We were visited by a mercantile, bustling, comical Japan, which rushed
upon us in full boat-loads, in waves, like a rising sea. Little men and
little women came in a continuous, uninterrupted stream, but without
cries, without squabbles, noiselessly, each one making so smiling a bow
that it was impossible to be angry with them, so that by reflex action
we smiled and bowed also. They carried on their backs little baskets,
tiny boxes, receptacles of every shape, fitting into one another in the
most ingenious manner, each containing several others, and multiplying
till they filled up everything, in endless number. From these they drew
forth all manner of curious and unexpected things: folding screens,
slippers, soap, lanterns, sleeve-links, live cicalas chirping in little
cages, jewelry, tame white mice turning little cardboard mills, quaint
photographs, hot soups and stews in bowls, ready to be served out in
rations to the crew;--china, a legion of vases, teapots, cups, little
pots and plates. In one moment, all this was unpacked, spread out with
astounding rapidity and a certain talent for arrangement; each
seller squatting monkey-like, hands touching feet, behind his fancy
ware--always smiling, bending low with the most engaging bows. Under the
mass of these many-colored things, the deck presented the appearance of
an immense bazaar; the sailors, very much amused and full of fun, walked
among the heaped-up piles, taking the little women by the chin, buying
anything and everything; throwing broadcast their white dollars. But
how ugly, mean, and grotesque all those folk were! I began to feel
singularly uneasy and disenchanted regarding my possible marriage.
Yves and I were on duty till the next morning, and after the first
bustle, which always takes place on board when settling down in
harbor--boats to lower, booms to swing out, running rigging to make
taut--we had nothing more to do but look on. We said to each other:
“Where are we in reality?--In the United States?--In some English colony
in Australia, or in New Zealand?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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