Ginger Proper

Warung Teh Sarbat Asli beside the flyover, large mound of ginger being diced as we speak. Two blades going, the owner of the shop in fine white dhoti on the end of one. Unnecessary but nevertheless for the theatre: You are Indian. Where would your Indonesian wife be then? Like a shot the riposte: I have two. Strong alright, knocked out your back teeth and tickled the throat proper after all the tepid teh halias drunk over these many weeks. A month ago a kilometer back up the road under a fine tall tree an Indian impostor with an Indon wife tried to tell the author, Ya, ya, you’ve found the place. Best in JB too right. Awaiting a pause in the percussion…. LAGI! See if you can find that mix one more time, to the woman at the counter. Worth it for the smiles ringing round, venture returned with banjak interest. Tin shed open three sides—carport in all but name. Cracked and broken concrete, backless stools, old patterned plastic sheeting covering knocked-up tables and busy three-way traffic directly adjacent. Another Indon lass serving the grub unable to find the table nevertheless rejected the offer of one ringgit for the plate. In excess of a dozen and half customers mid-afternoon before more still piled in. If one didn’t get a wet arse footing back all would be well and Razali to thank.

NB. The son translated the sarbat razzmatazz as ginger (halia properly), which was a forgivable stretch — sherbet, sherbert, sorbet. (Locals have subsequently advised that in fact this is the usual term for halia in Malaysia.)