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-79- weaving, and musical instruments of this old and cultured tribe of western Sumatra. After the Zoo we visited the market, which is in operation two days a week, and thronged with thousands of people. Many of the tradesmen co e in with buffalo carts, and there was one large area where the caribou and their lumbering, high-roofed carts were parked for the day. We wandered through the produce market, where lumber, cabbages, betel nut, pineapple, bananas, rice and coffee were being pawed over by hundreds of prospective customers. Here and there were little open air restaurants, where small groups gathered to eat good-looking reistafel out of banana leaves, dipping into the rice with their fingers, and laughing and gossipping as they ate. We went back to the hotel for lunch, and enjoyed reading the printed sheet of description of nearby spots of interest which the Hotel furnishes its guests. We were advised to see the "Holly Fisches", and the "old Hindu moments", and to go to Meninjau although there is "no public opportunity to swim into the Lake." One placard in the room urged us to "Enjoy the Nature and take an auto obile", and another one (this in a hotel that advertises hot and cold running water) informed us that the temperature of the bath was best between 12 and 4. I tried it early in the morning and it was like ice, so gathered that the water was cold in the morning and evening and hot only at noon. In the afternoon we drove to Matoer, about 20 kms. from here, where there are supposed to be some fine old houses, but to our great disgust most of them now have galvanized iron roofs instead of the far more picturesque thatch. Curiously enough the original shape of the roof is retained, and the effect of the sweeping high gables wrought in galvanized iron is weird beyond belief. From Matoer, which is high in the mountains, we drove down a steep and norrow road to Lake Meninjau, a gem of vivid blue set deep in the hills. The afternoon was late, and rain was threatening, so we did not get out to explore the country as we should have liked to do. Back at the hotel we engaged in our favorite game of bargaining with the peddlers, who bring batik, native jewelry, and interesting exa ples of Meninkabau weaving to see to us. The weaving is varied, and in many instances beautiful. The Menkb's weave a great deal of silk, and make cloths of rich rose and blue color, into which is put quantities of gold thread imported from China. They also do some weaving in wool, and stud their garments with bits of mica from British India. The effect is often garish, but some of it is quite lovely. We got some of the silk weaving, a soft old piece that looked more like Italian silk than Indian, and a huge white cloak from Pajacombo, with red silk woven into the border. A silk sarong and a couple of kain kepala were done in good Batik patterns. Beirne and I had lots of fun seeing who could drive the best bargain, but she finally paid what the man wanted for one of the mica-decorated pieces, and I never did get one. I couldn't really imagine what I would do with it at home unless I gave it to the circus for elephant trappings. June 3 - We wasted the entire morning trying to find the Resident in
Transcription Notes:
'm' omitted from some words, may be problem with that key on typewriter from time to time, transcribed as typed
the word 'norrow' transcribed as typed
