CHAPTER
IV
MANNERS
AND CUSTOMS
Joldan,
the Tibetan British postmaster in Leh, is a Christian of
spotless
reputation. Every one places unlimited confidence in his
integrity
and truthfulness, and his religious sincerity has been
attested
by many sacrifices. He is a Ladaki, and the family property was
at
Stok, a few miles from Leh. He was baptized in Lahul at
twenty-three,
his
father having been a Christian. He learned Urdu, and was for ten
years
mission schoolmaster in Kylang, but returned to Leh a few years
ago
as postmaster. His 'ancestral dwelling' at Stok was destroyed by
order
of the wazir, and his property confiscated, after many
unsuccessful
efforts had been made to win him back to Buddhism.
Afterwards
he was detained by the wazir, and compelled to serve as a
sepoy,
till Mr. Heyde went to the council and obtained his release. His
house
in Leh has been more than once burned by incendiaries. But he
pursues
a quiet, even course, brings up his family after the best
Christian
traditions, refuses Buddhist suitors for his daughters,
unobtrusively
but capably helps the Moravian missionaries, supports his
family
by steady industry, although of noble birth, and asks nothing of
any
one. His 'good morning' and 'good night,' as he daily passed my
tent
with
clockwork regularity, were full of cheery friendliness; he gave
much
useful information about Tibetan customs, and his ready
helpfulness
greatly
facilitated the difficult arrangements for my farther journey.
[Illustration:
A CHANG-PA WOMAN]
The
Leh, which I had left so dull and quiet, was full of strangers,
traffic,
and noise. The neat little Moravian church was filled by a
motley
crowd each Sunday, in which the few Christians were
distinguishable
by their clean faces and clothes and their devout air;
and
the Medical Mission Hospital and Dispensary, which in winter have
an
average
attendance of only a hundred patients a month, were daily
thronged
with natives of India and Kashmir, Baltis, Yarkandis, Dards,
and
Tibetans. In my visits with Dr. Marx I observed, what was
confirmed
by
four months' experience of the Tibetan villagers, that
rheumatism,
inflamed
eyes and eyelids, and old age are the chief Tibetan maladies.
Some
of the Dards and Baltis were lepers, and the natives of India
brought
malarial fever, dysentery, and other serious diseases. The
hospital,
which is supported by the Indian Government, is most
comfortable,
a haven of rest for those who fall sick by the way. The
hospital
assistants are intelligent, thoroughly kind-hearted young
Tibetans,
who, by dint of careful drilling and an affectionate desire to
please
'the teacher with the medicine box,' have become fairly
trustworthy.
They are not Christians.
In
the neat dispensary at 9 a.m. a gong summons the patients to the
operating
room for a short religious service. Usually about fifty were
present,
and a number more, who had some curiosity about 'the way,' but
did
not care to be seen at Christian worship, hung about the
doorways.
Dr.
Marx read a few verses from the Gospels, explaining them in a
homely
manner,
and concluded with the Lord's Prayer. Then the out-patients were
carefully
and gently treated, leprous limbs were bathed and anointed,
the
wards were visited at noon and again at sunset, and in the
afternoons
operations were performed with the most careful antiseptic
precautions,
which are supposed to be used for the purpose of keeping
away
evil spirits from the wounds! The Tibetans, in practice, are very
simple
in their applications of medical remedies. Rubbing with butter is
their
great panacea. They have a dread of small-pox, and instead of
burning
its victims they throw them into their rapid torrents. If an
isolated
case occur, the sufferer is carried to a mountain-top, where he
is
left to recover or die. If a small-pox epidemic is in the
province,
the
people of the villages in which it has not yet appeared place
thorns
on
their bridges and boundaries, to scare away the evil spirits
which
are
supposed to carry the disease. In ordinary illnesses, if butter
taken
internally as well as rubbed into the skin does not cure the
patient,
the _lamas_ are summoned to the rescue. They make a _mitsap_, a
half
life-size figure of the sick person, dress it in his or her
clothes
and
ornaments, and place it in the courtyard, where they sit round
it,
reading
passages from the sacred classics fitted for the occasion. After
a
time, all rise except the superior _lama_, who continues reading,
and
taking
small drums in their left hands, they recite incantations, and
dance
wildly round the _mitsap_, believing, or at least leading the
people
to believe, that by this ceremony the malady, supposed to be the
work
of a demon, will be transferred to the image. Afterwards the
clothes
and ornaments are presented to them, and the figure is carried
in
procession out of the yard and village and is burned. If the
patient
becomes
worse, the friends are apt to resort to the medical skill of the
missionaries.
If he dies they are blamed, and if he recovers the _lamas_
take
the credit.
At
some little distance outside Leh are the cremation
grounds--desert
places,
destitute of any other vegetation than the _Caprifolia horrida_.
Each
family has its furnace kept in good repair. The place is doleful,
and
a funeral scene on the only sunless day I experienced in Ladak
was
indescribably
dismal. After death no one touches the corpse but the
_lamas_,
who assemble in numbers in the case of a rich man. The senior
_lama_
offers the first prayers, and lifts the lock which all Tibetans
wear
at the back of the head, in order to liberate the soul if it is
still
clinging to the body. At the same time he touches the region of
the
heart with a dagger. The people believe that a drop of blood on
the
head
marks the spot where the soul has made its exit. Any good
clothing
in
which the person has died is then removed. The blacksmith beats a
drum,
and the corpse, covered with a white sheet next the dress and a
coloured
one above, is carried out of the house to be worshipped by the
relatives,
who walk seven times round it. The women then retire to the
house,
and the chief _lama_ recites liturgical passages from the
formularies.
Afterwards, the relatives retire, and the corpse is carried
to
the burning-ground by men who have the same tutelar deity as the
deceased.
The leading _lama_ walks first, then come men with flags,
followed
by the blacksmith with the drum, and next the corpse, with
another
man beating a drum behind it. Meanwhile, the _lamas_ are praying
for
the repose and quieting of the soul, which is hovering about,
desiring
to return. The attendant friends, each of whom has carried a
piece
of wood to the burning-ground, arrange the fuel with butter on
the
furnace,
the corpse wrapped in the white sheet is put in, and fire is
applied.
The process of destruction in a rich man's case takes about an
hour.
During the burning the _lamas_ read in high, hoarse monotones,
and
the
blacksmiths beat their drums. The _lamas_ depart first, and the
blacksmiths,
after worshipping the ashes, shout, 'Have nothing to do
with
us now,' and run rapidly away. At dawn the following day, a man
whose
business it is searches among the ashes for the footprints of
animals,
and according to the footprints found, so it is believed will
be
the re-birth of the soul.
Some
of the ashes are taken to the _gonpos_, where the _lamas_ mix
them
with
clay, put them into oval or circular moulds, and stamp them with
the
image of Buddha. These are preserved in _chod-tens_, and in the
house
of the nearest relative of the deceased; but in the case of
'holy'
men,
they are retained in the _gonpos_, where they can be purchased by
the
devout. After a cremation much _chang_ is consumed by the
friends,
who
make presents to the bereaved family. The value of each is
carefully
entered
in a book, so that a precise return may be made when a similar
occasion
occurs. Until the fourth day after death it is believed to be
impossible
to quiet the soul. On that day a piece of paper is inscribed
with
prayers and requests to the soul to be quiet, and this is burned
by
the
_lamas_ with suitable ceremonies; and rites of a more or less
elaborate
kind are afterwards performed for the repose of the soul,
accompanied
with prayers that it may get 'a good path' for its re-birth,
and
food is placed in conspicuous places about the house, that it may
understand
that its relatives are willing to support it. The mourners
for
some time wear wretched clothes, and neither dress their hair nor
wash
their faces. Every year the _lamas_ sell by auction the clothing
and
ornaments, which are their perquisites at funerals[1].
[1]
For these and other curious details concerning Tibetan customs I
am
indebted
to the kindness and careful investigations of the late Rev. W.
Redslob,
of Leh, and the Rev. A. Heyde, of Kylang.
The
Moravian missionaries have opened a school in Leh, and the wazir,
finding
that the Leh people are the worst educated in the country,
ordered
that one child at least in each family should be sent to it.
This
awakened grave suspicions, and the people hunted for reasons for
it.
'The boys are to be trained as porters, and made to carry burdens
over
the mountains,' said some. 'Nay,' said others, 'they are to be
sent
to
England and made Christians of.' [All foreigners, no matter what
their
nationality is, are supposed to be English.] Others again said,
'They
are to be kidnapped,' and so the decree was ignored, till Mr.
Redslob
and Dr. Marx went among the parents and explained matters, and a
large
attendance was the result; for the Tibetans of the trade route
have
come to look upon the acquisition of 'foreign learning' as the
stepping-stone
to Government appointments at ten rupees per month.
Attendance
on religious instruction was left optional, but after a time
sixty
pupils were regularly present at the daily reading and
explanation
of
the Gospels. Tibetan fathers teach their sons to write, to read
the
sacred
classics, and to calculate with a frame of balls on wires. If
farther
instruction is thought desirable, the boys are sent to the
_lamas_,
and even to the schools at Lhassa. The Tibetans willingly
receive
and read translations of our Christian books, and some go so far
as
to think that their teachings are 'stronger' than those of their
own,
indicating their opinions by tearing pages out of the Gospels and
rolling
them up into pills, which are swallowed in the belief that they
are
an effective charm. Sorcery is largely used in the treatment of
the
sick.
The books which instruct in the black art are known as 'black
books.'
Those which treat of medicine are termed 'blue books.' Medical
knowledge
is handed down from father to son. The doctors know the
virtues
of many of the plants of the country, quantities of which they
mix
up together while reciting magical formulas.
[Illustration:
CHANG-PA CHIEF]
I
was heartily sorry to leave Leh, with its dazzling skies and
abounding
colour
and movement, its stirring topics of talk, and the culture and
exceeding
kindness of the Moravian missionaries. Helpfulness was the
rule.
Gergan came over the Kharzong glacier on purpose to bring me a
prayer-wheel;
Lob-sang and Tse-ring-don-drub, the hospital assistants,
made
me a tent carpet of _yak's_ hair cloth, singing as they sewed;
and
Joldan
helped to secure transport for the twenty-two days' journey to
Kylang.
Leh has few of what Europeans regard as travelling necessaries.
The
brick tea which I purchased from a Lhassa trader was disgusting.
I
afterwards
understood that blood is used in making up the blocks. The
flour
was gritty, and a leg of mutton turned out to be a limb of a goat
of
much experience. There were no straps, or leather to make them of,
in
the
bazaar, and no buckles; and when the latter were provided by Mr.
Redslob,
the old man who came to sew them upon a warm rug which I had
made
for Gyalpo out of pieces of carpet and hair-cloth put them on
wrongly
three times, saying after each failure, 'I'm very foolish.
Foreign
ways are so wonderful!' At times the Tibetans say, 'We're as
stupid
as oxen,' and I was inclined to think so, as I stood for two
hours
instructing the blacksmith about making shoes for Gyalpo, which
kept
turning out either too small for a mule or too big for a
dray-horse.
I
obtained
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