Chapter 842: Leibtrini's Observations

If I could secure such an abundant supply of candy in Italy, opening a shop that catered specifically to nobles and dignitaries might very well make me rich. But here, candy prices were remarkably cheap. Out of curiosity, Mr. Gonzalez spent one Real and purchased an entire large bag of assorted candies. The sweets were packaged in small waxed paper bags, exquisitely made. The shop gave us a straw-woven bag to carry the candy—the bag itself could be called a work of art.

The most peculiar pastime was their tobacco. You surely know that this plant from the New World is currently fashionable around the globe. People have devised various different methods for enjoying it. But in Lingao, there existed a new way of consuming tobacco. They manufacture it into long paper rolls for sale—white paper rolled into delicate tubes about as thick as a pen, evenly filled with shredded tobacco. They call these "cigarettes." Those who smoke them typically use a hollow bamboo, wooden, or stiff paper tube attached to the cigarette, to avoid burning their lips as the cigarette nears its end.

Cigarettes are sold in packs or boxes of ten or twenty, in various colors and patterns. Although each individual cigarette appears much the same to us, the prices vary enormously depending on the color and pattern of the packaging. The most expensive pack could purchase ten packs of the cheapest variety. Neither Mr. Gonzalez nor I could furnish a reasonable explanation for this disparity. To our eyes, apart from the packaging, the two seemed to have no obvious difference.

A form of paper money called "circulation vouchers" is used here. Marco Polo once claimed that the Tatars used paper money in China. I had always been highly skeptical of this assertion—because there is no one in this world who loves silver more than the Chinese. Except for very few goods, the Chinese always insist that the Company pay in silver. But in Lingao, they do indeed employ paper money. The bills are beautifully printed, with intricate and finely executed patterns. Especially on the background, exceedingly delicate line-drawn patterns are traced. Even as a painter, I felt such precise rendering was beyond my capabilities. As for what method they employ to print the patterns in layers onto the paper, that is an even greater mystery. Obviously, they possess highly skilled copperplate engravers.

All the shops here accept paper money. Of course, the shopkeepers are also pleased to accept our Reals, but when making change, they can only provide paper money. For this reason, we were obliged to purchase exactly one Real's worth of goods each time to avoid accumulating piles of paper money worthless outside this place. This shopping method ultimately left us returning laden with purchases.

We lingered in every shop. Each one opened our eyes. I can well understand why the Company was so eager to dispatch a merchant here. Lingao is also a treasure trove for trade—there are many, many novel goods here that we have never seen or even heard of before.

There are even shops here that sell ready-made clothes—this is truly surprising. Without a tailor taking measurements and cutting fabric, how could they produce clothes that fit? Admittedly, Australian clothing by our standards is rather crude and shabby. Their garments use neither woolen cloth nor silk nor leather, only cheap Indian or Chinese cotton and linen. The style of clothing is so simple that it is only marginally better than the attire of the Batavia natives. At the reception celebrating the trade agreement, the Australian Senators in attendance almost universally wore these crude and shabby clothes—such a custom is truly difficult to comprehend.

The clothes sold at the ready-made clothing shops have no style to speak of. It is said this is the standard dress of the Australians and their subjects. Except for certain details, the garments are almost entirely identical, and even the colors are limited to merely a few: black, gray, blue, and brown.

Regarding the Australians and their subjects, based on my observations, this is the situation:

The Australians have clear requirements for their subjects—they must adopt the same attire as the Australians themselves. This includes men shaving their hair very short and women keeping short hair. Regardless of gender, all wear "Australian-style" clothing, which is the simple clothing that Australians of all ranks wear, as I described earlier. They call them "uniforms."

Whether they are native soldiers the Australians have recruited and trained locally, their hired workers, farmers laboring on their behalf, commercial personnel, or others—all without distinction wear clothing of identical style. Certain groups, such as the military, have slightly specialized clothing. Others are distinguished by various ornaments, markings, and special equipment—similar to our heraldry.

Just as we saw on the night streets, there were special police officers on duty. Their clothes were exactly the same as those sold in the ready-made shops. The conical hat, white leggings, small cloth patch at the collar, and cloth badge on the chest distinguished him from others. Of course, he also carried a short wooden club as a weapon.

Using this method, I think the only advantage is that it facilitates mass production. Obviously, the Australians feel obligated to provide clothing for all their subjects. To clothe tens of thousands of people, the style must be simplified as much as possible to facilitate production.

As for why they provide uniform clothing for their subjects, I have not determined. We initially surmised that perhaps it was to allow the Australians to distinguish their subjects from the local Chinese at a glance—after all, they all have Chinese faces. But this was disproved when Mr. Gonzalez had no difficulty purchasing a set of the same style of clothing at a clothes shop. Obviously, anyone can purchase this plain and simple clothing. And many of the common people we saw on the streets of East Gate Market still wore traditional Chinese clothing with topknots.

Setting aside reasons we cannot fathom, the obvious explanation should be that the Australians love uniformity. This is evident from how they regulate their subjects' attire. Not only that, but the various buildings we observed in East Gate Market also exuded a sense of uniformity. Although from the exterior these closely packed buildings were varied and of different heights, in their details, all buildings were constructed following nearly identical patterns. In my view, all buildings in East Gate Market were assembled from the same structures and dimensions in different configurations.

The Australians employ completely identical building materials on a large scale. Fired bricks are their most commonly used building material—the primary material of all buildings. Most are red, though some are blue. The texture is solid and fine, obviously the result of high-temperature firing. I carefully observed several buildings along the street. They generally use three different sizes of bricks. Each size of brick is employed in different parts, but follows the same usage principle on every building. The windows, doors, steps, and railings they use on buildings, based on my observation, can all be attributed to several completely identical types. Obviously, these building accessories are mass-produced at some workshop according to a few fixed sizes and geometric shapes, rather than fabricated on-site by craftsmen. Using this method should considerably accelerate the construction of houses. It must be through employing such methods that the Australians were able to build a prosperous city here in just a few years.

Unlike the Chinese or European buildings I have seen, East Gate Market houses have almost no decoration whatsoever. Whether on roofs, eaves, or walls, you cannot detect a trace of carving, sculpture, or murals. Walls are simply painted white or black, or sometimes the bare brick is left exposed. In Batavia and along the Chinese coast, I observed that the Chinese love to carve detailed bas-reliefs or apply various colorful paintings on the beams and columns of their houses. But here, wooden structures are merely coated with the simplest layer of paint.

There is a peculiar sense of uniformity pervading this place. After discovering the characteristics of the buildings, I suddenly realized that many things in East Gate Market were the same: streetlights, garbage baskets, street signs... even the people walking on the streets bore a curious resemblance to one another. This is a feeling I cannot adequately describe.

Our walk was most pleasant. No one disturbed us on the main streets, and the shopkeepers were uniformly friendly. We discovered a church of the Holy Church in East Gate Market—this truly overjoyed us. As you know, in Batavia, the fanatical Puritans forbid us from praying and compel us to attend their services. Now, under Australian rule in Lingao, there actually existed a Catholic church.

This church, from its appearance, was both simple and elegant. More importantly, it was relatively "non-standard." Its appearance reminded me of the little churches found in the small towns of my homeland. The church door stood open, and bright light shone from the windows—this was the sacred glow that made us feel warm. We immediately went inside.

...

Wu Shimang yawned continuously but still had to maintain a serious expression. He was supervising John Dermot, an apprentice friar from Ireland, painting murals on the wall. The East Gate Market church had recently been renovated—Daoquanzi the Taoist Master had just refurbished an already abandoned old temple in Lingao County town, held a consecration ceremony, and made it the official base of the New Taoism. This stirred a competitive spirit in Wu Shimang, prompting him to crack down hard on both hardware and software improvements. The East Gate Market church had not been built very long, so of course it could not be demolished and rebuilt. But Pastor Wu felt the interior of the church remained too austere and lacked impact. The arrival of Jin Lige and others provided him with free renovation workers. Painting murals, installing stained glass, and using tiles for interior decoration were all placed on the agenda. Shortly after Jin Lige and his apprentice arrived in Lingao, they were put to work on mural painting and interior decoration of the entire monastery.

These two priests worked from dawn to dusk painting murals, sculpting plaster statues, and even reluctantly participated in creating stained glass windows—of course, this was not solely for religious service. The Propaganda and Architecture departments likewise required new art forms for their respective purposes.

(End of Chapter)