Australian writer of Montenegrin descent en route to a polyglot European port at the head of the Adriatic mid-2011 shipwrecks instead on the SE Asian Equator. 12, 36, 48…80, 90++ months passage out awaited. Scribble all the while. By some process stranger than fiction, a role as an interpreter of Islam develops; Buddhism & even Hinduism. (Long story.)
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Bullfights and Karaoke
Nice mail Georgie
Happy 12. Still day ONE here, shortly after 10pm. Three hrs behind.
Tried to pick up "Moveable Feast" in recent days. Unavailable secondhand and haven't made it into town centre recently. (Waiting for X decorations to come down.) Didn’t know H. had attended so many fights — 15, 000…. Sounds like a fisherman’s tall story. One more thing on the fights: the picadors, mounted within the ring on horses, stab the bull with long spears in order to weaken the otherwise all powerful beast. (You mighta read this on the blog. Van G's Stars & Impressionists was $11, to answer yr Q.)
Just had a street interview conducted by one of the compares of the karaoke "family festival" here beside my hotel. We had talked days past and the fella was a bit chuffed at the enthusiasm shown. You shoulda seen the groovers crooning, hus an wife duos just now, in their early seventies. What lovin they was showing. Got up in their stage gear for the last night, bow ties, big buckle belts, boots (this is a kinda winter for them!). The ladies in long gown-robes and scarves, with lottsa jewelry. The festival has been on ea nite for a month. Three dollars to belt out yr fave tune, Saturday nite comps and tall glittering trophies like we used to have at the footy club. Women of this same age-group dancing in front, two dozen of them for their special fave song it musta been, all in the long dresses and mostly scarfed. A granddad beside the stage kept releasing bubbles from one of those contraptions for his larking grandkids, who chased them down gleefully. The old fella twisted and turned to the music as he waved his wand. For one of the numbers a tall, statuesque.... ladyboy they're called when they're younger — rose to her feet to dance her steps. This lady was mid/late 60's, viridian green long beautiful dress and twirling shawl down over her forearms, legs back-kicking. The zest in these people is like a TV advertisement for exercise to keep the joints moving. Beautiful scenes, beautiful show, tremendous to partake from the side as a "mat salleh" (foreigner/white guy), as i surprised the crowd by telling them through the mike. Just delightful the ease and naturalness of it. So many of these people are born singers. A few days ago one of the tubby crew-cut fellas who looks like a boxer (bit of Tyson about him), lovely smiling, warm fella, got up to belt out a couple numbers that had you rooted to the pavement. Day-time the chap sells carpet and manchester at the corner down here. A Johor Bahru fella, where i'm off in a week-ten days. It's 1000 metres across the water to the north. Don’t really wanna venture any further. There hopefully the Malays in their own environment. This karaoke show was a Malay-Indonesian affair. The people are one really, a large archipelago community—one of the discoveries of the trip. A bonanza to be among them.
Cheers man.
p
.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment