There are many monasteries (virtually schools for boys), the finest being at a suburb called Kemmendine, which is also a centre for the manufacture of kalagas, or blankets, usually red with figures in appliqué. We enjoyed several pleasant drives while in Rangoon, the favorite one being to Royal Lake and through Dalhousie Park; if taken in the late afternoon, one will see a gayly dressed, fashionable throng, either driving or walking. I had met Mr. and Mrs. W.T. Graham of the Burma Civil Service on the steamer from Port Saïd to Bombay, and I was indebted to them for two drives,—one to their country home, which was an attractive two-storied bungalow with galleries and low windows above and below, quite unlike the thatched houses seen in Upper Burma. There were contrasts in the general dress and appearance of the natives; pink was, however, still the prevailing color in the sarongs, sashes, and jackets of the women, and the long hair of the men was the custom. The intermarriage between Burmese women and Chinamen was said to be very frequent, some of the women preferring the hard-working executive Chinamen to the indolent Burmese. And, according to the opinion of a gentleman I met later, who had made a study of the subject, the intermarriage of the ever-prevalent Chinamen with races of the Orient, where caste does not prevent, is in time going to work a great racial revolution.
One morning we rose at 5 a.m. for an early excursion to see elephants haul teak from the river-bank to higher ground, where the logs would dry before transference to the sawmills. We went at this time so as to avoid the heat, and also because the elephants rest after 11 a.m. The illustration will show the process, but it was an amusing sight to see five ponderous animals moving slowly along, propelling the logs with their trunks, and ever and anon trumpeting; not being versed in elephant expression, I was left in doubt as to whether the sound meant joy or sorrow. We visited another similar scene near a large sawmill which we explored under the leadership of the manager.
Elephants carrying logs at Rangoon
The Gilded Sule as seen from Hytche Square
A trip to a rice-mill had been spoken of, but, not having breakfasted, we preferred to return to the hotel. Tea and toast were served at rising, if one desired it, during our entire "Tour." Another novel excursion was a long drive to some half-ruined Buddhist temples, a monastery, and buildings assigned to the peculiar rites which precede the cremation of a Buddhist priest; two bodies were seen in curious-looking receptacles, awaiting the culmination of events.
We were disappointed in not seeing a "ceremony," but were told to come in the evening and witness a temple dance, and, I believe, also a semi-dramatic ceremony. Some of the party did so, but I remained in the hotel to write letters, as we were to leave the following morning.
I have alluded to Abraham, our guide in Burma, as a devout Mohammedan, but he had numerous characteristics which rather caused distrust, one of them being his extreme deference to the ladies of the party, when according to the tenets of his religion we were all "fiends incarnate"; the other was his apparent abject acceptance of all Buddhist ceremonies, which we knew at heart he detested. However, "guides" became a prolific study, as time went on.
The weather had been hot in Rangoon; so, in spite of our pleasant Burman experiences and the joyousness of things in general, we hailed the steamer voyage as affording some measure of relief. We sailed at 7 a.m. on January 17th, on the steamer Palmicotta, for a voyage of four days to Madras. As usual, nothing occurred to mar the even tenor of our way; the ship was comfortable, the passengers affable, and the sea on good behavior.