isa-normaladvance-1903-00175

Description:	THE NOEMAL ADVANCE.17cseated in chairs tmcl benches along the margins.The music of the native band, the open, lightedstores, and the noise of venders of ices, dulce, andvarious drinks suggested to us a gala day ratherthan the Sabbath. Facing one side of the Plazawas the Casino, the mens club house where thedances are given. There was a dance that nightand wc looked up to the brightly lighted balconies and into the elegantly furnished rooms wherethe guests assembled and the dancing commencedabout nine oclock. Mayaguez is the cleanest,quietest town on the Island and we left it withgreat reluctance to embark for Ponce, a townknown to us then only by name.The view of Ponce from the shore is far fromprepossessing, for the large warehouses that linethe shore shut off the view of the hills. A shortwalk brought us to the car line—an electric linewith American built cars and an occasional conductor who can speak English, broken and imperfect, but oh, so sweet! The ride on the car line,through tropical scenery, is both odd and beautiful. We sped across the little river where we sawmany washerwomen up to their knees in the waterrubbing the clothes with the cocoanut shells on thelittle boards and spreading the garments indiscriminately on the rocks, bushes, and barbed wirefences. We passed numberless native huts, eachconsisting of a single room where a hammock ofcoffee sacking and the floor did duty as beds forlarge families. Children from eighteen monthsto eight years of age were to be seen in the doorways and streets, guiltless of one stitch of clothing, their skins varying in color from the olivetinted Spaniards to the blackest negro. In almost every yard were to be seen cats, dogs, and oneor two goats or hogs.Ponce is a beautiful place because of the beautiful scenery around it and the American enterprise in it. It is indeed a city of contrasts. Onthe one hand we find the electric car line, wellequipped and well patronized on the other thedilapidated public coaches drawn by poor littlebone-racks, by courtesy, called ponies. The owners of these vehicles charge a dollar an hourwhether you want the coach for an hour or a week.Ice is two and a half cents a pound, a real luxury,yet it is carried around in little push carts protected from the hot sun only by a heavy piece ofsacking. The housekeeper buys it by the nickelsworth and sends a servant for it with an uncoveredtin pan and a record for slowness which utterlyeclipses that of the much maligned messengerboy. In order to insure fresh, pure milk, the dairymen drive the cows, accompanied by their calves,through the streets, stopping at the doorways tomilk the cows for the waiting customers. Thiswas a performance of never failing interest to us,for the dairymen milked with equal skill into acup, pitcher, or beer bottle. As a matter of fact,thejr seemed to prefer the beer bottle. While thecows were being milked the calves disported them-slves on the sidewalk regardless of pedestrians.To be sure this method of delivering milkinsured its being fresh, but it certainly did not improve the sanitary condition of the streets, whichis bad enough at best. On one corner stands theAmerican school full of clean children properlyclothed and disciplined and receiving instructionsaccording to modern methods of teaching underthe very eaves of this building is a small nativeschool where the children are dirty and but halfclad, and where the school mistress seems utterlyoblivious of the fact that while a few of the pupilsrecite others are studying aloud and not a few areplaying openl}-- and boisteriously.From the upper court yard of our boardinghouse one evening the contrasts of Ponce came toour eyes and ears with striking force. The newmoon had risen in a sky still a deep rose color fromthe setting sun. To our left on this warm, redbackground the tall, ragged palm trees raised theirregal heads crowned with circles of ragged leaves.Beyond, the restless sea pulsed softly on the shore.To our right rose the hills bathed in the soft redlight of the skies. Just below us we counted sixvarieties of tropical trees and just beneath thesetrees was the filth that only a Porto Eican familyof the common class could tolerate. Even the cleanmanana where tomorrow never comes! How manygenerations will it take to Americanize this littlefoster sister ? Emma Wagner.
Source:	http://indstate.contentdm.oclc.org/cdm/ref/collection/isuarchive/id/33989
Collection:	Indiana State University Archives

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