Feels a Bit Like Home (Orthodox Christmas Lunch, SG)

Home turf Komala V. after three months of breakfasts at the equivalent Muthu on Jalan Trus, Straight Road Johor Bahru. Comparisons are invidious, no need for them. But good to return to the familiar surrounds here. Some curtaining of the kitchen, a new aircon unit in the first room. Shanmug was relocated around at the Racecourse Road outlet, one of the three run by this branch of the Komala family. A pity. Mug was always a fine presence. The gracious Chinese plate-collector who replaced his gracious compatriot in the same function warm and delightful as ever, yesterday on the first reappearance and today the same. The other fellow wore his Buddhism on the outside of his person with jade bracelet and shaved head; his replacement inside, if it was indeed the Buddhism that shone in him so bright. Chap today recalled the rasam container and its cutlery ought not be cleared immediately after it was consumed. The fork and spoon would be needed for the main, right?... Ah yes, indeed. Too right. In all likelihood the man instinctively understood the ruling standpoint too: washing one set of cutlery and then one more, the water, detergent and labour, what sense was there in that? Wise choice of the rasam was always acknowledged by the man, thumbs up, do you a power of good…. No doubt the chap saw the uppuma and pongal platters wiped clean every meal. Waste not; want not. Up in the valleys of Heilongjiang Province or the like the same values held; chap recognized a kindred soul never mind the lack of a single mutual word almost. Ni hao, sje sje, zhai tzien. Soon there would be occasion to greet the New Year, Gong xi fa cai — the spelling needed to be recalled each year anew. Doubtful whether for him there would be either hangpao or a day off; that would come on one of the Hindu festivals. Last night at Al Wadi the scene was brightened by a couple of Gansu men with whom Cabbie Cha the convert could communicate quite smoothly. One a dead-set Arab throw him into any Middle-Eastern country he would be welcome; the other inter-mixed, telling features quite distinct from the Han, Cha declared. There had been a group the last week visiting, Cha reported; that was how he knew they were not Urumqi. Where was Gansu on the map again? Cha had likewise forgotten; he needed to check. It was not up at Xingjian Cha thought, though the two were oppressed by the authorities just the same. Conflicted was Cha: the Cabbie could not help feeling pride at the advance and accomplishments of his ancestral home, all its rich history and culture. And so far as that went the great Setan remained the same for the Muslim convert as for the Han scion. But the regime was no good on the score of the Muslim minorities, Tibet too. Next week Cha's elder brother will visit from Perth, Australia. A football coach in this case, well settled somewhere outside the State capital some fifteen years and more. There was another divide now between the pair as elder brother had converted to Christianity. Cha was keen to introduce him to his Australian friend.