A Tibetan Girl
His next torture comes in the shape of piercing his poor little ears. The lobes are rubbed between the first finger and thumb until they become numbed, then with a long silver or brass pin the hole is made, the fond mother being again the operator. As care is never taken to disinfect the pin from the accumulation of dirt upon it, and as that very same pin has for generations been used in the various capacities of tooth-, nose-, and ear-pick, nail-cleaner, and head- and back-scratcher, it is not infrequent to find that the ear-piercing operation is accompanied by inflammation or some nasty sore or other, causing the little fellow much unnecessary pain. Heavy ear-rings are next inserted, elongating and disfiguring the little ears, in many instances the [[129]]lobes actually tearing down altogether owing to the weight of the ear-ring.
Until a few months old the baby is made to lie in a basket, in which he is carried about on his mother’s back—that is to say, if the mother is in a comfortable enough position to own a basket. Otherwise she will carry him on her back, suspended by his little arms, which she tightly clasps over her shoulders; and as this mode of transport somewhat lacks comfort, it is rather curious to notice the intelligence of Tibetan babies in order to feel the least inconvenience possible. Under similar circumstances the average civilised baby who felt his little arms almost pulled out of their sockets would very likely cry and scream, helplessly dangling his legs in order to be again deposited on terra firma. The Tibetan baby knows better. Guided only by his instincts, he will clasp his mother’s waist with his little toes, so supple that he can use them almost like fingers. By thus supporting his own weight upon her hips in the identical position of a monkey climbing a tree, the tension on his arms is absolutely released and he looks quite at his ease, even comfortable.
Babies in Tibet, as in other lands, do not lack a temporary charm. They are by nature good, [[130]]well-behaved babies; occasionally they are even jolly. The clothes in which their mothers garb them are not devoid of quaintness,—as can be judged by some of the illustrations,—and if often size is preferred to style, it is, as in most countries, for economy’s sake. Sometimes I have seen babies simply smothered in beads and ornaments, but even the humblest displays a row of beads round his neck and a charm or two.
Tibetan Woman of the Commoner Class
Notwithstanding what has been said of the strange marital customs, the average Tibetan woman is seldom absolutely sterile. This, of course, is mainly due to the fact that if she survives at all to the age of puberty, it is because she is strong and healthy; but at best she is never so prolific as her Asiatic sisters or even European women. In Tibet one rarely finds a woman with more than three living children. The majority of mothers can only boast of one. Yet, on the other hand, the Tibetan woman can bear children until a fairly advanced age. I remember meeting a lady who acknowledged her age—after complicated computation with the aid of fingers and toes—to be forty. Her skin was so wrinkled and rough that without maliciousness one could have put her down at fifty-five, but maybe she spoke the truth[[131]]—she certainly was not less than what she had stated. She carried in her arms a baby a few months old.
“It is my baby,” she proudly said, screening with her hand the fat offspring to prevent the “evil eye” of an inquisitive foreigner. “Go away; do not touch him or he will die.”
I was in a chaffing mood, and chaff in Tibet can never be too personal.