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Mahaweel Khan, between Baghdad and Babylon
in their houses naturally enough expect him to talk to them, for thus only can he give them the return they anticipate for their hospitality; as a general rule, they will accept no remuneration for the food and shelter they give, but they do expect payment for the feed of the animals.
The conversation one has to carry on with the host and the other villagers who drop in to see and pay their respects to the stranger is entertaining and even amusing as long as one is a novice in the country, because it is unsophisticated prattle, such as one must have heard in Europe in the Middle Ages. One unfailing topic is the rotundity of the world, the negative side of the question being always defended; they cannot believe that the sun remains stationary,—for why should they disregard the evidence of their own eyes, which show them that it does move across the vault of heaven? They ask you how much tribute your countrymen pay to their Padishah (whom we wrongly call Sultan), whose foot is upon the neck of all nations, as they firmly believe; they inquire minutely into your business at home and your reasons for travel in their country, etc. They handle with childlike joy and amazement your rifle and revolver, your knife, pen, pencils, your helmet and clothing, and the women can never have enough of feeling and fondling your socks, which are more evenly and closely knit than their backwoods, home-made article.
One must submit to an examination of this kind wherever one stops, often several times a day. Finally it palls on the traveller, unless he be gifted with the patience of Job, and from that moment he tries to avoid village hospitality. A further reason for such avoidance is the fact that the acceptance of the hospitality of villagers makes it impossible for the traveller to put into durable form his road-notes of the day while matters are still fresh in his mind. For the scientific traveller or the archæologist this is of the utmost moment. Now, among Turks writing in the house of your entertainer would simply be impolite and a boorish return for hospitality, but the Arabs regard the man who writes or draws as a spy, and will not permit it at all.
