All sorts of magical contrivances to prevent the entrance of wicked "nats" and other evil spirits, are erected outside nearly every house and village, and charms and horoscopes are believed in absolutely by all save the best educated Burmans.
They are a fickle people. Their lives being uneventful they love to vary them by constant small changes, and to enliven them by the excitement of gambling, which is the great vice of the country. We had a Burmese maid who displayed this love of change to a most astonishing degree. After being with us about two months she suddenly announced one morning that she had fever and must go and rest. Accordingly she disappeared for several days, and when we sent to enquire after her we learnt that she had recovered from her attack of fever, but was coming back to us no more, as she had got married. In about a fortnight she reappeared, saying calmly that she was now tired of being married, and was quite ready to return to her work after her little change.
Though he strongly objects to work himself the Burman likewise objects to see anyone else work. Whenever I endeavoured to clean my bicycle, our loogalays were terribly grieved. They sought me out in the quiet corner to which I had retired, and stood round me with the most shocked expressions, waving brooms and dusters, and beseeching me by all their most expressive gestures to leave the task to them. Sometimes they embarrassed me so much by all these attentions that I was obliged to consent, but always felt sorry afterwards; they are not satisfactory bicycle cleaners. The handle bars they polished again and again, but the rest of the machine struck them as uninteresting, and they left it severely alone.
My experience of the Burman was not confined altogether to our own servants, there were many in the village with whom I had a bowing acquaintance, but owing to my ignorance of the language I could not hope to become intimate with them and their families.
They appeared to take a great interest in us and our possessions. Two little Burmese ladies in particular, wives of the chief men of the village, paid us constant visits. They would bring us presents of flowers and vegetables, offer these, and then sit on the floor and stare resolutely at us for the space of half an hour, at the end of which time they would suddenly make a profound obeisance and depart.
Conversation was impossible, as neither party knew the other's language, but we found this silent contemplation so embarrassing, that, after enduring it twice, we endeavoured on the third visit to entertain them by showing them pictures, trinkets, or anything we thought might amuse them. But with no great success; they admired the things and then immediately returned to their former occupation of staring, until at last I thought of the piano (which at that time was still in a healthy condition), opened it, and began to play. That interested them immensely, as they could not understand whence the sound came. They would stand happily for any length of time, gingerly striking a note, and listening to the tone with the greatest wonder and delight.
But what pleased them more than anything was a china doll, belonging to my little niece, which shut and opened its eyes. Such a marvel had never been seen before, and the day after our visitors had discovered it, a large deputation from the village waited upon us, with a request to see the wonder. As from that time the doll frequently disappeared for a day or two, we rather suspected the ayah was turning an honest penny, by borrowing it to hire out for exhibition at various villages round, whither the rumour of its fame had already spread.
Our visitors took the greatest interest in our garments, and when their first shyness had worn off, would subject our costumes to a minute examination that was a little trying.
They always arrayed themselves in their best garments when they came to see us, and very dainty they looked in their bright dresses of pink, green, or yellow silk, with flowers and ornaments in their black hair. The Burmese ladies are deservedly described as charming, and they understand the art of dress, and blending colours to perfection. They are reported to be very witty and amusing, as well as charming in appearance, and certainly when my brother happened to be at home on the occasion of their visits, they chattered to him very merrily, and seemed to thoroughly enjoy their talk with an Englishman.
Another visitor of ours was the thugyi, (the head man of the village), a very fine looking old man with one of the handsomest heads I have ever seen. He was taller than the majority of Burmans, and in the flowing white garments which he always wore, presented a splendid picture which I longed to paint. His manners were stately and dignified, and he treated us with the most royal courtesy, as though he were an emperor at least.