.... Eleven something it seemed from the chap on the parapet wall
outside Enak, Enak; Tasty,
Tasty this morning. Two upraised forefingers after a momentary shuffling
of the hands, something like a goal-umpire’s signal. From 4 - 5 metres
it was a wise decision. The more or less that followed left some doubt: might
have been three or thirteen minutes either side. Roundabout all that was
needed, Terima kasih. Thumbs up…The word of Malay had been
unexpected. (Similarly finding himself in the ascendant position with the
wrist-watch.) Shortly afterward when the man comes over to try a witticism, with
all the gaps in the mouth, the English again problematic...Single fang it
looked like on the upper row, wide and to one side. We missed each other there.
Evidently the man was left equally disconsolate. Rounding back
one more time on his way out, in a slightly more intelligible articulation for
farewell, chap lets it be known, keeping a firm, hard face all the while: My
name not Bye-bye... A couple of repetitions were sufficient. Got it! You
cheeky old devil, playing the head-hunter from Borneo… Smiles for miles & miles across those broad features, man well into his seventies, the latter
reaches almost certainly. How could one fail to love these Malayu?
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