The following financial report, of necessity, has to deal with the currencies of five different countries, viz.: American, English, French, Austrian and Turkish, but as nearly all except expenses of travel and maintenance are in Turkish money, and as American, English, French and other moneys received were naturally reduced to the coin of the Ottoman Empire, we were obliged to make our accounts to correspond. As the report is made on the gold basis of 100 piasters to a lira, our friends may easily find the value in American money by multiplying the number of piasters by 4.4, as a gold lira (100 piasters) is approximately worth four and four-tenths dollars.
Owing to the difference in values between gold and silver coin, the wide range of values between the same coin in different cities, also the singular variation of the purchasing power of the same coin in the same cities for various commodities, complicated and curious mathematical problems have constantly confronted us, and for the correctness and accuracy of our report we are under many obligations to W.W. Peet, Esq., treasurer of the American Board of Foreign Missions; the officers of the Imperial Ottoman and Credit Lyonnais Banks; as well as George Künzel, Esq., expert accountant of the Administration de la Dette Publique Ottomane. Our grateful acknowledgments are also due and heartily given to Rev. Dr. H.O. Dwight, the executive head of the Missionary Board at Constantinople, and Rev. Dr. George Washburn, president of Robert College, for many valuable suggestions.
To give a single illustration of the acrobatic acquirements of the sprightly piaster, the ignus fatuus characteristics of the mejidieh (nom. 20 piasters), and the illusive proclivities of the lira, we will outline a transaction connected with our first medical expedition, under Dr. Ira Harris, of Tripoli, Syria. We had sent four hundred liras to Dr. George E. Post, of Beyrout, who was fitting out the expedition for us, and presumed we would receive a receipt for that amount, or for 40,000 piasters, its equivalent. The acknowledgment came, and we were somewhat nonplussed to note that we had been credited with a sum far exceeding that amount. A letter of inquiry was sent, as we supposed our good doctor had made an error. We quote a paragraph or two in his letter of reply: “I am not surprised that you do not quite understand the intricacies of Turkish finance. After thirty-three years of residence, I am still trying to get some idea of what a piaster is. * * * In Beyrout it is worth one piaster and five paras, with variations; a mejidieh is worth from nineteen piasters to almost anything. Every town has its rate. * * * The nominal value changes daily. Thus if I credit you to-day with 123.20 piasters on the lira, next week I may be out of pocket, or vice versa. * * * Internally, it is well nigh impossible to keep accounts. * * * The only way our college books are kept is by giving the rate as it is when the account is entered, and as it appears in all receipts and other vouchers.”
We were much gratified with this assurance, for if a college president, after thirty-three years’ study, had not solved the piaster puzzle, there was some excuse for us. Hundreds of accounts and bills have been received, audited and paid, and scarcely any two correspond in piaster equivalents. Therefore, although the money unit is the gold piaster, and the monetary standard the gold lira, the frequent changes in valuation is very bewildering to foreigners, and necessitates frequent conference with persons who, after long years of residence, have reached an equitable basis by which monetary equivalents can be ascertained.
A glance at our column of receipts shows a considerable variation in rates of exchange, and also the selling price of British gold (most of our drafts and cabled credits were in English sovereigns). We sold the greater part of our gold at a rate exceeding 110, which is the commercial rate in business transactions. In all credits received, the values are of course given according to the rate on the day of sale.
Many of our accounts, receipts and vouchers are curiosities, as they are in various languages, Arabic, Kourdish, Turkish, Armenian, Greek, Italian, etc. They were interesting but at the same time exceedingly perplexing to us, though our expert accountant found no difficulty with any of them, and right here we desire to make special acknowledgment to Mr. Künzel for his excellent but unpaid services.
In our column of expenses will be found an exceedingly rare Red Cross item, namely, “Wages Account.” All the native or local doctors and apothecaries with one exception, had to be paid “contagious disease rates,” as they called it. The exception was Dr. Ira Harris, of Tripoli, Syria, that brave and self-sacrificing American, whose great medical ability and splendid surgical skill accomplished so much in curing the sick in the terribly distressed cities of Marash and Zeitoun, with their many surrounding villages. We are glad to make this public acknowledgment in full appreciation of his heroic services. Besides the doctors, there were interpreters and dragomen for the various expeditions in the field to whom wages were paid. No adverse reflection is designed in the making of this statement, as the conditions surrounding life and service in that region of operation made such remuneration an equitable necessity.
It is, we think, a well understood fact that the Red Cross officers neither receive nor ask any remuneration for their services, but away from our own country we did not find the splendid volunteer aids we have had on former fields. But few could be found, and these we have had with us both in Constantinople and Asia Minor, and very efficient helpers they have been; to these our thanks are due and cordially given.
After our expeditions had entered the field, and begun work, the first remittances to our chief officers were sent in a manner which for slowness and seeming insecurity would have appalled American business men. The modus operandi was as follows: A check for the amount desired was drawn and taken to the bank; after half an hour or more the gold would be weighed out and handed over—our bankers would have performed the same service in two minutes. The coin was then put into a piece of stout canvas cloth, done up in a round ball, securely tied and taken to the Imperial Turkish postoffice, where it was placed in a piece of sheepskin, all the ends brought together very evenly, cut off square and covered with sealing wax, the strong cords binding the package in a peculiar manner were woven in so that the ends could be passed through a small wooden box like a pill box; this box was filled with wax. After the imperial post and our seals were attached, bakshish given, and the package insured in an English company, the only thing remaining after the three or four hours’ work and delay was to go home and, with fear and trembling, wait some twenty-five or thirty days until the pony express arrived at its destination and acknowledgment by telegraph of the receipt of the money relieved the nervous strain as far as that package was concerned. This trying business was kept up until it became possible to use drafts in the interior. We are happy to report that, though the money had to be taken through a country infested with robbers, outlaws and brigands, we never lost a lira.
Bakshish is another custom of the country, infinitely more exasperating than our “tip” system, which is bad enough. This is trying to most people, but peculiarly irritating to a financial secretary. Bakshish is a gift of money which an Oriental expects and demands for the most trifling service. Beggars, by instinct, seem to know a financial secretary and swarm around in the most appalling manner. To make any headway with this horde at least two Turkish words must be mastered the first day, namely, “Yok,” No, and “Hidé-git,” “Be off with you.” These expressions are sometimes efficacious with beggars, but the bakshish fiend must be paid something.