Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 308, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 December 1914 — Aday in the Bagdad Bazàrs [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Aday in the Bagdad Bazàrs

IN all the romantic Orient,.(from Tokyo to Teheran, there is no other spot where a white man feels thte grip of the East as in Bagdad’s splendid bazaars, writes Frederick Simpich in the Los Angeles Times. For a thousand-years swarthy men in abbas, turbans and red shoes have bought, fought, bartered and sold, wheedled and cheated in this famous market —for ages mule and camel caravans have come down from Persia, bringing rare shawls, rich rugs, bales of silk, wool and tobacco. Here, too, as in American cities, eager, keen-eyed Jews hold trade in their practiced grip. Father Abraham himself was once a familiar figure in these parts, and 50,000 of his chosen people make Bagdad their home. One Bagdad Jew, grown rich from the opium trade, is now in the British parliament. ’ . ♦ Armenians and Arabs, in tarbooshes and fancy belts, strive also for their share of Bagdad’s business; but the big things-go to Jews. The men who

work with their hands —the brass beaters, the weavers of exquisite cloths, the makers Of red shoes and beaded camel trappings—are mostly Arabs or native Christians. Time turns back ten centuries as one enters these narrow nosy shopping streets which stretch through Bagdad. Walk with me an hour and enjoy the shifting panorama. Let yourself oe drawn along the current of men, mules and grunting camels. To shut out the Arab sun a vaulted roof of brick is built, arching overhead, turning the narrow, crowded streets into long tunnels: through these subterraneanlike passages moves the multitude, and for miles along each side stretches the row of tiny stalls, hardly larger than telephone booths, all stuffed full of merchandise. Crosslegged before each booth, his wares piled high about him, sits the Jew or Arab merchant. To and fro surges the shouting, stiffing human stream, stopping to paw at goods and haggle over the price. Arab women, their brown faces screened behind the eternal yashmak, pull aside their veil with one hand and with the other upset the ordered piles of goods—jusTas their sisters in America do—and then pass on to- the next booth to talk down the price. Everyone Yells “Barlak.” Here, as in "Pipe Street," Peking, the men who sell the same sort of wares seem to seek the same streets, that they may watch each other. The narrow passages are crowded and blocked by the huge* bales of wool on the backs* of groaning Kurdish “hammals," who carry loads that would balk a Jftsky donkey, EverybodyUrells the tiresome word "barlak!” which means “get out of my way." Camel drivers from their secure and lofty perch shopt the word Insolently, as their gfeat crablike creatures stalk steadily through the throng. Turkish officers—or foreign consuls —squeezing through the mass of men and animals in their arabanas, hear the Arab drivers shout the warning word. “Barlak, effendi,** is the way It's put if the man in one’s path be more than mere clay. Barlak! For 1,200 years the crowded, dusty, bustling bazaar has echoed to the hurry-

ing cry. The crowd pushes and elbows like the human flow through an “In” sign at a subway entrance. And up from a myriad throats comes conversation in Kurdish, Turkish, Persian, Arabic, Armenian and Hindustani, Greek and French —in anything but English. * Public Life Centers There. The real public life of Bagdad centers in tlje bazaars and coffee houses, and on 'a busy trading day the crush is terrific. And men live, move and make money now. just as in the palmy days of the Arabian Nights, when Haroun-al-Raschid frequented the coffeehouses of Baggpd, and the early Babylonian kings toured the towns of Mesopotamia. The graphic tales told in the Old Testament about the early settlers of this country are easily verified, for nothing has changed. Here in the bazaar, for instance, sits a wrinkled but active person mending fishnets. Like the old apostles, the latter-day Chaldean» of Bagdad enjoy fishing in the Tigris, and every morning thqy

bring their catch to the bazaar, giving one-fifth as tithe to~the government. In a narrow, noisy gallery leading off from the main bazaar are the tentmakers; just beyond, 300 half-naked men hammer away fourteen day making red‘'shoes and sandals; near by are the makers of fancy belts, and one man sells red fezzes —made in Austria. Next is a harness maker, who turns out the camel and donkey trappings, all resplendent in shell and bead work Blend of Strong Odors. And the odor! It is that odd smell not easy to describe which is wafted up from all oriental bazaars, where half-naked men, cooking food, tobacco smoke and the stench of perspiring animals are blended. And all around the strife for life keeps up. This Arab hoy of six is selling sweets from his big flat tray. The candy is made from pistachio nuts and dhte juice, and in shrill tones he shrieks the merits of his sticky, flycatching mess. Odd-looking vegetables —pickled in vinegar are carried through the streets in wooden tubs balanced on the heads of women, for sale to the hammals. It is said that one husky Kurdish porter will eat three pounds of raw cucumbers in one day. During a great part of the year these “khlyar," or cucumbers, and along, reddish beet comprise the staple food of many of the lower classes. The cries of the various peddlers are full of Interest; a man vending flowers calls in a loud voice, “salih hamatak!" or literally, “appease your mother-in-law,” that is, buy her a bouquet Roast peas are hawked about by a man who cries “umm ennarein!” or “mother of two fires,” meaning that they have, been twice roasted. Public writers, stowed away in cozy corners of the big bazaar, write letters to order for peasants, Bedouins and even women. The man who engraves seals is usually near by; all men sign letters and deeds here with a seat and not by writing the name alone* Most children who learn to read and write in Arabia are taught by private tutor? They sit on the floor, swaying back and forth, and recite their lessons in a loud voice.

PRIEST SELLING CHICKENS