Jebwar Of To-Day

The March of Time In the Marshall Islands

From a Special Correspondent.

Jaluit, Marshall Is., Feb. 10.

TOURING the last 20 years such rapid U and sweeping changes have taken place in most of the Islands centres that pre-war residents returning now would hardly recognise the spick and span townships as their haunts of the “old days.” Jebwar, on the shores of Jaluit Lagoon, in the Marshall Islands, which is the seat of government in the Japanese islands, is no exception.

Change and usually improvement—but not always so—are apparent all around.

Loading barques are seen no more. In stead of waiting months for foreign news and supplies, oversea news can be had daily over the wireless, and general mail and supplies every few weeks by the three to six thousand ton steamers calling here, and which quite outclass the six or seven hundred ton vessels we thought great before the world war.

Throughout the group kerosene is used as formerly, but here at Jebwar it has been largely superseded by electricity. I rub my eyes in astonishment like Rip Van Winkle, Years ago I never thought I should see the place lighted with elec tricity, but there it is. How about ice?

It is obtainable. Geisha? There they are

just down the islet a little. There are billiards saloons here, some coffee shops there, and around the corner is a barn where moving pictures from time to time may give one an opportunity to see samurai fighting fierce battles over again.

Scores of new houses have been erected by the Japanese since the occupation; those erected by the Government being of reinforced cement, and those by mer chants and others of wood —some substan tial, and some rather flimsy. In the Ger man time there were just three stores on the islet, the head store of the Jaluit Gesellschaft and two subsidiaries of the same firm. Nowadays there are thirty odd stores, the Nanyo Boyeki Kaisha— N.8.K., for short—having the two largest.

The latest of these, which was recently completed, has fine plate glass show cases with chromium plated fittings and other appropriate accessories, such as one might expect in a fine city store.

The other stores are mostly small affairs, but all carry a large assortment of goods of all descriptions, such as was never seen here in the “old days.” Prices, too, are low, and are fairly comparable with prices in Yokohama. This may, perhaps, be ac counted for by the high rentals in Japan and the low rentals here, which may dis count the freight charges from Japan.

One may acquire a small piece of vacant land on the outskirts of the township at an extremely low rental. A light two room shack may be thrown together for several hundred yen. This, stocked with a few hundred yens’ worth of goods may set the little investor on the highway to fortune, or anyway appears to supply a living to frugal Japanese in this warm climate where expenses can be reduced to a minimum.

These stores, whether large or small, are an improvement on some of the old-time trading stations, formerly common in the group. Such are gone forever together with the old-time hard-case, or more often than not, generous hail-fellow well met trader of yore; and a pert, cock-sure busi ness man succeeds him.

There never have been broad roads here for such are not needed —the only vehicular traffic being that of hand-carts and bicycles. Former roads have been added to, and from a width of 10 or 12 feet, increased to an average width of 15 feet. In many parts they are bor dered with clipped hedges of hardy plants.

Paling fences are few, hedges serving that purpose better.

Instead of indiscriminate rubbish heaps here and there as in former times, all rub bish is now deposited in a specified de pression, and the whole township is as clean as a new pin. Instead of the ragged shoreline eaten away by the sea, or built up here and there, a symmetrical break water of coral stones and cement along the outer and inner shores of the islet pre vents damage during stormy weather.

Take an evening stroll through the main thoroughfare, and as you pass along you may detect subtle Oriental odours and Western perfumes mingling with the balmy breeze. While round about are heard raucous phonographs, groaning, sobbing, throbbing, and churning out low and high-pitched Occidental and Oriental melodies, jazzodies, and discords —a little of everything that phonographic inventors

and musicians have created, evolved or spoiled.

Noise and change are most everywhere, save in one little enclosure just around the corner. All is quiet there; no change there. Though in a central location where land is valuable, that spot has been re spected by the Japanese, and not en croached upon. It is regarded as hallowed ground, for in that cemetery rest all that was mortal of a number of foreigners, mostly German, but not all.

Some of the graves are now unmarked, some have granite headstones. One with a hardwood slab serving that purpose appeals strongly to the writer, for it marks the grave of one who left his native land long ago in the prime of life, doubtless with high hopes of seeing friends and relatives once again, but who was destined never to return. On that slab of hardwood is engraved the following:

Sacred

to The Memory of

T. T. Smith

Lieutenant Royal Navy

H. M. S. Blanche

* Died September the 29th, 1872 Aged 26 Years.

Requiescat in Pace Jeremiah 22:10 And the words, the words of that verse, what are they? They are touching words, very appropriate words in memory of one passing away like Lieutenant Smith, so far from his native land. These are: “Weep not for the dead, neither bemoan him: but weep sore for him that goeth away; for he shall return no more, nor see his native country.”

Although we never met, his passing over being long before my arrival here, there are times when he seems to be more like a living friend than mouldering dust, and more akin to me than aliens from afar, however estimable some may be, among whom my lot is cast nowadays, for his spirit survives, and his flag is mine.