Sailing from Aden to Zeyla - R. Burtons Notes, Prejudices

Tag : Mat Slipper
Continuing the re-publication of excerpts from RichardBurton´s ´First footsteps in East Africa or, AnExploration of Harar´, a classic of the Orientalistliterature of the 19th century, I reproduce today the first chapterof the book in which the English explorer, Orientalist, adventurerand colonialist describes his trip from Aden to Zeyla.

As in every other part of the book, prejudices, misunderstandings,and misinterpretations are abundant, revealing the chaotic gapbetween the intentions, the background, the attitude, and theintegrity the indigenous populations and the superfluous, colonialintruder.

As Burton´s book was used as almost a holy scripture byEnglish colonials in their decision making, and as long as eventoday English academia and politicians keep venerating Burton andhis likes, the book helps awake all those who imagine a possiblepositive stance of the traditional colonial powers, France andEngland, towards Africa, and more particularly the Horn of Africaregion.

I would be glad to receive comments and criticism, and add them tomine in several forthcoming articles that are necessary forrefutation.

First footsteps in East Africa or, An Exploration of Harar

By Richard Burton

http://etext.library.adelaide.edu.au/b/burton/richard/b97f/index.html

Chapter I - Departure from Aden

http://etext.library.adelaide.edu.au/b/burton/richard/b97f/chapter1.html

I doubt not there are many who ignore the fact that in EasternAfrica, scarcely three hundred miles distant from Aden, there is acounterpart of ill-famed Timbuctoo in the Far West. The moreadventurous Abyssinian travellers, Salt and Stuart, Krapf andIsenberg, Barker and Rochet,—not to mention divers RomanCatholic Missioners,—attempted Harar, but attempted it invain. The bigoted ruler and barbarous people threatened death tothe Infidel who ventured within their walls; some negro Merlinhaving, it is said, read Decline and Fall in the first footsteps ofthe Frank.1 Of all foreigners the English were, of course, the mosthated and dreaded; at Harar slavery still holds its head-quarters,and the old Dragon well knows what to expect from the hand of St.George. Thus the various travellers who appeared in beaver andblack coats became persuaded that the city was inaccessible, andEuropeans ceased to trouble themselves about Harar.

It is, therefore, a point of honor with me, dear L., to utilise mytitle of Haji by entering the city, visiting the ruler, andreturning in safety, after breaking the guardian spell.

The most auspicious day in the Moslem year for beginning a journeyis, doubtless, the 6th of the month Safar2, on which, quoth theProphet, El Islam emerged from obscurity. Yet even at Aden we couldnot avail ourselves of this lucky time: our delays and difficultieswere a fit prelude for a journey amongst those "BlamelessEthiopians," with whom no less a personage than august Jove candine and depart. 3

On Sunday, the 29th October, 1854, our manifold impediments werepronounced complete. Friend S. threw the slipper of blessing at myback, and about 4 P.M. embarking from Maala Bunder, we shook outour "muslin," and sailed down the fiery harbour. Passing theguard-boat, we delivered our permit; before venturing into the opensea we repeated the Fatihah-prayer in honor of the Shaykh Majid,inventor of the mariners´ compass4, and evening saw usdancing on the bright clear tide, whose "magic waves," however,murmured after another fashion the siren song which charmed thesenses of the old Arabian voyagers.5

Suddenly every trace of civilisation fell from my companions as ifit had been a garment. At Aden, shaven and beturbaned, Arabfashion, now they threw off all dress save the loin cloth, andappeared in their dark morocco. Mohammed filled his mouth with amixture of coarse Surat tobacco and ashes,—the latter articleintended, like the Anglo-Indian soldier´s chili in hisarrack, to "make it bite." Guled uncovered his head, a member whichin Africa is certainly made to go bare, and buttered himself withan unguent redolent of sheep´s tail; and Ismail, the rais orcaptain of our "foyst,"6 the Sahalah, applied himself to puffinghis nicotiana out of a goat´s shank-bone. Our crew,consisting of seventy-one men and boys, prepared, as evening fell,a mess of Jowari grain7 and grease, the recipe of which I spareyou, and it was despatched in a style that would have done creditto Kafirs as regards gobbling, bolting, smearing lips, lickingfingers, and using ankles as napkins. Then with a light easterlybreeze and the ominous cliffs of Little Aden still in sight, wespread our mats on deck and prepared to sleep under the moon.8

My companions, however, felt, without perhaps comprehending, thejoviality arising from a return to Nature. Every man was forthwithnicknamed, and pitiless was the raillery upon the venerablesubjects of long and short, fat and thin. One sang a war-song,another a love-song, a third some song of the sea, whilst thefourth, an Eesa youth, with the villanous expression of face commonto his tribe, gave us a rain measure, such as men chaunt during wetweather. All these effusions were naive and amusing: none, however,could bear English translation without an amount of omission whichwould change their nature. Each effort of minstrelsy wasaccompanied by roars of laughter, and led to much manualpleasantry. All swore that they had never spent, intellectuallyspeaking, a more charming soiree, and pitied me for being unable toenter thoroughly into the spirit of the dialogue. Truly it is notonly the polished European, as was said of a certain travellingnotability, that lapses with facility into pristine barbarism.

I will now introduce you to my companions. The managing man is oneMohammed Mahmud9, generally called El Hammal or the porter: he is aHavildar or sergeant in the Aden police, and was entertained for meby Lieut. Dansey, an officer who unfortunately was not "confirmed"in a political appointment at Aden. The Hammal is a bull-necked,round-headed fellow of lymphatic temperament, with a lamp-blackskin, regular features, and a pulpy figure,—two raritiesamongst his countrymen, who compare him to a Banyan. An orphan inearly youth, and becoming, to use his own phrase, sick of milk, heran away from his tribe, the Habr Gerhajis, and engaged himself asa coaltrimmer with the slaves on board an Indian war-steamer. Afterrising in rank to the command of the crew, he became servant andinterpreter to travellers, visited distant lands—Egypt andCalcutta—and finally settled as a Feringhee policeman. Hecannot read or write, but he has all the knowledge to be acquiredby fifteen or twenty years, hard "knocking about:" he can make along speech, and, although he never prays, a longer prayer; he isan excellent mimic, and delights his auditors by imitations anddescriptions of Indian ceremony, Egyptian dancing, Arab vehemence,Persian abuse, European vivacity, and Turkish insolence. Withprodigious inventiveness, and a habit of perpetual intrigue,acquired in his travels, he might be called a "knowing" man, butfor the truly Somali weakness of showing in his countenance allthat passes through his mind. This people can hide nothing: theblank eye, the contracting brow, the opening nostril and thetremulous lip, betray, despite themselves, their innermostthoughts.

The second servant, whom I bring before you is Guled, anotherpoliceman at Aden. He is a youth of good family, belonging to theIsmail Arrah, the royal clan of the great Habr Gerhajis tribe. Hisfather was a man of property, and his brethren near Berberah, arewealthy Bedouins: yet he ran away from his native country whenseven or eight years old, and became a servant in the house of abutter merchant at Mocha. Thence he went to Aden, where he beganwith private service, and ended his career in the police. He is oneof those long, live skeletons, common amongst the Somal: hisshoulders are parallel with his ears, his ribs are straight as amummy´s, his face has not an ounce of flesh upon it, and hisfeatures suggest the idea of some lank bird: we call him LongGuled, to which he replies with the Yemen saying "Length is Honor,even in Wood." He is brave enough, because he rushes into dangerwithout reflection; his great defects are weakness of body andnervousness of temperament, leading in times of peril to thetrembling of hands, the dropping of caps, and the mismanagement ofbullets: besides which, he cannot bear hunger, thirst, or cold.

The third is one Abdy Abokr, also of the Habr Gerhajis, a personagewhom, from, his smattering of learning and his prodigiousrascality, we call the Mulla "End of Time."10 He is a man aboutforty, very old-looking for his age, with small, deep-set cunningeyes, placed close together, a hook nose, a thin beard, a bulgingbrow, scattered teeth, 11 and a short scant figure, remarkable onlyfor length of back. His gait is stealthy, like a cat´s, andhe has a villanous grin. This worthy never prays, and can neitherread nor write; but he knows a chapter or two of the Koran, recitesaudibly a long Ratib or task, morning and evening12, whence,together with his store of hashed Hadis (tradition), he derives thetitle of Widad or hedge-priest. His tongue, primed with thesatirical sayings of Abn Zayd el Helali, and Humayd ibn Mansur13,is the terror of men upon whom repartee imposes. His father was awealthy shipowner in his day; but, cursed with Abdy and anotherson, the old man has lost all his property, his children havedeserted him, and he now depends entirely upon the charity of theZayla chief. The "End of Time" has squandered considerable sums intravelling far and wide from Harar to Cutch, he has managedeverywhere to perpetrate some peculiar villany. He is a pleasantcompanion, and piques himself upon that power of quotation which inthe East makes a polite man. If we be disposed to hurry, heinsinuates that "Patience is of Heaven, Haste of Hell." Whenroughly addressed, he remarks,

"There are cures for the hurts of lead and steel,

But the wounds of the tongue—they never heal!"

If a grain of rice adhere to our beards, he says, smilingly, "thegazelle is in the garden;" to which we reply "we will hunt her withthe five."14 Despite these merits, I hesitated to engage him, tillassured by the governor of Zayla that he was to be looked upon as ason, and, moreover, that he would bear with him one of those statesecrets to an influential chief which in this country are nevercommitted to paper. I found him an admirable buffoon, skilful infilling pipes and smoking them; au reste, an individual of "manywords and little work," infinite intrigue, cowardice, cupidity, andendowed with a truly evil tongue.

The morning sun rose hot upon us, showing Mayyum and Zubah, thegiant staples of the "Gate under the Pleiades." 15 Shortlyafterwards, we came in sight of the Barr el Ajam (barbarian land),as the Somal call their country16, a low glaring flat of yellowsand, desert and heat-reeking, tenanted by the Eesa, and a meethabitat for savages. Such to us, at least, appeared the land ofAdel.17 At midday we descried the Ras el Bir,—Headland of theWell,—the promontory which terminates the bold Tajurrahrange, under which lie the sleeping waters of the Maiden´sSea.18 During the day we rigged out an awning, and sat in the shadesmoking and chatting merrily, for the weather was not much hotterthan on English summer seas. Some of the crew tried praying; butprostrations are not easily made on board ship, and El Islam, asUmar shrewdly suspected, was not made for a seafaring race. Atlength the big red sun sank slowly behind the curtain of sky-bluerock, where lies the not yet "combusted" village of Tajurrah.19 Welay down to rest with the light of day, and had the satisfaction ofclosing our eyes upon a fair though captious breeze.

On the morning of the 31st October, we entered the Zayla Creek,which gives so much trouble to native craft. We passed, on theright, the low island of Masha, belonging to the "City of the SlaveMerchant,"— Tajurrah,—and on the left two similarpatches of seagirt sand, called Aybat and Saad el Din. These placessupply Zayla, in the Kharif or hot season20, with thousands ofgulls´ eggs,—a great luxury. At noon we sighted ourdestination. Zayla is the normal African port,—a strip ofsulphur-yellow sand, with a deep blue dome above, and a foregroundof the darkest indigo. The buildings, raised by refraction, rosehigh, and apparently from the bosom of the deep. After hearing theworst accounts of it, I was pleasantly disappointed by thespectacle of white-washed houses and minarets, peering above a longlow line of brown wall, flanked with round towers.

As we slowly threaded the intricate coral reefs of the port, a barkcame scudding up to us; it tacked, and the crew proceeded to givenews in roaring tones. Friendship between the Amir of Harar and thegovernor of Zayla had been broken; the road through the Eesa Somalhad been closed by the murder of Masud, a favourite slave andadopted son of Sharmarkay; all strangers had been expelled the cityfor some misconduct by the Harar chief; moreover, small-pox wasraging there with such violence that the Galla peasantry wouldallow neither ingress nor egress.21 I had the pleasure ofreflecting for some time, dear L., upon the amount ofresponsibility incurred by using the phrase "I will;" and the onlyconsolation that suggested itself was the stale assurance that

"Things at the worst most surely mend."

No craft larger than a canoe can ride near Zayla. After bumpingonce or twice against the coral reefs, it was considered advisablefor our good ship, the Sahalat, to cast anchor. My companionscaused me to dress, put me with my pipe and other necessaries intoa cock-boat, and, wading through the water, shoved it to shore.Lastly, at Bab el Sahil, the Seaward or Northern Gate, theyproceeded to array themselves in the bravery of clean Tobes andlong daggers strapped round the waist; each man also slung histarge to his left arm, and in his right hand grasped lance andjavelin. At the gate we were received by a tall black spearman witha "Ho there! to the governor;" and a crowd of idlers gathered toinspect the strangers. Marshalled by the warder, we traversed thedusty roads—streets they could not be called—of the oldArab town, ran the gauntlet of a gaping mob, and finally entering amat door, found ourselves in the presence of the governor.

I had met Sharmarkay at Aden, where he received from theauthorities strong injunctions concerning my personal safety: thecharacter of a Moslem merchant, however, requiring us to appearstrangers, an introduction by our master of ceremonies, the Hammal,followed my entrance. Sharmarkay was living in an apartment by nomeans splendid, preferring an Arish or kind of cow-house,—asthe Anglo-Indian Nabobs do the bungalow

"with mat half hung,

The walls of plaster and the floors of ,"

—to all his substantial double-storied houses. The ground waswet and comfortless; a part of the reed walls was lined with cotsbearing mattresses and silk-covered pillows, a cross between adivan and a couch: the only ornaments were a few weapons, and anecklace of gaudy beads suspended near the door. I was placed uponthe principal seat: on the right were the governor and the Hammal;whilst the lowest portion of the room was occupied by MohammedSharmarkay, the son and heir. The rest of the company squatted uponchairs, or rather stools, of peculiar construction. Nothing couldbe duller than this assemblee: pipes and coffee are here unknown;and there is nothing in the East to act substitute for them.22

The governor of Zayla, El Hajj Sharmarkay bin Ali Salih, is rathera remarkable man. He is sixteenth, according to his own account, indescent from Ishak el Hazrami23, the saintly founder of the greatGerhajis and Awal tribes. His enemies derive him from a lessillustrious stock; and the fairness of his complexion favours thereport that his grandfather Salih was an Abyssinian slave.Originally the Nacoda or captain of a native craft, he has raisedhimself, chiefly by British influence, to the chieftainship of histribe.24 As early as May, 1825, he received from Captain Bagnold,then our resident at Mocha, a testimonial and a reward, for asevere sword wound in the left arm, received whilst defending thelives of English seamen. 25 He afterwards went to Bombay, where hewas treated with consideration; and about fifteen years ago hesucceeded the Sayyid Mohammed el Barr as governor of Zayla and itsdependencies, under the Ottoman Pasha in Western Arabia.

The Hajj Sharmarkay in his youth was a man of Valour: he could notread or write; but he carried in battle four spears26, and hissword-cut was recognisable. He is now a man about sixty years old,at least six feet two inches in stature, large-limbed, andraw-boned: his leanness is hidden by long wide robes. He shaves hishead and upper lip Shafei-fashion, and his beard is represented bya ragged tuft of red-stained hair on each side of his chin. A visitto Aden and a doctor cost him one eye, and the other is now whitewith age. His dress is that of an Arab, and he always carries withhim a broad-bladed, silver-hilted sword. Despite his years, he is astrong, active, and energetic man, ever looking to the "mainchance." With one foot in the grave, he meditates nothing but theconquest of Harar and Berberah, which, making him master of theseaboard, would soon extend his power as in days of old even toAbyssinia.27 To hear his projects, you would fancy them theoffspring of a brain in the prime of youth: in order to carry themout he would even assist in suppressing the profitableslave-trade.28

After half an hour´s visit I was led by the Hajj through thestreets of Zayla29, to one of his substantial houses of corallineand mud plastered over with glaring whitewash. The ground floor isa kind of warehouse full of bales and boxes, scales and buyers. Aflight of steep steps leads into a long room with shutters toexclude the light, floored with tamped earth, full of "eveningflyers"30, and destitute of furniture. Parallel to it are threesmaller apartments; and above is a terraced roof, where they whofear not the dew and the land-breeze sleep.31 I found a room dulyprepared; the ground was spread with mats, and cushions against thewalls denoted the Divan: for me was placed a Kursi or cot, coveredwith fine Persian rugs and gaudy silk and satin pillows. The Hajjinstalled us with ceremony, and insisted, despite my remonstrances,upon occupying the floor whilst I sat on the raised seat. Afterushering in supper, he considerately remarked that travelling isfatiguing, and left us to sleep.