Macha Hair
I brought Kenric to an Indian barber shop near the market. The two barbers asked if we want to use the machine (electric razor). We shrugged and I said, “Give him a Buntong style.” I instantly wondered if I should have said that because the other barber is bald and Kenric’s barber has a “cool” hairstyle. A few minutes later, a distant relative happened to walk in for a haircut. I introduced him to Kenric. We started chatting and before I knew it, the haircut and beard trim were done, and my boyfriend looks like a cool Macha (what we used to call Indian guys in the market who were friendly or brotherly).
Then, we walked to the market to eat at a kanji stall that opens only in the evening. Kanji is congee, aka rice porridge. The stall is only three stalls away from our coffee stall. I’ve been meaning to take Kenric there to say hi to the nice couple who runs it. On our way, a kuih-muih vendor, who I’ve known since I was four, called out to me. We chatted and she gave us a few pieces as treats.
Ipoh Chinese Delicacy
The moment we turned the corner, I yelled for the congee guy, “Ah Yuen!” He recognized me immediately. We ordered two bowls of pork congee and they were super delicious. That’s why I often see his congee featured on Ipoh food-related Facebook pages and why I often tell my Filipino coworker about this Ipoh Chinese delicacy – especially when topped with crispy fried pork intestines. I told him that I’ve commented a few times on those Facebook posts about how good his congee is. He was happy to hear that. Kenric said the kanji is one of the best things he’s ever had. He’s amazed that rice cooked with a lot of water and some pork innards can taste so good. Then again, how offal can it be?! I’m taking him there again tomorrow for Valentine’s Day. He’s totally worth his bowl of RM 5 (USD $1.27) delicious kanji.
Market Strays Need to Eat Too
I went to a sundry shop to get some pet food. The store owner who, you guessed it, I’ve known since I was four asked how many dogs I have. I said the food was just for the strays. She immediately started complaining about how her husband would spend RM 10 (about USD $2.50) on a container of Economy Rice (white rice topped with a different dishes), eat only a few spoonfuls and give the rest to the stray dogs every day, and how he would buy few pieces of pineapple, take a few bites and toss them to the stray dogs all the time. I thought her husband had passed away. Now, I want him to live forever.
Back in the food section, I split up the can of cat food among four cats, and the three cans of dog food among, at least six dogs. The dogs were very skittish. I’m sure there are quite a few assholes that hit and kick them. At one point, as I was raising my hand to wipe the sweat on my forehead, the dog ran away. There’s a friendly cat that Kenric kept scratching, and there’s a black dog that followed me around, licking my legs and was playfully biting my shirt tail. I had to wait every few steps because he had to stop to scratch. He followed me to the big-lidless-disgusting-stinking-to-the-high-heavens dumpster where I left the empty cans, but I didn’t wait for him while I practically ran away from that gawd-awful gigantic pile of hellish mess. I’ve always hated that dumpster and it has gotten worse. Mad respect for the city workers who empty that bottomless stench abyss.
More Familiar Faces
I heard the voice of a guy who, yep, since I was four, was ordering kanji to go. I yelled out his nickname before I even laid eyes on him. It was him. The kanji guy asked if I recognized one of the other customers. Turns out, it was Ah Toot. He was a regular customer (meaning daily) and also the younger brother of a schoolmate. His sister is now in Australia. I attempted to pay for his kanji, but he had already paid. He used to ride his bicycle to the market, then he got his motorbike license, and today, he left in a car. In a city of about 700,000 people, it sure felt like I know a lot of them this evening.