Australian writer of Montenegrin descent en route to a polyglot European port at the head of the Adriatic mid-2011 shipwrecks instead on the SE Asian Equator. 12, 36, 48…80, 90++ months passage out awaited. Scribble all the while. By some process stranger than fiction, a role as an interpreter of Islam develops; Buddhism & even Hinduism. (Long story.)
Sunday, November 5, 2017
Valuable News
Golly! When one thinks it out properly has to be 600 - 700, even possibly 800 paces through those tiled halls alone for the newspaper, rough guess. No need invest in the biometric gadget. Counting from the East entryway and mostly walking up the escalator, Permisi! hand held out in front for indicator and sometimes dropped shoulder for the aged most particularly, as one has been taught here. The traffic attendants with their table tennis rackets were left untroubled, operatic doormen receiving apologetic thanks in passing, — Kind of you boys. Quite the case now no survey whatever of the girls going by — the mall and its fit-out crushes all that completely and utterly, not the merest skerrick remaining. In the midst of all the faux-eroticised merchandising with its gaudy colouration, the entirely reverse effect. Cruel to put the poor darlings off balance and to the sword of course beneath the eye of the White panama too. All the expensive get-up, tailoring and heels fails to overwhelm that critical, destructive scrutiny. At Grand Indo in a hat like that the man might easily be a movie star, notable fashion photographer or rocker from the foundation era. After all, how often on the street was one mistaken for John Travolta no less (in his heyday presumably), and less flatteringly Mr. Bean? Three gen. passing bunched close together over the plaza at Thamrin City footing over this morning were quietly slayed by the vision. Grannie's pointing out had been missed by the mere fraction of a second, her shoulder caught in retraction and humble, warm and approving smile fully blossomed over her face, scarf unable to hide. The daughter may have been bare-headed, and most certainly the tiny tot between the pair could not hide her abashment looking out as if from an inadequate thicket. Arrived from the kampung shopping in the capital, perhaps lunch at one of the eateries before returning on the afternoon bus; the oldie would have something to report. More often than not a single item in the paper was sufficient, two or three utmost. Usually the matter could be read at a glance: the oligarchs and political elite were steadily clawing back after the reversal of the democratic people's president, still riding high in the opinion polls and soon to marry off his daughter in his usual, modest style. Jakartan governorship was now restored (Christian/Chinese Ahok jailed), SBY scion preparing for a proper tilt in 2019 and Megawati's daughter no doubt canvassing the numbers across the archipelago. The day previous a summary of the unsolved murders of journalists in the last decade tallied near a dozen. There was less need of cunning and subterfuge here. Some Sriwijaya potted history today attempting to recollect the portion of the English reading public to the old harmony of the previous era a millennium and more past.
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