Before he left for the Philippines Jamaal promised he would enquire the altitude of his wife's hill village in Baguio, three hours out from Clark. True to his word, this morning after Steve the Ohioan vacated the table, Jamaal 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 and related. The old mother-in-law up there in the Philippines received especial solicitude from Jamaal: a house has 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 live up on the hill in much inferior accommodation. Thus far, Jamaal has spent about $25k on land and construction. Another plot of land in the neighbourhood, big spread of about two acres—from the Al Wadi front severy 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 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 the table this morning, chin dropped slightly and dyed handle-bar brushed back into place on completion. Out to one side the old mother was frying fish for dinner and asked who it was singing so captivatingly. Told it was Jamaal, seems an expletive escaped from mum at the unexpected 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 and 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 and when Jamaal heard 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; the same closing of eyes and mouth at death. Not difficult to credit the priest’s agreement and fulsome appreciation. 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 standpoint granted by the brothers-in-law and undertakings made by them for better behaviour 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 tradesman likely topping that. Other funds of some sort were in hand, from a down-grading of housing here it may have been. (The marriage to the Filipina was only five year term. Was she a family maid "last time"? Or Jamaal a widower? There was some kind of story which would be enquired.) Otherwise, Jamaal had been lucky with his 4D, two or three upper level prizes over the last couple of years. When that dosh came in Jam always spread it around—unlike some tight-arse others—and this helped the luck continue rolling. From there on the back of the money motif perhaps, to an old wealthy pal who had passed away recently. The old chap often spread his own money around, though his principle was to be neither a lender nor borrower. The expat Filipina gals mourned the man when he had gone. Food, dresses, perfume and accessories gifted, if not loans and cash advanced. It seems chap was without family; owned numbers of top brand wrist watches (six to be precise). You know how much?... In those murky depths, an ignoramus was always at sea. Thousand dollars seemed like a good under-estimation here for our purposes. NO!..., Jamaal countered. One hundred and fifty thousand was more like. Rolex and other less well-known involved. A kind of father-son relationship established, it seemed. Once the man asked Jamal what he might like. Jamaal not 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 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 mere 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 one might 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. $150k watch gone begging. Never mind. Others in the circle had gotten their pieces; Jamaal who had equal claim missed out by a whisker. But never mind. Thirty-five or perhaps forty minutes. Later Cha 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 Cha a little trouble that morning. Not on terms with big Jamaal the dart-player with the flourishing dyed moustaches, Cha had sat quietly a couple of chairs off. Some of the vocab had stumped Cha that morning in the news-stories of Today. Cha in possession of good English, but not of such an order as might stretch to the lengths of "valedictory" and "conscientiousness" and “reckless delinquency”. There were one or two others before Cha 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 from the side. 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 on the island nation.
minor revision Sept23
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