Four years in Upper Burma

by W. R. Winston

“THE BUDDHIST MONASTERIES ARE FINE, SUBSTANTIAL ERECTIONS, MASSIVE, SPACIOUS AND VERY RICH IN DECORATION.”

Although there are in Burma so many pagodas, monasteries and other religious buildings, which are fine, substantial erections, massive, spacious and very rich in decoration, the dwellings of the people are, as a rule, very poor in accommodation, and are of bamboo, the flimsiest of material, and specially liable to destruction by fire. The posts of the house are of teak, the floor is of bamboos, and raised from two to six feet from the ground, the walls are of bamboo matting not much thicker than stout brown paper, and the roof is of bamboo thatch. These houses, though so slightly made, are warm enough for the climate. The floor especially seems very frail to a stranger, made of half bamboos, round side upwards, and lashed together with strips of cane. It gives and sways under your feet as you walk over it in an alarming manner, but the bamboos, though they bend, do not easily break. The Burmans like that kind of a house. It is cool and airy. The floor shows a space between each bamboo, and those spaces are particularly convenient for an easy-going people. All kinds of miscellaneous things not required, including scraps and remnants of food, can be dropped through the floor, so that it requires no sweeping. The mighty host of ownerless, homeless, starving dogs that roam over the town can be safely trusted to find anything there is to eat, and they are not of dainty appetite. All cooking has to be done outside the house, either in a separate building, or more commonly in a little square hole dug in the ground for the purpose, to prevent, if possible, sparks being blown about by the high winds that prevail at certain seasons of the year.

Owing to the extremely inflammable nature of the buildings in Burma, fires are of frequent occurrence, and are exceedingly destructive. In addition to the ordinary risk from cooking fires and paraffin oil lamps, the people are exceedingly careless in handling fire, and they are all smokers. They smoke a kind of cigar made of chopped tobacco mixed with some light woody substance, and enclosed in the outer leaf of the maize cob, or some other leaf used for the same purpose, and these cigars drop sparks in all directions. The end of the hot, dry season, in April and May, when everything is like tinder, and when the high winds prevail, is the most destructive time for fires, and every year at that time they are of daily occurrence in Mandalay, and sometimes scores and sometimes hundreds of bamboo houses are swept away. During the four years I have lived in Mandalay I have known many large portions of the town destroyed time after time.

The most destructive fires that have occurred since the annexation took place on March 31st, 1892, and the following day. The first of these fires originated in 27th Street, near the centre of the town. Exceptionally high winds from the south carried the flames in a northerly direction. All the wooden and bamboo buildings in front of the fire were consumed in an incredibly short space of time. Very soon the flames reached the central telegraph office, a new Government building that cost about £2,000. The flames leaped across a very wide street, and destroyed the office. The fire burnt its way through the town due north for two miles, and ceased only when it had burnt itself out. There is a good fire-engine establishment since the British rule, but fire-engines are of no avail in a case like that.

The first great fire was still smouldering when, on the following day, another broke out in the eastern town. It spread in the same way from south to north about two miles. In the line of this fire, and extending the whole way, were a series of remarkably fine monastery buildings, including some of the finest in Burma, all built of teak, and covered with decorative carving, and two of them covered with gold leaf within and without. One of these monasteries was built by King Mindohn at a cost of 16 lakhs of rupees; the entire loss caused by this one fire alone is roughly estimated at 100 lakhs (say £600,000). The same day a third fire broke out in the north end of the town, and destroyed several hundreds of Burmese houses. This fire was caused by gross negligence, the sparks from a Burmese cigar igniting some Indian corn. When these fires occur the Burmans do not seem to concern themselves. They remove their household goods if they have time, but make no real efforts to stem the progress of the flames. Much valuable property is destroyed, but it is seldom any lives are lost.

All Eastern nations pay great attention to the rules relating to the degree of state and dignity such and such classes of the people may assume. Amongst the Hindus the pariahs and other low castes are most rigidly kept down, and the least sign of alteration for the better in their dress, houses, or circumstances renders them liable to the persecution of the higher castes. I have known in Ceylon amongst the Hindus prolonged struggles between certain castes, involving serious breaches of the peace, the point at issue being only this—whether a certain caste of people ought or ought not to be allowed to carry umbrellas at their weddings and on other special occasions. In the native kingdom of Travancore, a few years ago, serious riots took place because the women of a certain class of people known as the “slave caste,” having come under the influence of the Gospel, desired to dress themselves with something like decency, whereas the inexorable rule was that neither man nor woman of that caste was to clothe the body above the waist or below the knee.

In Burma, though there is no caste, the sumptuary laws were stringently carried out. The title “Thootay” (rich man) was enjoyed only under royal edict. For funerals five different degrees of rank were all minutely laid down, and the state and show must be accordingly. The umbrella question was regarded as a most vital and important one. In the matter of the use of that great emblem of dignity minute directions were issued and observed. Gilt umbrellas especially were only for the chosen few. The white umbrella no one must assume but the king and the Lord White Elephant. Under Burmese rule any one appearing in public under a white umbrella would have had to answer for it. Where in English we should say “the throne,” or “the crown,” as the emblem of royalty, in Burmese literature it would be “the white umbrella and the palace.”