
The Critic in the Orient
The Kashmir, Kabul and Lahore gates at Delhi are interesting because they were the scenes of many acts of heroism during the mutiny. On the Ridge a massive but ugly stone memorial has been erected to those who fell in the mutiny. The position is fine but the monument, like all the other memorials of the mutiny, is not impressive because of its poor design. Other interesting objects which recall incidents in this great struggle against the Sepoys are suitably inscribed.
Scenes in Bombay When the King Arrived
The ancient city of Bombay, the gateway of India and the largest commercial metropolis of the empire, was in festival garb because of the visit of the King and Queen of England. Fully four hundred thousand people came in from the surrounding country to see their rulers from over the sea and to enjoy the novel spectacle of illuminated buildings, decorative arches, military processions and fireworks. Hence Bombay was seen at its best in its strange mixture of races and costumes. In this respect it is more Oriental and more picturesque than Singapore.
The first thing that impresses a stranger is the number, size and beauty of the public buildings. The Town Hall looks not unlike many American city structures – as it is classic, with Doric pillars and an imposing flight of steps; but nearly all the other buildings are of Indian architecture, with cupolas and domes, recessed windows and massive, pointed gateways. They are built of a dark stone, and the walls (three and four feet in thickness) seem destined to last forever. The rooms are from sixteen to twenty feet in height; above the tall doors and windows are transoms; the floors are of mosaic or stone; everything about the buildings appears designed to endure. The streets are very wide and the sidewalks are arranged under colonnades in front of the buildings, so that one may walk an entire block without coming out into the fierce Indian sunshine.
All the main streets converge into the Apollo Bunder, a splendid driveway like the Maidan in Calcutta. It sweeps around the sea wall and if any breeze is stirring in Bombay one may get it here at nightfall. From six o'clock to eight thirty or nine o'clock all Bombay turns out for a drive on the Apollo Bunder. The line of fine carriages and motor cars is continuous for miles, going out the Esplanade to Queen's road, which runs for five miles to Malabar head, the favorite residence place of the wealthy foreign colony. What will astonish any one accustomed to Calcutta and other East Indian cities is the large representation of Parsee families in this evening dress parade. Two-thirds of the finest equipages belong to the Parsees, who are very richly dressed in silks and adorned with fortunes in diamonds, rubies and other precious stones. Here and there may be distinguished rich Hindoos or Mohammedans out for an airing. The women of the latter sect are concealed behind the carriage covers, but the Hindoo and Parsee women show their faces, their jewelry and their beautiful costumes with evident pleasure. Nearly all these women wear fortunes in diamonds in their ears or in bracelets on their arms. In no dress parade in any other city have I noted so many large diamonds, rubies and emeralds as in this procession of carriages in Bombay.
Another thing that impresses the stranger in Bombay is the sympathy and the good feeling that seems to exist between the leading Europeans of the city and the prominent natives. This is in great contrast to the exclusiveness that marks the Briton in other East Indian cities. Here the President and a majority of the members of the Municipal Council are Parsees; while a number of Hindoos and Mohammedans are represented. When the King and Queen of England were received, the address of welcome was read by the Parsee President of the Council, while a bouquet was presented to the Queen by the President's wife, dressed in her graceful sari or robe of ecru silk, edged with a black border, heavy with ornamental gold work. This mingling of the races in civic life is due to the domination of the Parsee element, which came over to Bombay from Persia three hundred years ago, when driven from their old homes by Moslem intolerance. Here these people, who strongly resemble the Jews in their fondness for trade and their skill in finance, have amassed imperial fortunes. The richest of these Parsee bankers and merchants, Sir Jamsetjee Jeejeebhoy, left much of his great fortune to charity. He founded a university, schools and hospitals and his name figures on a dozen fine buildings. Other prominent Parsee families are the Sassoons and Jehangirs. Yet, despite their wealth and their association with Europeans, the Parsees have kept themselves unspotted from the world. They do not recognize any mingling of their blood with the foreigner. A Parsee who marries a European woman must accept virtual expatriation, while the wife (although she may bear him children) is never allowed any of the privileges of a native woman in this life and when she dies her body cannot be consigned to the Parsee burial place. She is always an alien and nothing that she can do is able to break down this racial wall that separates her from her husband's people. The marriage of Parsee women to foreigners is practically unknown. The Parsee wears a distinctive costume. The men dress in white linen or pongee trousers, with coat of dark woolen or alpaca; they like foreign shirts and collars, but their headgear is the same as that used by the refugees from Persia over three hundred years ago. One cap is of lacquered papier-mache in the form of a cow's hoof inverted. Another is a round cap of gray cloth, finely made, worn over a skull cap of velvet or embroidered cloth, which is worn indoors. The women wear the sari or robe, which consists of one piece of silk or brocade, with an embroidered band. This garment is draped around the body and brought up over the head, covering the right ear. They all wear shoes and stockings.
The Parsees are all well educated and most of them possess unusual refinement. So strong is the pride of race among them that they do not tolerate any mendicancy among their own people. Their charitable associations care for the few Parsees who are unable to make a living, so that their paupers never make any claim upon the municipal government for aid. They also boast that none of their women may be found among the denizens of the red-light district. Most of the educated Parsees speak English, French and German, besides Gugerati (the native dialect) and most of them read and write English, Gugerati and Urdu, which is the written form of Hindustani. Yet the Parsees are genuine Orientals. They sit on chairs, but most of their houses are scantily furnished. They are remarkably fond of sweets, fruits and nuts. They seem insensible to the surroundings of their homes, many living in crowded streets and up many flights of stairs. In their homes all their treasures are kept in the family safe. If you are fortunate enough to be received in one of these Parsee homes you will be amazed at the wealth in jewelry and personal ornaments which are possessed even by families of modest fortune. A Parsee woman of this class will have invested five thousand dollars in jewelry, much of which she will wear on festive occasions.
Many of the big shipping and cotton merchants of Bombay are Parsees and they also control much of the banking of the city. It was due largely to the liberality of the Parsees that the city of Bombay was able to present to the King a memorial in gold and silver that cost seventeen thousand rupees, or over five thousand five hundred dollars in American money. This reception to the King and Queen when they landed at Bombay on their way to Delhi Durbar was very typical of the life of the city. Remarkable preparations had been made; a series of arches spanned the principal streets, all designed in native style. At the end of the Apollo Bunder was erected a pretty, white pavilion that looked like a miniature Taj, while a splendid avenue, lined with pillars, led up to the great amphitheater, in front of which, under an ornate pavilion, were the golden thrones of the King and Queen. This amphitheater was reserved for all the European and native notables, as well as the Maharajahs and chiefs from the neighboring States.
After the reception to the royal party came a parade through the principal streets and when this was concluded all restrictions were relaxed and the populace and the visitors from surrounding towns gave themselves up to an evening of enjoyment. The buildings were illuminated, some with white and others with red electric lights, while many large structures were lighted by little oil lamps, in a cup or glass. The main streets were filled with long lines of carriages, crowded with richly dressed natives and Europeans, although the natives outnumbered the foreigners by one hundred to one. Never in my life have I seen so many valuable jewels as on this night, when I roamed about the streets for two hours, enjoying this Oriental holiday. At times I would stop and sit on one of the stands and watch the crowd flow by in a steady stream. Walking by the side of a Parsee millionaire and his richly dressed family would pass a Hindoo woman of low caste, one of the street sweepers, in dirty rags, but loaded down on ankles and arms by heavy silver bangles and painted in the center of the forehead with her caste mark. She was followed by a poverty-stricken Mohammedan leading a little boy, stark naked, while a girl with brilliant cap held the boy's hand. A naked Tamil, with only a dirty loin cloth, brushed elbows with three Parsee girls, beautifully dressed. And so this purely democratic human tide flowed on for hours, rich and poor showing a childlike pleasure in the street decorations and the variegated crowd. And in the midst of all this turmoil native parties from out of town squatted on the deserted tiers of seats, ate their suppers with relish and then calmly composed themselves to sleep, wrapped in their robes, as though they were in the privacy of their own homes. It was a spectacle such as could be seen only in an Oriental city with a people who live in public with the placid unconsciousness of animals.
Religion and Customs of the Bombay Parsees
The Parsees of Bombay – a mere handful of exiles among millions of aliens – have so exerted their power as to change the life of a great city. Proscribed and persecuted, they have developed so powerfully their aptitude for commercial life that they represent the wealth of Bombay. Living up to the tenets of their creed, they have given far more liberally to charity and education than any other race. Some idea of the respect in which the Parsee is held may be gained from the fact that customs officers never search the baggage of one of these people; they take the Parsee's word that he has no dutiable goods. The commercial success and the high level of private life among the Parsees is due directly to their religion, which was founded by Zoroaster in ancient Persia three thousand years ago. As Max-Muller has well said, if Darius had overthrown Alexander of Greece, the modern world would probably have inherited the faith of Zoroaster, which does not differ in most of its essentials from the creed of Christ.
The popular idea of a Parsee is that he worships the sun. This is a misconception, due probably to the fact that the Parsee when saying his prayers always faces the sun or, in default of this, prays before a sacred fire in his temples; but he does not worship the sun, nor any gods or idols. His temples are bare, only the sacred fire of sandalwood burning in one corner. The Parsee recognizes an overruling god, Ahura-Mazda, the creator of the universe; he believes that Nature with its remarkable laws could not have come into being without a great first cause. But he believes that the universe created by Ahura-Mazda was invaded by a spirit of evil, Angra-Mainyush, which invites men to wicked deeds, falsehood and ignorance. Over against this evil spirit is the good spirit, Spenta-Mainyush, which represents God and stands for truth, goodness and knowledge. The incarnation of the evil spirit is known as Aherman, who corresponds to the Christian devil.
The whole Parsee creed is summed up in three words, which correspond to good thoughts, good words and good deeds. If one carries out in his life this creed, then his good thoughts, good words and good deeds will be his intercessors on the great bridge that leads the spirit from death to the gates of paradise. If his evil deeds and thoughts and words overbalance the good, then he goes straight down to the place of darkness and torment. If his good and evil deeds and thoughts exactly balance, then he passes into a kind of purgatory.
Fire, water and earth are all sacred to the Parsee; but fire represents the principle of creation and hence is most sacred. To him fire is the most perfect symbol of deity because of its purity, brightness and incorruptibility. The sacred fire that burns constantly in the Parsee temples is fed with chips of sandalwood. Prayer with the Parsee is obligatory, but it need not be said in the fire temple; the Parsee may pray to the sun or moon, the mountains or the sea. His prayer is first repentance for any evil thoughts or deeds and then for strength to lead a life of righteousness, charity and good deeds.
The most remarkable result of the Parsee religion is seen in the education of children. This is made a religious duty, and neglect of it entails terrible penalties – for the parents are responsible for the offenses of the badly-educated child, just as they share in the merit for good deeds performed by their children. It is the duty of a good Parsee not only to educate his own children but to do all in his power to help in general education. Hence the large benefactions that rich Parsees have made to found institutions for the education of the poor. Disobedience of children is one of the worst sins. The Parsees are also taught to observe sanitary laws, to bathe frequently, to take all measures to prevent the spread of contagion. Cleanliness is one of the chief virtues. To keep the earth pure the Parsee is enjoined to cultivate it. He is also admonished to drink sparingly of wine and not to sell it to any one who uses liquor to excess.
The Parsee creed urges the believer to help the community in which he lives and to give freely to charity. Sir Jamsetjee Jeejeebhoy, the richest Parsee Bombay has known, set aside a fund of four million seven hundred and forty-three thousand rupees for charity and benevolence among all the people of his city, regardless of race or creed. The Parsee gives liberally to charity on the occasion of weddings or of deaths. The charity includes relieving the poor, helping a man to marry and aiding poor children to secure an education. The influence of the Parsee religion upon the literature and life of the people is very marked. There is no room for atheism, agnosticism or materialism. Faith in the existence of God and in the immortality of the soul is the corner-stone of the creed, but the Parsee spends no money and no effort in proselyting others.
Marriage is encouraged by the Parsee religion, because it encourages a virtuous and religious life. The marriage ceremony is peculiar. It is always performed in a large pavilion, whatever the wealth of the couple. In the case of the rich many invitations are issued and a fine wedding feast is spread. On the day set for the wedding, the bride and groom and the invited guests assemble in the pavilion. The bride as well as the groom is dressed in white. When the time comes for the ceremony the couple sit in chairs facing each other and a sheet is held up between them by friends, so that they cannot see each other. Then two priests begin intoning the marriage service. After several prayers a cord is wound around the two chairs seven times and the chairs are also bound together with a strip of cloth. More prayers and exhortations follow, both priests showering rice upon the couple. Finally the sheet is withdrawn, they and their chairs are placed side by side, each is given a cocoanut to hold that is bound to the other by a string, emblematic of the plenty that may bless the new home, and they are declared man and wife. Then they sign a document certifying that they have been united according to the Parsee ritual and witnesses sign their names.
Far stranger than the wedding customs of the Parsees are their burial rites. They believe that neither fire, earth nor water must be polluted by contact with a dead body, so neither burial nor cremation is permitted. Instead, they expose their dead to vultures which strip the flesh from the bones within an hour. This occurs in conical places, called towers of silence, which are shut off from human gaze. The Bombay towers of silence are on Malabar head, a beautiful residence district overlooking the city. Here, in a fine garden planted to many varieties of trees and shrubs, are five circular towers, each about twenty feet high, made of brick, covered with plaster.
While you are admiring the flowers and trees a funeral enters the gates. The body is carried by four professional bearers and is followed by two priests and the relatives and friends. All the mourners are clothed in white. They walk two by two, no matter how distant may be the house of death, each couple holding a handkerchief as a symbol of their union in sorrow. When the procession reaches the top of the hill the mourners diverge and take seats in the house of prayer, where the sacred fire is burning, or they seat themselves in the beautiful garden for meditation and prayer. The priests deliver the body to the two corpse bearers, who throw open the great iron door and enter with the body. The floor of the tower is of iron grating, arranged in three circles – the outer for men, the next for women and the inner for children. As the bearers lay the body down, they strip off the shroud. Then the iron door closes with a clang. This is the signal for a score of vultures to swoop down upon the body. No human eye can see this spectacle, but the imagination of the visitor pictures it in all its horror. Within a few minutes the gorged vultures begin flapping their way to the top of the tower, where they roost on the outer rim.
The bones of the corpse are allowed to remain for several days exposed to the fierce sun. Then they are thrown into a great central well, where the climate soon converts them into dust. This is washed by the rains into underground wells. Charcoal in these wells serves to filter the rain water before it enters the ground. Thus do the Parsees preserve even the earth from contamination by the ashes of the dead. No expense is spared by the Parsees in the construction of these towers of silence, which are always placed on the tops of hills. According to the testimony of some of the ablest medical men of England and America, who have examined these burial grounds, the Parsee method of disposing of the dead is the most sanitary that has ever been devised. It avoids even the fumes that are given off in cremation of the dead. It is also cheap and absolutely democratic, as the bones of the rich and poor mingle at last in the well of the tower of silence.
There is nothing offensive to European taste in the towers of silence except the vultures. These disgusting birds, like the Indian crow, are protected because they are admirable scavengers. The Parsees see nothing offensive in exposing their dead to these birds nor apparently does it shock them that alien hands should bare the bodies of their beloved dead; but to a foreigner both these aspects of Parsee burial are repellant and no argument has any weight to counteract this sentiment.
Many sensational accounts of these Parsee burial rites have been printed. Nearly every writer lays stress on the fact that pieces of the dead bodies are dropped by the vultures within the grounds or in the streets outside. This is an absurdity, as the vulture never rises on the wing with any carrion – he eats it on the spot and he will not leave until he is gorged to repletion. An effort was made several years ago to remove these towers of silence on Malabar hill because of complaints that fragments of corpses were found in the neighborhood. When two competent medical experts investigated the matter they reported that there was no foundation for the complaints. So the towers have remained and thousands of Parsees have been borne to them for the last rites of their creed.
EGYPT, THE HOME OF HIEROGLYPHS, TOMBS AND MUMMIES
Picturesque Oriental Life as Seen in Cairo
The first impression of Cairo is bewildering. None of the Oriental cities east of Port Said is at all like it in appearance or in street life. The color, the life, the picturesqueness, the noises, all these are distinctive. Kyoto, Manila, Hongkong, Singapore, Rangoon, Calcutta, Bombay and Colombo – each has marked traits that differentiate it from all other cities, but several have marked likenesses. Cairo differs from all these in having no traits in common with any of them. It stands alone as the most kaleidoscopic of cities, the most bizarre in its mingling of the Orient and the Occident.
Ismail Pasha, who loved to ape the customs of the foreigner, made a deliberate attempt to convert Cairo into a second Paris, by cutting great avenues through the narrow, squalid streets of the old city, but Ismail simply transformed a certain quarter of the place and spoiled its native character. What he could not do, fortunately, was to rob the Egyptian of his picturesqueness or make the chief city of Egypt other than a great collection of Oriental bazars and outdoor coffee shops, as full of the spirit of the East as the camel or the Bedouin of the desert.
The ride from Port Said to Cairo on the train, which consumes four hours, is interesting mainly as a revelation of what the Nile means to these people, who without its life-giving water would be unable to grow enough to live on. With abundant irrigation this Nile delta is one of the garden spots of the earth.
The villages that we pass remind one somewhat of old Indian villages on the fringe of the desert in California and Arizona – the same walls of sun-baked adobe; the roofs of any refuse from tree pruning; the goats and chickens on terms of intimacy with the single living-room. But the people are not of the Western world. Dressed in voluminous black or blue cotton robes, which are pulled up over their heads to protect them from the keen wind of winter, they belong to the land as absolutely as the tawny, dust-colored camel. The dress of the women appears to differ very little from that of the men, but always the women gather a loose fold of their dress and bring it over the head, thus partially concealing the face. Men, women and children, all in bare feet, squat in the sand or sit hunched up against the sunny side of their houses. Beyond any other Orientals I have seen, these Egyptians have the capacity for unlimited loafing under circumstances that would drive an American insane in a few hours. Flies swarm over them; passing donkeys or camels powder them with dust; the fierce sun beats down on their heads; but all these things they accept philosophically as an inevitable part of life, as something decreed by fate which it would be useless and senseless to change.
The first walk down the Street of the Camel in Cairo is one not soon forgotten. Before you are clear of the hotel steps an Arab in a sweater and loose skirt, something like the Malay sarong, rushes up and shouts: "The latest New York Herald; just came this morning!" Although you tell him "no" and shake your head, he follows you for half a block. Meanwhile you are badgered by dealers in scarabs, beads, stamps, postal cards, silver shawls and various curios, who dog your heels, and, when you finally lose your temper, retaliate by shouting: "Yankee!" through their noses. These street peddlers are wonderfully keen judges of nationality and they manage to make life a burden to the American tourist by their unwearied and smiling persistence. This is due in great part to the foolish liberality of American travelers, who are inclined to accept the first price offered, although with an Egyptian or an Arab this is usually twice or three times what he finally agrees to take.
Custom and habit probably blunt one's sensibilities in time, but this constant annoyance by peddlers detracts much from the pleasure of any stroll through Cairo streets. To the new arrival everything is novel and attractive. The main avenues are wide, well paved and lined with spacious sidewalks, but here the European touch ends. After passing some fine shops, their windows filled with costly goods from all parts of Egypt and the Soudan, one comes upon one of the great cafes that form a distinctive feature of Cairo street life. Here the sidewalk is half filled with small tables, about which are grouped Egyptians and foreigners drinking the sweet Turkish coffee that is served here at all hours of the day.