Siam : The Land of the White Elephant as It Was and Is

by George B. Bacon

[A] Siam: or, The Heart of Farther India. New York, 1886.

Returning to Miss Cort's account: "The dress of the Siamese," she writes, "is very simple and comfortable, consisting of a waist-cloth, jacket, and scarf, and sometimes a hat and sandals. If all would at all times wear the native dress there would be no occasion for fault-finding. But as a nation they do not know what shame is, and as the climate is mild and pleasant, and the majority of the people poor and careless, their usual dress consists of a simple waist-cloth, adjusted in a very loose and slovenly manner; while many children until they are ten or twelve years old wear no clothing whatever. When foreigners first arrive in Siam they are shocked almost beyond endurance at the nudity of the people; and although they constantly preach a gospel of dress, their influence in this respect seems less apparent than in almost any other. Not until Siam is clothed need she expect a place among respectable, civilized nations.

"The old-fashioned shave, which left a patch of stiff bristles on the top of the head, like a shoe-brush, is no longer the universal style. European trims are fashionable in the capital, and some of the young men are trying to cultivate the mustache, while the women let their hair cover the whole head and dress it with cocoanut oil. They shave their foreheads, rub beeswax on their lips, powder their faces, and perfume their bodies. They bend their joints back and forth to make them supple, and give the elbow a peculiarly awkward twist which they consider very graceful.

"Their salutations are decidedly peculiar. The old style is to get down on all fours, and then resting on the knees, raise the clasped hands three times above the head, and also bow the head forward until the brow touches the floor. They kiss with their noses, by pressing them against their friends', and saying 'Very fragrant, very fragrant!' while they take long, satisfied sniffs. Many are now learning to shake hands and make graceful bows like Europeans, but the imported kiss is not yet in vogue, and I do not see that it ever can be until betel is discarded, for at present the nose is a more kissable feature of the Siamese face than the mouth.

"The people are exceedingly fond of jewelry, and often their gold chains and rings are the only adornment the body can boast. Many a young girl refuses to wear a jacket because it would cover up her chains, which are worn as a hunter carries his game-bag, over one shoulder and under the arm. She prefers a scarf which she can arrange and rearrange, and thus display the glitter of her golden ornaments. They wear a great many gold rings, and their ear-rings are often costly and beautiful. They also have gold armlets and anklets and charms encircling neck and waist, and the higher ranks now wear gold girdles with jewelled clasps. The jewelry is of odd and unique designs—snake-bracelets; necklaces of gold turtles, fish and flowers, set with gems; dragon-headed rings, with diamond, emerald, or ruby eyes, and a tongue that moves. Some rings have little birds poised upon them, with out-spread wings and sparkling with jewels; golden elephants, and many other rich and costly designs....

"All ordinary Siamese houses must have three rooms; indeed, so important is this number considered to the comfort of the family, that the suitor must often promise to provide three rooms ere the parents will let him claim his bride. There is the common bedroom, an outer room where they sit during the day and receive their visitors, and the kitchen. Let me begin at the latter and try to describe the dirty, dingy place. Having no godliness, the next thing to it, cleanliness, is entirely lacking. There is a rude box filled with earth, where they build the fire and do what they call the cooking; that is, they boil rice and make curry, and roast fish and bananas over the coals. There is no making of bread or pie, of cake or pudding; no roasts, no gravies, no soups. Even vegetables are seldom cooked at home, but are prepared by others and sold in the markets, or peddled in the streets. There they buy boiled sweet potatoes, green corn, and preserved fruits, curries, roasted fish, and ants, peanuts, and bananas, sliced pineapples, and melons, and squash. Pickled onions and turnips are sold in the streets of Bangkok just as pickled beets are in Damascus. Curry is made of all sorts of things, but is usually a combination of meat or fish, and vegetables. If you want an English name for it that all can understand, you must call it a stew. The ingredients are chopped very fine or pounded in a mortar, especially the red peppers, onions, and spices. The pre-dominant flavor is red pepper, so hot and fiery that your mouth will smart and burn for half an hour after you have eaten it. Still many of the curries are very good, and with steamed rice furnish a good meal. But sometimes a 'broth of abominable things is in their vessels,' as for instance, when they make curry of rats or bats, or of the flesh of animals that have died of disease, and they flavor it with kapick, a sort of rotten fish, of which all Siamese are inordinately fond. It is unrivalled in strength of fragrance and flavor. Siam is unique in that she possesses two of the most abominable things, and yet the most delicious, if we believe what we hear, and they are the durian, a large fruit found only on this peninsula, and 'kapick,' which I hope is not found anywhere outside of Siam.

"There is no regularity about their meals, and they do not wait for one another, but eat when they get hungry. In the higher families the men always eat first and by themselves, and the wives and children and dogs take what is left. The usual rule is for each one to wash his own rice-bowl, and turn it upside down in a basket in a corner of the kitchen, there to drip and dry till the next time it is needed. They eat with their fingers, very few having so much even as a spoon.

SIAMESE LADIES AT DINNER.