Idul-Fitr

One more sleep for the fasters tonight before they can celebrate their accomplishment in the morning. A big day tomorrow, but basically private. As for the election on Saturday, a public holiday tomorrow. The Malay quarter here in Joo Chiat will be very quiet, all the shops and eateries closed. At day break in the morning the practice is to visit one's neighbours first of all to offer congratulation and best wishes, hopes for peace and well-being. A feast within the home following. All who can manage have returned to their families for the last two weeks of Ramadan especially, tommorow's Idul-Fitr being the culmination. An invitation to a kind of picnic in a public garden in the west of Singapore has been kindly extended by a friend here, an Indonesian gal who will meet with other ex-pats who have been unable to return home. Everyone will bring food of some sort which they will take under the shade of the trees in the park. Tempting. But perhaps best to avoid gate-crashing the girls. Marko and Phil have taken the ferry this afternoon to Batam, thinking it will be vacant and unpromising around this quarter. The thought has just occurred that Batam will be even quieter.
         All the stalls around here will be packing up overnight. Good bargains to be had on this last night. Circling back home late afternoon some preliminary packing could be seen already. That together with big reductions advertised on the improvised cardboard on the racks. The two lads selling the carpets—dozens of carpet outlets under the tarpaulins—at the Tanjong Katong opposite Lion City Plaza offered two minute portraits during the down-time. For a couple of bucks they will smooth out all wrinkles and blemishes. Both lads Indians, pacing over the stacks of carpets with their cartridge paper, calling out in various languages. On a bench on the other side of the street outside the 7/Eleven an old Chinaman had seated himself amongst some aluminum can litter. His walking frame stood before him, carrying a half dozen plastic bags of compressed cans carefully knotted. With his foot he reached for another just beyond him. What a smile, what thanks, came with the aid offered. Such a gap-toothed smile one would trip miles.
         The election produced the expected result yesterday, Tony Tan the new Pres. elect. The figures though were unexpected. In the end Tone only gathered low 30s%, beating his chief rival, a figure more independent of the ruling PAP government, by seven thousand votes - point O three per cent. A wise old eagle-eyed birdie in the neighbourhood here—who should remain namele—gave the needed gloss. The PAP split the dissident vote by allowing the two minor candidates to run, despite some questionable qualification at the Electoral Commission level. Thereby Tony T. squeaking through. Nobody needs to teach Chinese the shenanigans of political manipulation. Immediate calls for unity post-election.