Berkemban

When enilit and I left for our Redang trip two weeks ago, we bought cheap printed (but fairly nice) “batik” sarungs in the market in Kuala Terengganu, which ended up being really convenient for the beach. Mary, who had a man’s plaid sarung “because it’s bigger”, demonstrated how we could drape them over our heads and lie on the sand during turtle watch.
After a week of trying I still can’t tie a sarung properly, but in an attempt to look cute, I put it on after coming out of the shower. This dialogue with my husband followed:
“The innocent village maiden emerges from the river amid the morning dew.” (Actually I’m urban-raised and it was past midnight.)
“The American imperialist comes to ravish the women and take all the resources!”
“Good luck with that.”
“The women or the resources?”
“I have a bag of Snickers somewhere in this house and you’re never gonna find it!!!”
“The imperialist must turn the natives against each other! I’ll ask your sister where the Snickers is.”
“She doesn’t know either, ha ha.”
Actually they’re in my Crumpler bag and going to work with me to be my desk drawer emergency snacks tomorrow. Too bad for the imperialists.

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