitants of countries subject to
earthquakes and volcanoes get inured to all idea of danger, and walk on
the very brink of disaster with a light and merry heart, indifferent to
the lessons of experience or the fate of their predecessors, and on that
New Year’s Day the orgies of the Buccaneers were equalled, if not
excelled, by many of the inhabitants.
“Where the longitude’s mean and the latitude’s low,
Where the hot winds of summer perennially blow,
Where the mercury chokes the thermometer’s throat,
And the dust is as thick as the hair on a goat,
Where one’s mouth is as dry as a mummy accurst,
There lieth the Land of Perpetual Thirst.”
At midday the bandstand in the Plaza was occupied by many of the leading
citizens, who with musical instruments, upon which they were incapable
of performing, were making an unearthly din, and had attracted a crowd
of the common people around them. Tables laden with champagne bottles
and glasses were placed between the groups of performers, who were not
less ardent in their attentions to the glass than to the instruments of
music which they converted into engines of torture. Whenever their
confused vision was capable of distinguishing friends amongst the
passers-by, an effort was made to strengthen their forces by a capture,
and wise persons kept in the background, and witnessed their descent
upon the unwary. Every now and then a scuffle would ensue, and those who
fell during its progress were content to remain in the positions they
had assumed, to the amusement of the spectators.
It is a custom to make good resolutions on New Year’s Day, and to turn
over a new leaf. On the following morning, although a trifle belated,
many resolves were made, and the penitents heartily swore that nothing
on earth should tempt them from their vows. The fervour with which they
denounced the cheering cup, and their repugnance to it, was a strong
illustration of the proverb, “Familiarity breeds contempt”; but by the
end of a week all traces of their exertions had disappeared, and most of
them were as ready as ever to face manfully any other duty in the way of
celebration that occasion might present.
[Illustration: IN THE MARKET, PANAMA.]