Climate and Health in Hot Countries and the Outlines of Tropical Climatology A Popular Treatise on Personal Hygiene in the Hotter Parts of the World, and on the Climates That Will Be Met Within Them.

CHAPTER II.

Chapter 34,759 wordsPublic domain

On Clothing.

The principles that should guide us in the contrivance of tropical costume may be epitomised in a single sentence. Keep the head cool and the abdomen warm:--and most of the costumes of the more civilised tropical races usually meet these requirements.

It is of course generally true that it is well in matters of costume to take as a general guide the habits of the inhabitants of the country we are visiting; but the recommendation cannot be taken too literally, as, apart from questions of cut and fashion, a too slavish imitation might be as hazardous to health as it would be fatal to decency, as there are places where the Paris fashions consist only of a hoop of cane or a liberal smearing of clay. Nor can the question be lightly solved by simply adopting lighter materials, as, in addition to adaptation to altered meteorological conditions, our dress should be so contrived as to afford protection against certain other dangers which are only indirectly the outcome of climatic conditions, notably against the attacks of mosquitoes, which are now known to be no mere irritating annoyances, but to undoubtedly serve as the carriers of several of the most deadly of tropical diseases.

Moreover, although very pleasant, it is by no means safe to knock about the house bare-footed in countries where scorpions and centipedes, to say nothing of poisonous snakes, are every-day vermin.

The “flannel next the skin” doctrine, too, is applicable only to those blessed with hides sufficiently phlegmatic to tolerate the material; and enthusiasts in its favour are apt to forget that our powers of resistance to extreme heat depend entirely on the healthy action of the skin, so that, if that important portion of our anatomy be kept in a condition of chronic inflammation by “prickly heat,” it must necessarily be more or less incapacitated from performing its proper functions.

The substratum of truth that underlies most doctrines, good, bad and indifferent, depends in this case on the fact that in hot climates it is especially important that clothing should be absorbent and porous; but, provided this be secured by the plan of manufacture, the nature of the fibre used is of little moment.

It must be admitted that the well-known Jaeger materials are in all respects admirable for all but the higher grades of atmospheric temperature, but when the thermometer gets up in the nineties, unadulterated wool becomes too irritating for the majority, and an admixture of silk, as in the so-called “Anglo-Indian gauze,” is preferable. Pure silk gets too easily sodden with perspiration, and in that state is too good a conductor of heat to form by itself a desirable material, but the combination of the two fibres forms an ideal material for wear during periods of excessive heat.

This material is necessarily rather costly, though it is surprisingly strong in proportion to its weight, and with ordinary care in washing lasts a long time, whereas the cheaper material of mixed cotton and wool is apt to shrink, and hence requires to be frequently replaced.

All materials into the composition of which wool enters, require great care in washing if they are to retain the properties which render them, in one form or another, so valuable in all climates. It need hardly be pointed out that they are at once hopelessly spoiled by a short immersion in boiling, or even very hot water. For the frequently changed garments of European residents of the Tropics little else is required than immersion and rinsing about in luke-warm or cold soap and water, and there is rarely need to guard against their being spoiled by heat, as neither soap nor hot water are much used by persons following the trade of washing in semi-civilised lands; but the severe beating and manipulation to which they subject everything that comes into their hands is almost as effectual in felting and spoiling woollen goods as great heat. It is pretty well impossible to induce a native to so alter his methods as to wash such articles in the orthodox European fashion, unless, indeed, one were disposed to occupy one’s time in personally superintending the process; but by cautioning against rough and excessive manipulation, and steadily refusing to pay for articles spoiled, it is generally possible to minimise the evil.

While touching on the subject of the washing of clothes, it may be well to remark, that although personal superintendence of the process may be out of the question, it is certainly important to find out and inspect the place where the washing is done, which in such countries as India and China, and doubtless elsewhere, will too often be found to be some filthy stagnant pool, redolent with the accumulated dirt of all classes of the population. But for the powerful germ-killing powers of the tropical sun to which the articles are subjected in the process of drying, there can be no doubt that disease would be spread in this way much more frequently than is actually the case, but it will not do to trust this natural disinfection too far, and without counting suspected instances of the transmission of really serious diseases, there can be no doubt that the troublesome skin disease known as “dhobie’s itch,” is often contracted by Europeans in this way. The policy of sparing the imagination by shutting the eyes is, in this case again, a fallacy which may lead to considerable personal inconvenience and perhaps to danger.

If, as is not unfrequently the case, all the public washing places are undesirable, it is well worth while providing the simple arrangements required by natives following this calling within one’s own enclosure.

All that is required is a masonry platform about 6 feet square, connected by a channel with the well and enclosed with walls about a foot high, the whole being lined with cement. A short length of metal pipe, capable of being closed with a wooden plug, must be built into the wall at the lowest edge of the platform, so as to admit of the dirty water being drained off. A piece of smoothly-worked plank, about 4 feet by 2 feet, with rounded corrugations athwart it, formed like those of corrugated iron roofing on a smaller scale, is all the additional apparatus required, and I feel sure that these simple appliances would be found much more frequently within our compounds than they are, if Anglo-Indians in general had any idea of the filthy conditions under which their clothing is commonly washed. Of course, such a matter as the cleanliness of public washing places ought to be a matter of superintendence and regulation by the authorities, but as yet everything is usually left to individual initiative, and those who wish to protect themselves must take their own precautions.

A not uncommon mistake of persons making their first sally into these warm climates is to leave behind them all their everyday European apparel, under which circumstances the one or two old suits that were taken to see them through the chops of the Channel and “Bay” become most treasured possessions, for there are very few parts of the world where, at some season or another, our ordinary English outfit will not be found convenient and suitable. Even the “Equatorial Rowing Club” probably find it well to put on their sweaters on returning to Singapore, after a spurt along “the line.”

Within intertropical limits no doubt, the occasions on which the garb of temperate climates is required are rare, but everywhere outside them there are ample opportunities of comfortably wearing out clothing adapted to life in Europe. In the Northern Punjab one’s heaviest English clothing is required for two or three months in the year, while in South Africa the diurnal range of temperature is so great that a light overcoat is required after sunfall in the hottest time of the year, and even in the Persian Gulf stout woollen clothing is required from December to early March. A glance at the meteorological data furnished in the second part of the book devoted to climate, will give the best idea of what will be required, as it may be taken as certain that in any case where the mean monthly temperature approximates at any season to that of our native island, clothing appropriate to the corresponding season of the year will be desirable.

In choosing a costume for really hot weather it must be remembered that any material requiring to be starched is about as suitable for the purpose as mackintosh sheeting, because linen and cotton fabrics, starched and ironed, are, as long as they retain their appearance, quite as impervious to transpiration. After they have lost their stiffness their appearance is most objectionable and disgusting, and it is a fortunate circumstance that they become so soon sodden, as there can be no doubt, that but for this, their use would be clung to by the conservative Briton, far more than he is able to do.

For this reason the loss of popularity of late years of the old-fashioned white “American drill” clothing, once universally adopted, is hardly to be regretted. Without a considerable amount of starching they never looked fresh after an hour or two’s wear, and with it the material ceased to be suitable. It is, indeed, a mistake to provide oneself with clothing of this sort in England, as even “American drill” of the right sort, cannot be obtained, and the light cotton tweeds and checks which are now in use in India do not appear to be found in the home market. It is, of course, necessary to obtain two or three suits for use on the outward voyage, but to obtain more than this, is only to burden oneself with what will, as likely as not, prove to be useless, and perhaps noticeably out of the fashion of the country.

A few shirts of soft cotton “twilled lining,” made with turned down collars, like a cricketing shirt, perhaps three pairs of white drill trousers (the material used by merchant seamen and known as “Dungaree” is the most suitable) and an alpaca coat and waistcoat will suffice. Unless one belongs to the clerical profession, the alpaca should be fawn-coloured, or, at any rate, not black, as in this colour the material is a sort of badge of missionary enterprise, and it is embarrassing to be asked to conduct service on the main deck, under false pretences. For the sub-tropical portion of the voyage, light flannel suits, made with as little lining as possible, are most suitable, and will prove useful, in any warm climate, at certain seasons of the year.

In really hot weather, however, if thin enough to be cool, flannel becomes too flimsy to serve for outer garments, and one is practically restricted to cotton fabrics. Of late years a variety of cotton materials have been made in India in imitation of the woollen tweeds in general use in Europe, and have the great advantage that the little deception is all the better maintained if they are kept unstarched.

Without desiring to furnish a gratuitous advertisement to any individual enterprise, missionary or otherwise, I see no harm in mentioning that I have met with no fabrics so suitable for tropical wear as those manufactured by the admirable Basel Mission at Cannanore, and though their energies are presumably mostly confined to the Indian market, I have little doubt they would export parcels if asked to do so.

They have shown great ingenuity in contriving light porous materials, almost indistinguishable at a short distance from those to which we are accustomed at home, and there can be no doubt that the short-fibred Indian cotton possesses certain properties that cause materials manufactured from it to be softer and more absorbent than those made from the harder and longer American fibre. At any rate I can account in no other way for the marked difference that exists between the fabric known as “twilled lining,” manufactured in Cawnpore, and what appears to the eye the same article obtained in England, though the latter is by no means to be despised.

It is but ten or twelve years since some bold innovator made the discovery that the cheap and despised “twilled lining” formed an admirable underwear for hot climates, and whoever he may have been, he was certainly a great benefactor to the Anglo-tropical community, for none of the numerous expensive patent materials that have from time to time been brought out, combine the same good qualities to anything like the same degree. It absorbs moisture quite as well as flannel of the same substance, and can be comfortably tolerated by the most irritable skin, while I doubt if it exposes one to greater danger of chilling than any other material of like weight. It can be safely worn next the skin without the intervention of a vest, which is indispensable with the ordinary starched linen shirt, and is, all considered, the best material for shirts, and for pyjamas for night wear, as various striped patterns are made specially suitable for the latter purpose. While speaking of night clothes, it may be well to remark that the ordinary pattern of short coat, commonly worn with pyjamas, is a distinctly dangerous garment, as it is very liable to ruck up during sleep, and so leave exposed the abdominal organs, which are of all parts of the body the most vulnerable to chill. To leave any portion of the abdomen exposed for even a short time while at rest is an extremely hazardous matter, so that in place of the usual coat it is far better to wear a shirt which can be safely tucked into the pyjamas.

I was glad to hear, during a recent visit to India, that the rational and cleanly custom of adopting white for evening dress was again coming into vogue, for even the lightest cloth clothing is undesirably hot, and the idea of wearing, night after night, garments which cannot be washed, in a climate so productive of perspiration, is, to say the least of it, somewhat repulsive.

It is, I understand, now the custom to have them cut after the pattern of the now almost universal “dress jacket,” but it is probably better to have them made by an English tailor of white drill, when fitting out, as the cut of the native workman is hardly to be relied on, though he may be trusted fairly well for nether garments. A broad silk sash or kamarband is usually substituted for the waistcoat; and to protect the ankles from the attacks of mosquitoes, which bite easily through a thin sock, it is a good anti-malarial precaution to have the trousers fitted with straps.

For riding, either stout khaki drill or the admirable cotton cords made at Cannanore are most suitable, and they are best cut after the pattern of the very handy “Puttialla” breeches, in which the breeches are prolonged below the knee into a closely fitting extension formed like a gaiter, as this does away with the necessity of wearing the very hot and unsanitary long boot. These garments would also be very useful, either at the Cape on account of ticks, or in parts of Burmah and Assam as a protection against leeches, as in both these, and no doubt in many other localities, these pests swarm so amongst the herbage that it is impossible to go abroad in ordinary trousers unless they be tucked into the socks. It is true that knickerbockers and long stockings will serve the same purpose, but few can bear the irritation caused by stockings thick enough to be worn in this way, in climates of this sort.

Another very suitable class of material for outer garments is to be found in the coarse wild silk that is met with and manufactured in parts of India, under the name of Tussur serge, and I have no doubt that many other parts of the world produce materials equally adaptable to our needs.

The matter of head covering requires special consideration, as there is a quite unaccountable difference as to the risk of sunstroke in climates which, as judged by the thermometer and the brilliancy of the sunlight, appear quite similar.

Accidents of this sort are almost unknown at the Cape of Good Hope; even as far north as Natal, and throughout our colonies there, and I believe also in America and Australia, a broad-leaved felt hat appears to afford quite adequate protection, always provided that it be not looped up in the idiotic “smartness” of an Imperial yeoman’s headgear. It is wonderful, too, how European officers contrive to go about in Egypt in the singularly unpractical “fez,” which, save as a protection for the bald within the house, appears about the most ill-contrived headgear yet contrived.

To wear one in June in most parts of India, would be certain death to the majority of Europeans, and few could venture to wear it at any time of the year.

For India, however, and other climates where sunstroke is common, a good sun-hat is indispensable, and there is undoubtedly no material that at all equals pith or _solah_ for the purpose; and the bigger, the thicker, and uglier, the better it is for the purpose. Thick stiffened felt also answers very well, but is not reliable under extreme conditions, unless made double with an intervening air space throughout. Whatever the material, it is essential that the interior should be well ventilated, and this is most efficiently secured by the hat itself being attached to a comparatively narrow band that encircles the head, by the means of a few widely separated pieces of cork; no lining or other material being allowed to obstruct the passage of air.

The ordinary brass bound eyelet holes and squat top ventilator, so often seen in home-made “helmets,” are generally, for all practical purposes, absolutely useless.

Of the various shapes of solah hat in use, I am inclined to think the “Cawnpore tent club hat” is the best. This is made with the brim almost horizontal in front so as not to interfere with vision, and well sloped elsewhere, and is quite comfortable to ride, shoot, or work in. It has been adopted for the troops for tropical field service, but is I notice, already commencing to undergo evolution in the direction of smart inefficiency so dear to the heart of the military milliner.

Constructed as they are of strips of pith glued together, solah hats naturally go to pieces in rainy weather, but this can be obviated by covering with some waterproof material instead of the alpaca, or brown holland, usually used. The padded and quilted coverings to solah hats sometimes seen are absurd, as quilted cotton is far inferior as a non-conductor of heat to a similar thickness of pith, and the padding greatly increases the weight of the head gear.

In case of emergency, the oriental pugaree or turban is a very fair protection, though it requires a good deal of practice to tie it properly. Five or six yards of coarse muslin can, however, be got even in small native towns, and such accidents as one’s hat blowing out of a railway carriage, or off the head into a river, may occur to any one, so that the expedient may obviate one’s either incurring considerable risk, or submitting to the alternative of returning with one’s errand unperformed.

Many persons are well nigh as sensitive to insolation of the spine as of the brain, and suffer at once from the exposure of the back to the sun’s rays. I have never personally experienced inconvenience on this score, but know that many find that the sun playing on this part of the person causes a dull, heavy aching:--an oppression rather than pain. Persons subject to such symptoms should wear a broad pad of the same material as the coat, thickly padded with cotton wool. The pad should not form part of the coat, but be made separately to button on, as it is cooler worn thus. Turning to the opposite extremity of the body, it must be admitted that, owing to the entire want of ventilation, our European foot gear is very unsuited for use in hot climates. Every one knows the discomfort that is caused by boots that “draw” the feet, and these symptoms are entirely caused by the comparative imperviousness of leather, as is clearly shown by the greater discomfort caused by patent leather, which is practically air-proof. On this account, shoes are more generally useful than boots, though the latter are required for shooting, or work in the jungle; as shoes do not sufficiently protect the ankle from thorns, or the possible attacks of a snake. During the hot weather, the most comfortable form of foot-gear is a canvas shoe, but as made by the ordinary English shoemaker with leather lining and elaborate leather toe-caps and cross straps, they present no real advantages over an ordinary leather shoe. They should be made of stout but open woven canvas, with no lining except over the stiffener at the heel, and quite without toe-caps or other ornamentation; though the sole should be as stout as that of an ordinary walking shoe, and it is better to choose a brown canvas, as the “blanco” used for giving a clean appearance to white canvas, soon fills up the pores of the fabric and makes it almost as impervious as leather. The Persians wear a sort of ankle boot, the upper of which is formed of knitted twine, and these “málikis,” made up on an European last, form ideal “uppers” for hot climates, for they are admirably porous, though so strong that they will outlast half-a-dozen leather “uppers.” Can not our European manufacturers devise something similar? In hot wet weather, it is a mistake to try to keep the water out, as the sock, if enclosed in a water-tight boot, will very soon become so saturated with perspiration that one has simply subjected oneself to heat and discomfort to no purpose. Whether for rainy weather, or for wading after snipe, or when fishing, the only desideratum is that the water should be able to ran out as easily as it gets in. Provided that clothing is changed as soon as one gets into shelter, no harm need be feared from getting either clothing or the feet wet, as long as one is on the move, in the climates with which we have to do. For the same reason the advantages of a waterproof are very doubtful, the fact being that, with a combination of heat and rain, one is bound to get wet anyhow, and whether the moisture comes from the outside or the inside of our garments is a matter of little moment. One other point in connection with foot-gear remains to be noticed, and that is that as one’s feet and hands become a full size larger under tropical conditions, it is necessary that those included in our outfit should be full large; for a shoe so loose as to be almost slipshod in England, will be found to be quite tight when tried on in India. The best way is not to confuse your shoemaker with directions, but to put on a couple of pairs of thick woollen socks and get measured over them.

At night, the main object is to have as little in contact with the skin as possible, so that mattresses of all sorts are best put aside during the hot months and a smooth mat substituted. Most tropical races actually prefer to sleep on a hard surface, such as the floor, during periods of heat, and though few Europeans can habituate themselves to so hard a couch, the majority prefer a cot formed of tightly strained cordage or webbing to the more modern spring bed of woven wire, the yielding character of which causes the surface laid upon to follow too closely the curves of the body. Personally, I prefer the woven wire, covered only with a loosely-made reed mat. Costing only a few pence, such mats may be frequently renewed, and they are far cooler than the fine and closely-woven “China” mats, which are rather costly, and in the finest quality almost impervious to air.

Assuming that one is properly protected against mosquitoes, the feet and chest may be left bare, but a light blanket or rug, folded to about 2 feet wide, should be thrown across the abdomen, as nothing is more dangerous than chill to this portion of the body.

Ladies’ costume lends itself more readily to coolness than that of the sterner sex, though its advantages are usually thrown away, by their obstinate adherence to the corset, a garment which is even more pernicious in hot climates than elsewhere. Apart from this, their most common mistake is to err on the side of over-coolness, and medical men who practise in the Tropics are constantly meeting with serious and obstinate cases arising from inadequate protection to the abdominal and pelvic organs.

Ladies too often expose the head to the sun in a most foolhardy way. It may be admitted that a safe sun-hat is not particularly becoming to either sex, but in the presence of the girl graduate, often surpassing her male competitors, no one can doubt that a substratum of brains underlies the golden hair, and this being admitted, it is clearly morally incumbent on ladies not only to make themselves attractive, but to take proper care of thinking organs of such high quality. Besides, a woman with a headache is seldom charming, and a very genuine one--no mere boredom--is too often contracted by the conscientious performance of the quasi-religious duty of paying calls at noon in a picture hat.

Even where a covered conveyance is available--and many of us do not run to anything more ambitious than a dog-cart in the East--it is quite possible to contract a headache in crossing a pavement, and when a lady drives herself, it is almost impossible for her groom to so hold an umbrella over her as to afford protection, without obstructing her view. On this account, it is better that on such expeditions she should submit to be driven, so that she may have her hands free to carry an umbrella or sunshade; and it is well to remember that a fairly large sunshade with a padded cover is really more efficient than the largest single umbrella, or even one provided with the customary thin outer white cover.

Mothers have a general tendency to overclothe their children. Provided that the abdomen be properly protected by a flannel “binder,” the less they are hampered during the day the better. A child’s extremities rapidly become clammy if it be inadequately clothed, and as long as these feel comfortably warm, nothing but harm can result from stifling them with coverings which cause prickly heat, with attendant loss of rest and all the evils that result from chronic nervous irritation. Above all things, the face should never be covered, even with a handkerchief, in the case of the youngest of infants; as this pernicious fad of nurses and mothers necessarily leads to the rebreathing of air already rendered impure by passing through the lungs, than which few things are more destructive to health, even in adults, let alone in an infant, where the rapid chemical changes involved in growth and development demand a supply of oxygen proportionately far in excess of that required by a grown-up person.

In children much troubled with prickly heat, who have reached the age of intelligence, a pair of silk drawers should be worn under the binder; and during the day, and at night under the mosquito net, nothing more than this is really required. At dusk, when they go out for their airing, and at any time when mosquitoes are in evidence, their costume should be contrived so as to protect them from the attacks of the insects as far as possible.

In countries where ophthalmia is common, protection from flies during the day is almost as essential as against mosquitoes at night, and if the child falls asleep it should at once be placed under a mosquito net, as the eyes of children seem to have a peculiar attraction for flies, and there can be no doubt that these insects are often instrumental in carrying infectious matter from the eyes of the diseased to those of the healthy.