The City of Rangoon
Rangoon may not perhaps be rated as a great, but it is an important,
city. The population of Rangoon numbers above two hundred thousand,
without the usual thickly-inhabited suburbs. It is a seaport third in
importance in Southern Asia. Calcutta and Bombay are the only cities
that surpass it. The capital of the province of Burma, it is the center
of official life. Being situated so near the sea, only twenty miles
inland, and having the best of harbors and every connection with the
interior, both by rail and river, its importance as a trading center is
very great. Compared to other Indian cities, it is more important than
many with a greater population, while it is doubtful if any city in all
the seacoasts of Southern Asia is of equal importance in proportion to
its population. Then, it has the advantage of being a newly-planned
city. As such it has straight streets, crossing at right angles for
the most part, like Western cities of the modern plan. However, this
admirable arrangement has been of far less advantage than it would have
been, because the blocks are too narrow to be utilized to the best
advantage. This blunder has, unhappily, been perpetuated in the great
new addition that has been made on the eastward of the city. It would
seem that experience in this matter would have taught the municipality
better things; but like other things Oriental, I suppose, they found
it very difficult to get adapted to anything new. As the beginning was
made that way, the end must be the same. But in the one fact that the
streets are straight and at right angles, there is an advantage that
is not found in any other Oriental city. The streets are kept well
paved, and the general improvements are progressive, except in two
very important particulars. They still use poor kerosene in inferior
lamps for street lighting. Ten years ago I went to the municipal
engineer, and asked him if it was not feasible to light the city with
electricity, instead of the obsolete methods then, as now, in vogue.
He said: “Yes, it might be; but we are not so enterprising as you in
America. We will wait ten years, and see if a new thing works well
before we adopt it.” The ten years are passed, and still the smoky old
lamps send out their indifferent light and obnoxious odors--too many of
which befoul any Oriental city--because the municipal authorities have
not yet found out that electric lighting is a success. This is being
written in America, where most little towns of one or two thousand
population are being well lighted with electricity, while over the sea
the great city of Rangoon, with two hundred thousand inhabitants and
large revenues, can not yet venture on this modern system of lighting
its streets.
There is, also, a lamentable backwardness in the matter of street
railways. There is a poorly-built and poorly-kept street railway run by
steam. But there is little comfort in the car service, and the motive
power is antiquated steam engines. The street railway, such as it
is, is not extended to such limits as it should be. Were the streets
lighted with electric-lights and a system of electric cars adequate to
the city and suburbs running, these public improvements would be in
keeping with what Rangoon is in the matter of trade.
There is only one other city in Burma of nearly the same number of
inhabitants as Rangoon, and that is Mandalay, the capital of Upper
Burma. This city was the capital of independent Burma in modern
times. When the British annexed Upper Burma in 1886, they projected
the railway to the city of Mandalay, and as it already had steamer
connection with Lower Burma, its many advantages as a distributing
center maintained its continued growth. While it has a population
nearly equal to Rangoon, it has nothing else to be compared with the
latter city.
There is a very great contrast between the two cities in the matter
of racial population. While Mandalay has some immigrants from other
lands, like other cities and towns of Burma, the city as a whole is
distinctly Burman. Rangoon, on the other hand, is so foreign in its
makeup that it can not be called a Burmese city. Relatively, very few
Burmans live in the main part of the city. Here you find many peoples
of India. There are wide areas of the city given over to the Tamils,
Telegus, Bengalis, Gujaratties, and Chinese; while yet other Indian
people are found in this Indian community to the exclusion of the
Burmese. The Burmese live chiefly at both ends of the city of Rangoon,
where there is much trading in rice and other dealings of a Burmese
character. The Burmese have given way before the immigrants of India,
largely because they are an independent and proud race, and will not
do the work commonly done by the coolies and servants about the city.
They look upon the immigrant from India as an inferior, and they will
not allow themselves to be his competitor for the more menial services
and work of the city. The Burmese, therefore, collect chiefly where
they have occupation congenial to their tastes. It is significant that
the Burman will work at almost anything, where the Madrassis and other
Indian people are not working alongside of him. But where there may be
constant contrasts or comparisons in inferior positions, he will not
condescend to go. So he gives way to the native as indicated, not from
necessity, but from choice.
Rangoon is a great trade center. The two greatest industries are that
of the lumber trade and the traffic in rice. The lumber manufacture and
sale has had previous mention. I will only add that immense sawmills
line the river front at frequent intervals, and the logs lie in the
river in great rafts, or in heaps on land. There are perhaps scores of
elephants at work in connection with these mills.
The rice mills are conducted on a very large scale. The plan is common
to make advances to brokers, who go out and loan money on the growing
crop and agree to take the rice, which in the husk is called “paddy,”
at harvest time, at a given rate per hundred baskets. The basket holds
about a bushel. Usually the price ranges about one hundred rupees
for a hundred baskets, though often the rice is a fourth above or a
fourth below this amount. The rupee is equal to thirty cents. As the
price of rice is impossible of calculation so many months in advance
of harvest, the millers who advance the money to the brokers, who
are usually Burmans, and the brokers who advance the money to the
cultivators agreeing to take “paddy” at a given rate at harvest, and
the cultivators, all base their calculations upon guesses usually
wrong, the whole system has much of the elements of gambling, like the
dealing in futures on an American Board of Trade. The rice is husked
and cleaned in these great mills, and sold to buyers from abroad,
or in the local markets for food. Often the cleaned rice is sent to
Europe, and converted into some kind of intoxicants, and comes back
to curse the land out of which it grew. It is noteworthy that most of
these greater business enterprises that call for great organization
are managed by Europeans. But there are many merchants in wholesale or
retail business that are of all races. The Chinamen are busy traders,
and will doubtless have a more controlling voice in the affairs of
business as time goes forward.
Of all the trade in the country, there are two features that are a
source of unmixed evil--the trade in opium, and the trade in liquor. It
is true that the Government tries to keep the opium trade under very
severe regulations; but it is always a failure to try to regulate that
which itself feeds upon vice. The amount of liquor brought into Burma
is something enormous. It is true that there are more people that do
not drink than formerly, and those that still drink are less given
to excessive drunkenness than in earlier years; yet there are more
people in the land, and there are more of the natives, particularly
Burmese, that are using intoxicants, in imitation of Europeans, and
therefore the quantity of liquor brought to the country to supply this
demand is greater than ever before. The ship that our party went on to
Rangoon carried three missionaries and three hundred tons of liquor. I
have no doubt this would not be above the average cargo for steamers
plying between European ports and Burma. It is astonishing how this
liquor has entered into ordinary trade. Most of the great importing
houses deal in liquors. Most of the retail houses likewise. So it
becomes difficult for a young man who is hostile to the whole liquor
business to get work in any of the retail “shops,” as they are called,
without staining his hands in this unholy traffic. One of the great
reforms on the temperance questions in the East will be to develop a
sentiment antagonistic to the traffic, until liquor-selling can not be
countenanced as a respectable business.
[Illustration: THE NEW PUBLIC OFFICES, RANGOON]
Rangoon has several good public buildings, the greatest of these
being the Government House, the residence of his honor the
lieutenant-governor, and the great secretariat building, which is
situated on grounds reserved for its use, in the center of the city.
The latter building has been completed only about five years, and when
newly occupied was considerably shaken by the heavy earthquake, which
shook Rangoon and vicinity. But the damage done has been repaired, and
the great building adorns the city and serves the purpose for which it
was erected. There is also the elegant Jubilee Hall erected in honor of
Queen Victoria’s illustrious reign.
Rangoon is divided into two distinct parts. The one is on the flat land
adjoining the river, and extending a third of a mile back, and some
four miles in length. This includes most of the business portion and
all the crowded districts of the city. Here many thousands of people
literally swarm by day, and sleep twenty in a single room at night.
This portion of the city is called “The Town.” It is almost always
very dirty, except when washed by heavy rains. Here are still seen old
buildings of every sort. However, these are disappearing more rapidly
than one would anticipate, from the fact that they were originally
all constructed of wood, and during the dry weather there have been
frequent friendly fires of late years, and the town is by this means
relieved of a good many unsightly structures. Henceforth there are to
be no wooden buildings erected in the center of the city.
During the rains we are treated to a curious effect of the excessive
moisture of the climate. Many of the old houses have been roofed by
clay tiling. When this tiling is not frequently turned, the spores of
certain weeds, which have gathered on the tiles as the rains increase
and the clouds settle down in unbroken shadows over the land, spring up
and grow to the height of two feet or more, growing as thick as grass
in a meadow. This makes a house a very curious-looking object. A human
habitation or church grown all over with weeds! When the clouds break
away and the sun comes out, these weeds dry to a crisp.
Any student of a people, and most of all a missionary, is early
attracted by the religious life of men. Of the many races that mix,
but do not blend, in the population of Rangoon, each brings his own
religion from the land of his birth. Each holds to his own faith with
the greatest persistency, as a rule. Men will have dealings together
on all subjects, except in religion. Here they differ widely, and
they generally do not compromise their religious convictions or
observance. Sometimes their dispositions to each other are that of
covert hostility. But generally they get on in outward peace, but do
not think of becoming proselytes to any other religion. The religious
rites at the shrines are kept up faithfully. The great religious feasts
are observed with much pomp. The social customs that are connected with
each religion are seldom broken. So living side by side are adherents
of every religion under the sun.
In the center of Dalhousie Street in Rangoon is a large pagoda, a
shrine of the Buddhists, with its gilded conical shape rising far above
all other buildings in the vicinity, while from its umbrella-like top
there goes out on the tropical air the sweet sound of bells that hang
on the rim of the umbrella. Just across the street from this pagoda is
a mosque where the Mohammedan business men and passers-by go five times
a day to pray. Two blocks east from these is a Hindu temple, and three
or four blocks west is a Chinese temple, where their religious rites
are observed, consisting mostly of offerings to devils. These temples
are only samples. I understand there are a score of mosques in Rangoon.
The number of Hindu temples I do not know, while there are pagodas in
every quarter. There are various Chinese temples also. Throughout the
city are now found several Christian Churches. Here the gospel light is
held up to dispel the soul-darkening counsels of the Christless faiths.
At a glance at these sacred places and religious rites it will be seen
that the conflict between religious ideas and practices is general, and
probably will become world-wide. The Europeans that go to that country
must represent the Christian religion, or deteriorate religiously. The
non-Christians must stand by their own, or in time they too will become
modified. This is wholly independent of the aggressive battle that
the missionary would wage against all these non-Christian religious
systems. It is a significant fact that the missionaries who are in the
midst of the religious life, so opposed to all they hold dear in faith
and practice, have unbounded confidence in the final triumph of the
gospel in leavening the present-day pagan faiths, as it did those of
the New Testament times. I have yet to meet a hopeless missionary. This
note of the hopeful conquering missionary force is an inbreathing of
the Spirit of our Lord, who from his throne sends forth his heralds.
One fact will show how intense is the religious faith among some of the
Asiatics. The Mohammedans and the Hindus are often very hostile to each
other. If it were not for the hand of the English Government in India,
this hostility would be almost continually breaking out into open
violence in some parts of the country. As it is, it is not seldom that
religious riots occur. In 1894, during a Mohammedan feast, in which
they are accustomed to sacrifice a cow, the Mohammedans were determined
to slaughter the animal not far from a business house of a rich Hindu,
on whose premises there was also a private temple. As the Hindus
worship the cow, and as the killing of such an animal, especially in
religious services, is an abomination to them, they were naturally
much incensed, and the Mohammedans probably meant that they should be.
In this case the Mohammedans seemed to be the aggressors throughout.
The fanatical antagonism was growing dangerous. The authorities were
watching the movements of these two parties, the Mohammedans giving
most concern. Several days went by, and the feeling was at fever heat.
Sunday came, and as I rode to church with my family in the early
morning, I saw on every street companies of Mohammedans carrying clubs
faced with irons, hurrying toward the center of the town where their
greatest mosque is, and near which they meant to sacrifice the cow.
Just as I concluded the morning service, I heard the sound of distant
firing. In a few moments a Mohammedan ran by the church, with his face
partly shot away. The excitement in the city grew as the facts became
known.
[Illustration: THE MOSQUE, RANGOON]
The deputy commissioner and other officers were present at the center
of the disturbance with a small company of Seik soldiers. The mob grew
to many thousands, and the officers commanded them to disperse. This
order they refused in derisive language. Then blank cartridges were
fired to frighten the multitude, and still they refused to disperse.
As there was nothing left to do, the troops were ordered to fire into
the crowd that thronged about the mosque. Some thirty or more were
shot, several being killed outright. This dispersed the crowds, but
there was rioting for days whenever Mohammedans would find a Hindu away
from his associates, or in unfrequented or unprotected localities. Had
it not been for these rigorous measures of the authorities, the whole
community would have been given over to violence. As it was, the whole
Mohammedan community was doubly policed for six months, and the extra
expense was put on to the tax of that particular community. This was
effective in keeping order, and when the time had run its course, the
Mohammedans petitioned the local Government that if these extra police
were taken away, they would behave themselves, which they have done
ever since.
While “the Town” is such a center of life and strife, the suburbs are a
place of quiet, rest, cleanliness, and beauty unsurpassed. The military
cantonment is here, with perhaps nearly a mile square, laid out in
large blocks and roomy compounds, or yards. A rule has long been in
force in the cantonment, that there could only be one house erected on
a lot. Most of these lots contain from one to four acres. This gives
the room necessary to beautify the grounds, and to secure pure air.
The cantonment is now being curtailed, and doubtless this admirable
regulation may be modified. But as this land rises a little higher than
the town, and, being a little apart from it, it will continue to be of
great value for homes. The entire suburbs have a fine growth of trees,
many of them natural forest trees and others ornamental, and planted
for shade.
[Illustration: ENTRANCE OF SWAY DAGON PAGODA]
The chief object of all the region, the great Pagoda, is situated about
the middle of this cantonment portion of the suburbs. But the suburbs
run far beyond the cantonment. It reaches on three sides of this
reserve, while the whole region to the northward is being occupied and
built upon. There is a fine grove of forest and fruit trees extending
most of the way to Insein, nine miles from Rangoon, and nearly all
the intermediate area is built up with fine residences of Europeans,
or rich natives. The homes out in the groves, and with large fruit
gardens, furnish the ideal place for rest and refreshment after the
work of the hot day in “the Town.” It is a fact that Europeans who have
lived for a while in this portion of the city of Rangoon seem loath to
leave it for any place. If they go back to Europe, they mostly return
again to Rangoon. Government House, a large palatial building, the
residence of the lieutenant-governor, is the central attraction of all
the fine residences of this region.
There are three areas of great beauty reserved by the authorities--the
Zoological Gardens, the Cantonment Gardens, and the Royal Lakes. All
these reserves are beautiful with every variety of tree, bush, and
flower that grows in the tropics, and the grounds are laid out with
artistic care, and lakelets beautify the whole. But the “Royal Lakes”
are a series of natural and artificial water basins, all connected and
adorned with beautiful little islands and curved shore lines. A portion
of the inclosure is kept as a public park, and a winding drive is
maintained along the water’s edge, which gives an ever-changing picture
of tropical beauty. The effect of the palms, the mangoes, and other
shade and ornamental trees, toning down the fierce glare of the sun,
and these shades reflected from the clear water on a tropical evening,
is a blending of color that I have never seen anywhere equaled. The
world has many places of beauty, but of those views I have seen nothing
equals the “Royal Lakes” of Rangoon for combinations of charming
scenery in a limited area. Evening and morning this drive is crowded
with vehicles of every type. Rangoonites of every race are out taking
in the air and scenery. Here in the evening may be seen hundreds of
people dressed in the coolest apparel, visiting and resting, while
two or three evenings a week the band entertains with music. It is no
wonder that Rangoon makes an attractive city for business and pleasure
for any whose lot is cast in this tropical land. The heat is never as
intense as in Indian cities, and always in the hottest weather it is
modified with a sea-breeze. In the long and heavy rains also the people
seem to get no harm from a frequent exposure.
[Illustration: ROYAL LAKES AT EVENTIDE, RANGOON]