Before he left for the Philippines Jamaal promised he would enquire the altitude of his wife's hill village in Baguio, three hours from Clark. True to his word, this morning after Steve the Ohioan vacated the table, Jamaal slipped into the breach. Earlier he had been met at the tea counter and advised he was in possession. Thirty/thirty-five minutes of unfolding the trip &etc. The old mother-in-law up there had received special solicitude from Jamaal. A house had been built for her down on the flat that was the envy of her ten children, all of whom—apart from the daughter here, Jamaal’s wife—still lived up on the hill in much inferior dwellings. Thus far Jamaal had spent about $25k on land and construction. Another plot of land in the neighbourhood, big spread of about two acres—from Al Wadi down to the "post-box" (that was actually a utility stand) and down to Sims Avenue. In Sing perhaps $2m, Jamaal conservatively estimated. Fifth trip, Jamaal was a big hit in Baguio. One evening he was prevailed upon to sing a song for the gathering, once the guitar was produced a fine ballad issuing. Sweet little lyric, the opening verse of which Jam gave soto voce at table, chin dropped slightly and dyed handle-bar brushed back into place on completion. Out to one side the old mother had been frying fish for dinner and asked who it was singing so captivatingly. Told it was Jamaal, seems an expletive escaped for at the command of Tagalog. How was that? Jamaal had kept his competence under wraps, a useful and perhaps understandable ploy in a position such as his. In fact, Tagalog & Malay had a great deal in common. Jam underlined the shared roots and the common humanity for the people of the two religions when he attended church to sponsor a young man's wedding, it might have been. Lad had no one else to perform the function. When Jamaal heard he had immediately offered. The first Muslim who ever entered that church, the priest announced when he saw Jamaal's name recorded on the paperwork. Whereupon Jamaal told of the same red blood under the skin; same closing of eyes & mouth at death. Priest in appreciative agreement. The old Ma had been gifted a thousand dollar gold necklace by Jamaal (either on this last visit or some earlier); grasping children lectured about their ways with the old mother, the respect due, the kindness and consideration. The sons, Jam's brothers-in-law, who were rather put out at the primitive condition of their own housing compared to their mother, ticked off by their sister’s husband and mother’s benefactor. With Jamaal's guidance the error of that attitude was granted by the brothers-in-law and undertakings given for better in the future. On departure everyone wanted to know when there might be another visit. Don't worry, Jam told them, with his German firm closing down a week in December—in Germany it was three weeks—there was good prospect. Adding another week of accrued leave would make a follow-up feasible. The wife herself earned $6k a month; Jamaal as experienced tradesman likely topping that. Other funds of some sort were in hand, from a down-grading of housing here. (The marriage to the Filipina was only five year term. A family maid last time? Or Jamaal a widower? There was some kind of story which would be enquired shortly.) Otherwise Jamaal had been lucky with his 4D, two or three upper-level prizes over the last couple years. When that dosh came in Jam was always generous—unlike some others—and this helped the luck continue. From there on the back of the money theme to an old wealthy pal who had passed away recently. The old chap too was generous with his money, though his principle was to neither a lender or borrower be.The expat Filipina gals mourned the man when he had gone. Food, dresses, perfume & accessories, if not loans and cash, now dried up. It seems chap was without family; owned numbers of top brand wrist watches (six to be precise). You know how much?... A thousand dollars seemed a good under-estimation here for present purposes. NO! Jamaal countered. One hundred and fifty, more like. Rolex and other less well-known. A kind of father-son relationship established. Once the man asked Jamal what he might like. Jamaal had not been unprepared for the question. Nothing, nothing, he answered. Only that time-piece—pointing—if that was alright. One of the prize suite. Old man promptly assented. When he was ready he would call Jamaal and hand it over. In advance one could sense the missed opportunity looming. What the old man did in good time was present Jam with a belt. For holding up Jamaal’s trousers. Initially a bit stumped, in time to come Jam learned this was no common strap. Alerted first by a friend, Jam eventually discovered even some time ago now, the article was worth not one or two hundred, but $1400. For a belt, well might one wonder. Seems near the end the old man either called and Jam had not heard the ring until too late; or else the intended call was prevented by untimely passing. Intended $150k piece gone begging. Never mind. Others in the circle had gotten their pieces; Jamaal who had equal claim, missed by a whisker. But never mind. Thirty-five or perhaps forty minutes. Later Chia the Chin convert cabbie who was always kept on a short leash at the eatery tables, remarked on the length of the conversation. The Today newspaper had given Chia a little trouble that morning. Not on terms with big Jamaal the dart-player with the flourishing dyed moustaches, Chia had sat quietly a couple of chairs off. Some of the vocab had stumped Chia that morning in the Today. Chia had good English, but not stretching so far as "valedictory", "conscientiousness" and “reckless delinquency”. There were one or two others before Chia was cut-off. And before he was cut-off the kind of snobbery of some of the Singaporean journalese that was common in the Republic, but perhaps a little unexpected in the free tabloid Today, was guessed by the Cabbie Convert all by himself, unaided and without prompting. Stuff and nonsense indeed. Pretentiousness, meritocratic trumpery and subtle airs of superiority mimicking former colonial masters, carefully crafted and reinforced wherever one happened to look here.
No comments:
Post a Comment