VIV
93
“ feet
Beri beri was developing by February and the streets were filled with dead, most of the bodies had dreadfully swollen feet, beri beri and palagra, and many of the beggars had swol too, in the later months. And there were so many funerals, of well to do people; the great tree on the road across from the lower gate leading into the garden of St. Stephen's was a favorite stopping place. The relatives paused there and burned spirit money and wailed. Some of the funerals were quite large, and as the people were apparently not poor, perhaps the deaths were from natural causes. It all made an atmosphere though.
Snatching became a great danger and I was followed into the garden of St. Stephen's up the path leading to the front door, and attacked by a Chinese youth, of about twenty two years, who was determined to get my pocketbook. I had always carried one, together with a heavy walking stick and had been so far unmolested. This day, the 20th of February, was a rainy one and I had taken instead a small umbrella. I -put up a fight for several minutes, smashing a milk/pitcher
over his head, but found myself badly handicapped by a heavy coat, gloves, and a parcel, as well as using one hand to try and hold on to the pocket book. He got it finally and ran away with it. I found it torn open, later in the afternoon, along the same road, together with some snapshots of my husband and my pass. Very considerate of him to have thrown them away, as there wasn't much in the bag, and the loss of the pass would have been a serious matter for me and the snapshots were previous.
After that I always carried the walking stick attached to my right wrist with a loop of heavy cord. And luckily I did carry it, because the Queen's Road and other roads in the Central District became infested by half starving beggars, thousands of them, and I was robbed of a parcel of bread one day several weeks later. I broke my walking stick over the thief's head, and brought him down in a heap on the street, bleeding profusely. He got no sympathy from the crowd that gathered in an instant, and as I turned to cross the street three minutes later I saw two girls with a package of biscuit robbed, the biscuits flying into the air, and hardly reaching the ground, they were swooped upon and devoured by a ravenous gang of small boys and lads and men,
These people prowled the streets for weeks, they would no doubt in normal times have been casual laborers, the bigger ones. They were a frightening sight, and I carried all purchases in a Hongkong basket also attached to my wrist by a loop of cord. Everybody I knew was robbed, of food, no one escaped, the people were disperate. Whenever a lorry load of rice appeared, gange of children pursued it, with brushes and small tin boxes gathering up any grains that fell, the stronger ones jumping up into the lorries themselves. They were like sparrows.
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