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Bredimaco Angularus Directory 05
Page 08
On January 7th we arrived at the large settlement of Condamano, a sub-Prefecture in the big province of Loreto. There were two parallel streets, clean and well kept, with others intersecting at right angles. On the main street along the water front were many large commercial houses, handsome buildings of _cana_ walls and zinc roofs. The place had been built on a flat high land about 30 ft. above the river, and had some 1,500 to 2,000 inhabitants. One of the peculiarities of Condamano was that during the rubber-collecting season the population consisted almost entirely of women, as the men were in the forest collecting the latex.
But again it is true that all human souls who have an instinct for expression--writers, painters, musicians--have always been trying to do this one thing, to make signals, to communicate, to reveal themselves, to "unpack the heart in words"; and what has often hindered the process and nullified their efforts has been an uneasy dignity and vanity, that must try to make out a better case than the facts justify. For a variety of motives, and indeed for the best of motives, men and women suppress, exalt, refine the presentment of themselves, because they desire to be loved, and think that they must therefore be careful to be admired, just as the lover adorns himself and puts his best foot forward, and hides all that may disconcert interest or sympathy. So that it happens in life that often when we most desire to be real, we are most unreal.
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