Khmer New Year Games

 

In honor of Khmer New Year, the biggest holiday of the Cambodian calendar celebrated from April 14-16^th, I wanted to share a little bit about some of the traditions and activities associated with this holiday. Typically, Khmer families use this time to go home to the village their family is from. Students in Thailand and Vietnam make the long trip back across the border; sons, daughters, nieces, and nephews living in the city pack up their rice cookers and clothes for a trip to the homeland. Khmer New Year is all about family, food, and celebrating the New Year.

One of the time-honored traditions of Khmer New Year is the playing of traditional games. Usually these are played at the temple or another common community space. This year I had the pleasure to learn about a variety of these games from my students and counterparts in the waning days of March, during this lost week before our semester tests where many teachers weren't teaching but students still had to come. To fill the time, the students began bringing the accouterments necessary for a variety of traditional games and played whenever teachers weren't teaching. Needless to say, it didn't take much convincing for me to join them.

1. Dung Dam Sluck Chu (Steal the Branch)

For this game, players are split into two groups. Typically, this is done girls on one side and boys on the other, but it can be mixed as well. You want two equal groups with one person not in a group; that person will be the caller. Then, each person is given a number (1,2,3....) on one side and then the numbers start from the beginning on the other side. So, one person on each side is number one, one person on each is number 2, etc... Each team stands facing each other a good distance apart, and a line is drawn in front of each group. A circle is drawn in the middle of the two groups.

The caller takes a tree branch, simultaneously putting it into the circle and yelling a number. Those two people run towards the branch. Once one person touches the branch and lifts it off the ground or out of the circle, the other person can tag her. If that other person tags her, the other person's team wins. If she can grab the branch and run with it past her team's line without being tagged, she wins. Usually one person runs to grab the branch quickly and then slows down and waits for an opportunity to run.

If two people are at a draw and nothing is happening, the caller can yell another number and allow two more people run and help. There is definitely a lot of strategy in this game including positioning your body to block the path of your opponent and distracting your opponent so you can run. 

2. Reeuoo Baong Kong (Catching Prawns)

In this game, you need a scarf or something to blindfold the catcher. The game starts with one person (the catcher) blindfolded. The other players make a circle holding hands around the catcher. Once the catcher is blindfolded and in the middle of the circle, spin the catcher around so he is a little disoriented. Then the people in the circle start to rotate around the catcher, moving faster and slower and making the circle bigger and smaller. The catcher tries to catch one person in the circle. When the catcher has someone, the catcher tries to guess who the person is by touching the person's hair, face arms, etc. If the catcher guesses correctly, then the person that was caught becomes the catcher. 

3. Pongrut Goo (Switching Partners)

For this game, choose one pair of players to start as “it” while the other players form a circle and hold hands. The pair that is “it” walks around the outside of the circle, holding hands as well. When the pair reaches a pair in the circle they want to tag, they hit the conjoined hands of that pair. Once they hit the new pair's hands, each pair must run around the circle; one pair runs clockwise around the circle, and the other counterclockwise. When the two pairs meet on the other side of the circle, the four players must switch partners and run back to the empty spot in the circle. Whichever pair doesn't make it back to the open spot in the circle becomes the “it” pair.

4. Bos Ongkunh (Throw Ongkunh)

Ongkunh is a type of vine grown in Cambodia (mainly in Stung Treng and Kratie provinces). It has a large stem and fruit. Each fruit has several seeds that are circular, flat and a couple inches in diameter. As the fruit ripens, the seed becomes hard,smooth and turn a dark brown color. The seeds are used to play this game. I am not sure where our seeds came from, but they had a large bag of them that the different classes passed around.. 

To start, the players need to be split into two groups; again, normally this is done with girls on one team and boys on the other, but it is not necessary. One group stands the seeds up on the ground in a formation that looks like this:

X		X
	X
X		X

The other group stands opposite and a few meters back from the seeds on the ground. Each person in this group should have three stones to throw. The objective is for the group that is throwing to throw the seeds and to knock over the seeds at the corners, not the one in the middle, as a group. Each person gets their three tries. If they fail to knock over all four corners, they lose; if they hit the middle seed, they also lose. However if they do knock down all the corners, they win.

To me, the most interesting part of this game is what happens when you win or lose. If your team is the winner, you take two of the seeds and use them to hit the members of the losing team on the knee. There is a very specific way to do the hitting, which I couldn't quite get the hang of. When you do the hit, you should hear the sound of the two seeds hitting each other; if you fail to produce this sound, that person can take your seeds and hit you in the knee. This all leads to a lot of harmless teasing and complaining, especially when the teams are split by gender.

 

 

5. Leak Kanseng (Hiding the Scarf)

For this game, you need a scarf or a length of cloth twisted into a rope. All the players expect for one (the person who is "it") sit in a circle; usually when players sit in the circle, they alternate boy, girl. The player that is "it" takes the scarf and walks around the outside of the circle as everyone sings a song. The words are "Leak Kanseng Chma Kham Kaeng OsLorng OsLogn" (hiding the scarf, the cat bites the angel, dragging your feet away). As the player goes around, she can tap the people on the back with the scarf. Once she chooses someone, she drops the scarf next to the person. The chosen player grabs the scarf, stands up, and tries to hit the "it" player. The "it" player runs around the circle and to the open space in the circle, trying to avoid being hit.

Others:

Tug of War
 

This game follows the same rules and format of Tug of War in the US. Again, the two teams are usually split by gender, and it is always a good time when the girls beat the boys!

 







Jump Rope

The rope used for Tug of War was also used to play jump rope. I haven't done that in a long time, but it was fun to use some of those old songs and rhymes... “Cinderella dressed in yella went upstairs to kiss a fella...”

The Definition of Success

After three quick days of language and culture training, we were shipped off to the host families we would be staying with for the duration of our training. As the car pulled up to my new house, I could feel the butterflies swirling in my stomach. How was I supposed to talk to these people? I was used to being a talkative, outgoing person, but I could only say two sentences in Khmer. What would they be like? Would they like me?

I walked up to the house and was introduced to my host mother, father and younger sister. Everyone's eyes came to rest on me as I awkwardly pressed my hands together in the traditional Khmer greeting and barely managed to stutter out my name in Khmer. My Khmer Language and Cultural Facilitator (LCF) swept me into the house and showed me the bathroom, the kitchen, and my room in quick succession. After asking if I had any questions, he rushed out of the house to deliver the next volunteer to her awaiting family; I clearly remember the pause as he left the room. My family and I stared at each other as we tried to figure out what to do next. I had already exhausted all my Khmer and my family didn't know any English, so more conversation was not an option.

Luckily, my family moved on to practical matters and began to help me set up my mosquito net. Once finished, my host mom and dad drifted out of the room, leaving my younger sister to watch as I opened my suitcases that contained the trappings of my life. From these suitcases, my books, clothes, and toiletries tumbled out. I reached in and pulled out a photo album my mom had made me to show my new Khmer family and friends. Opening it, I showed it to my sister, explaining who everyone was and what my life was like in America.

And all of a sudden... it hit me.

Like an unexpected rush of wind from a passing semi-truck, like a mid-afternoon rainstorm during the wet season, it struck with a suddenness and vengeance that surprised me.

I was crying... and I couldn't stop. All of the emotion that had been bottled up since the moment I accepted my invitation came pouring out. My host sister was mortified. Only babies cry; as my host sister later told me, in Cambodia that is how you differentiate between a baby and a toddler. Needless to say, my host sister had no idea what to do. She tentatively patted my back and tried to console me while yelling for my host mom to come help. My host mom hurried in, thinking I had died on my first night in her home. She took in the situation and did something I never would have expected given my recently-acquired Khmer cultural knowledge.

She hugged me. She wrapped me in her arms and patted my back murmuring, “Stop, stop, stop.”

In my emotional state, the only thing I could remember to say in my new language was mother. “Mom, my mom, miss mom.”

“Stop crying, I am your mother now,” she replied. Eventually, I stopped crying as she continued to calm me. It was at that moment that I knew I was actually in the Peace Corps, and things were about to change.

____________________________________________________________________________

Someone recently asked me if I felt my time in Cambodia had been successful.

My first thought on hearing that was, how do we determine success? In number of bathrooms built at the local primary school? In students taught the ABCs? In number of new mothers educated about breastfeeding? While doing my needs assessments for my community where I would be working for the next two years, I quickly realized I wouldn't be able to point to something and say “That's what I did. That's what I built.” My community had infrastructure covered; they didn't need a library or bathrooms. So, I was faced with the question: without those typical markers of success, how can I justify my feeling that I have in fact been successful thus far?

Peace Corps and the concept of success is a tricky thing. Any Peace Corps Volunteer, past or present, knows the three goals of Peace Corps. One, to help the people of interested countries in meeting their needs for trained men and women. Two, to help promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the people served. And three, to help promote a better understand of other peoples on the part of Americans. As Peace Corps Volunteers, we don't arrive in country with the stated purpose of building some physical structure; we may help in the construction of libraries, bathrooms, or sports courts, but that isn't our mission. Our true job is less tangible, but equally (if not more) important. Our true job is to connect, communicate, understand, empower, support... and these things cannot easily be measured.

Despite our American desire to measure success, to quantify and logically justify our experience for ourselves or for others, serving in the Peace Corps is an intensely personal, unique, and non-quantifiable experience. In truth, no one can decide if you succeeded but you. As this became clear to me, as someone used to checklists, to clearly defined goals and objectives, to “do A and B will follow”, the ideas was quite frankly terrifying.

As I started to think about my definition of success, I kept thinking about my emotional episode the night I met my training host family. While it isn't a moment I would have initially categorized as successful, it was. It was a moment where I was vulnerable and a human connection between two people and two cultures was formed. That is success. To paraphrase someone famous, “I can't define it, but I know it when I see it.” I might not be able to define what success in my service is, but I know it when I see it.

I see success when I bond with my students about missing my family, just like they do sometimes. I see it when I share in the joy of a wedding or in the sorrow of a relative passing. I see success when my sisters and cousins have a living example of a strong woman working in the world, a woman more concerned about her education and career than about her weight or skin color. I see it when my students, who will be primary school teachers when they graduate, have a teacher role model that doesn't miss class and comes on time with a smile. I see it when my counterparts feel encouraged to practice their English despite pronunciation or grammar mistakes.

In my service thus far, the thing I am most proud of is my courage in re-defining what success during my service looks like. Before Peace Corps, I would have insisted on a quantified, step-by-step definition of success. If I reached this destination, I would be successful; there is something comforting in this formulaic approach. For me, success during service is now a little vague. Typically, the clearer goals and objectives are, the better. However, my new definition of success lives and thrives in this ambiguity. This new definition doesn't tie me to infrastructure, number of people reached, or even knowledge passed on. It allows things like crying in front of your host mom to be a success. It's about messy, non-quantifiable things: people, connections, and understanding.

So, what is success for me? When I am on the plane home, how will I know if I succeeded? When people ask me about my time in Cambodia, how will I justify my experience here?

I'm not sure yet, but I'll let you know when I see it.

(Tremendously Unhelpful) Recipe for Cha

"Cha" meaning "fried" or "stir fried" (depending on who you ask) is a popular dish in Cambodia. There is mee cha (stir fried noodles), bai cha (stir fried rice), or bonlai cha (stir fried vegetables), just to name a few varieties.

My host family makes me cha often, especially when the rest of the family is having something I don't like to eat; I've tried pretty much everything they have ever put in front of me (twice like Andrew Zimmerman), but there are definitely dishes I don't care for.

So, my bong sray taught me how to make cha recently, and I thought I would share the recipe with you. However, this will be unhelpful if you actually want to make it. I wanted to take a more artistic, free form approach to it... well you'll see.

*Disclaimer: If you do want a real recipe, I can send you it. Although it is ridiculously easy, so you could probably figure it out.

General Stir Fry Recipe

1. Gather your ingredients. You can use almost any meat, whatever you have in the fridge. Don't have meat or vegetarian? Go with tofu or just veggies. Same goes with vegetables. Use those leftover bits from the somlaw (soup) you made yesterday. Choose whatever is cheapest at the market today. Use cabbage, cucumbers, carrots, or.... any other vegetable that doesn't start with a "c". Dealer's choice!

2. Get your small camp stove from under the shelves or make a fire in your stove, and add some minced cloves of garlic and a glug of oil to it. A lot of Khmer cooking starts with frying the garlic, and as a garlic devotee, I am all about it.

3.  Once that "lan krahom (turns red, but really means turns golden brown), put in your meat. The meat is usually cut into small, thin pieces to make them easier to fry. Be careful; the oil might pop and sizzle!

4. As that starts to cook, add the other key to Khmer cooking, fish sauce. Take your spatula and pour a pool of it onto your spatula; this cool trick allows you to better gauge how much you are putting in rather than if you just poured it into the pan. Continue to fry.

5. Add sugar (one small plastic soup spoonful), salt (a bit or not at all), pepper (half of said spoon), and MSG (half of the green tiny spoon in the jar). This mix of spices is like the mirepoix of Khmer cooking; it goes in everything.

6.  Cover the pan with a lid and let it cook until the meat is mostly cooked (or how long it takes you to sew a line or two on your sewing machine).

7. While you are doing steps #1-6, have your young children or resident barrang (foreigner) cut up the vegetables into small pieces. Try to make them all the same size more or less, separating leaves and tougher, harder stalks/vegetables based on their cooking times. Have said children or barrang wash the vegetables at least two times in the sink or from water in the cistern.

8. Add the vegetables to your pan in order of how long they will take to cook. So, start with carrots or fibrous stalks of cabbage and work your way up to lettuce. Cover again until vegetables are cooked. While that is cooking, make sure to check the rice and ensure it's cooked through.

9. Dish it up, roll out the mat, and enjoy!

One year of...

One year of eating, eating bowls of rice, rice, and more rice

mangoes, elephant apples, and the rich man's fruit, 

fried bananas and shrimp chips. Eat more, eat more.

One year of watching, watching body language and actions 

so much more striking when there are no words to hear. 

An arm grab, a cheek pinch, hands pressed together in greeting.

One year of meeting, meeting up so many people it's hard to keep them straight. 

Some become friends, some become family, and some

 you never see again.

One year of thinking, thinking before speaking in a new way, 

not quite knowing how to say it, express it.

The word sometimes flowing, but most times not.

One year of acquiring, acquiring new habits and manners.

Eat with a spoon in your right hand, wear long sleeves to protect your skin. 

Sit the Wat sit and try not to fidget too much.

One year of growing, growing into a slightly different person 

so slowly and carefully it's hard to see. 

Simultaneously more confident and less about my place in the world.

One year of teaching, teaching about a language and culture I can't fully explain. 

Teacher, why is it like that? Why do you do that? 

I don't know. It just is, I just do.

One year of learning, learning about Cambodia, its people, religion and culture. 

But why is it like that? I ask, out loud and in my head. 

I don't know. It just is, we just do.

One year of answering, answering questions both mundane and profound. 

Have you eaten rice already? Where are you from? 

Tell me, where are you going? Do you miss home?

One year of questioning, questioning others, but mostly myself. 

What is that? How do I do this? 

But really, why am I here? Where am I going?

One year of trying, trying harder than I ever have before. 

New food, new customs, new ways of thinking and living. 

Trying to eat, speak, survive, live and...

thrive.

Malaysia Re-cap: KL, Malacca, and Penang

Finally, several weeks after the fact, here is a quick summary of my trip to Malaysia and my impressions, thoughts, feelings, ramblings on my trip:

1. Kuala Lumpur:

Batu Caves

Iconic KL building, Petronas Twin Towers

I started the trip with the flight from Phnom Penh to Kuala Lumpur, which was the first time I had left Cambodia since arriving about nine months before. Luckily, a fellow PCV had a long layover in Kuala Lumpur before heading to Australia, so I had a travel partner for my first day in country. We went to the Batu caves which turned out to be a great way to start the trip. After a quick stop at McDonald's, we caught a commuter train out to the caves. The golden statue towered over the small plaza in the front where we stood, making me feel quite small. As we walked up all those steps, I quickly rethought any claims fitness I had made before. Inside the caves were several shrines and statues, but the area was undergoing renovation at the time and so most things were closed. After that, we explored more of the city, quickly realizing that it was a city made for cars as opposed to walking. I imagine this is what it is like trying to get around most US cities without a car. Towards the end the day, I sent my travel partner on his way, and I went to my hostel in Chinatown. 

One of the most famous buildings in KL,
originally a British administration building

Malaysia's national religion is Islam.
Above, the National Mosque

The next day I started my explorations of Kuala Lumpur, mostly using a hop-on, hop-off bus to get around to the different sites. All in all, I was very impressed with Kuala Lumpur. I hadn't known what to expect; I didn't know much about the city before coming, but I really liked its mixture of new and old. The city is clean, well organized, and has cheap mass transit. Walking out onto the streets, it felt like any major Western city.I hadn't quite realized how used to Cambodia and Phnom Penh I had become until I strolled around Kuala Lumpur. 



2. Malacca

DELICIOUS!!

For the next part of my trip, I took a quick bus to Malacca. Malacca is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and a great example of a preserved port city. I recognize the look from my trip to Valparaiso, Chile and my explorations in the older parts of Buenos Aires, Argentina. The hostel I stayed at was wonderful. It did a great job of fostering a sense of community, particularly by holding bicycle tours of the city. Several ladies staying at my hostel and I followed the owner as we peddled out to the Malacca Straits Mosque, rocking out to music played on portable speakers. It felt like we were in our own parade! Watching the mosque floating over the water as the sunset in the background was… lovely, relaxing and (dare I say it) magical. After rolling back into town, we headed over to a delicious Indian food shack set up on the sidewalk. IT WAS DELICIOUS. Small and unassuming, but full of flavorful food at a great price. I ordered Tandoori chicken, nan, and the biggest fresh squeezed apple juice I've ever seen. Surrounded by people I had just met, full to bursting from eating so much, I had a "this is travel" moment; a reminder of why I choose to travel to new places, explore new cultures, and experience new things.

The next day my new British friend wanted to eat her way through Malacca. Needless to say, I was all about that and joined her We walked around Malacca taking pictures, stopping in random shops, and eating anything and everything we could. I'm going to do an entire post on the food of Malaysia, so I'll save those descriptions for another time. After a day of fun I prepared to catch the night bus from Malacca to Penang. I left around 10:30 PM and get into Penang around 7:30 AM the next morning. 

Malacca Straits Mosque

3. Penang 

Penang has many Chinese clan houses,
which were used as community centers and schools
for newly arrived Chinese immigrants

Some of the street art of Penang

After a long night fitful bus sleep, I made it to Penang Island and took a local bus to Georgetown, which is also a UNESCO World Heritage Site. I found my way to my hostel and luckily they let me leave my stuff there while I went in search of breakfast. They also promised me a bed when I returned, despite check-in time being several hours away. Either they were saints or I just looked that tired after a night on the bus, but I was happy to sink into my bed and rest. Once I had recovered a bit, I headed out to explore the town, eating some more delicious food and confirming the time for the free city tour the next morning. That night I went to my first CouchSurfing event and met some lovely people including a guy from Buenos Aires that was staying at my hostel. A local we met offered to take us to the Penang National Park, the smallest national park in the world, on the weekend, and we readily accepted the offer. The next day my new Argentine friend and I did the city tour, walked around and ate some delicious food. All in all, a good day!

However the best was yet to come. I honestly think my trip to Penang National Park was one of the highlights of my trip. As I mentioned, we got a lift to the park with a local, and we all hiked our way up and down slightly hazardous trails for two hours until we came out of the jungle into… this. 

The beach was beautiful and very quiet when we got there. We brought our lunch and ate it sitting on the beach talking about this, that, and the other. It was a another of those wonderful "travel moments" that highlighted the beauties of traveling alone. After hiking back out, we headed to a large Chinese Buddhist temple perched on a hill overlooking the city. The view was quite lovely! You could see a little slice of the ocean, the tall buildings, and the jungle enveloping the hills. After having dinner together and saying our goodbyes, I headed back to the hostel to pack up and get ready for my flight back the next day. 

Quite a lovely beach and well worth the hike!

The view from one of the temples

So, that was the quick and dirty on my trip. My first completely solo trip went well despite my father's worries. It was fun and exciting; I also learned a lot. A lot about Malaysia and a little about myself... about what I need, how I like to travel, and how to be alone with myself.


And as I said I learned a lot about Malaysia. Kuala Lumpur as well as the other cities I visited had great tours that were usually free in addition to many great museums; I learned a lot about the history, culture, and customs of the country. One thing that specifically stuck out to me was the diversity; Malaysia is known for being quite diverse. It is made up of three major ethnic groups (Malay, Chinese, and Indian), and each group speaks their own language and practices a their own religion but there has been a long tradition of unity in Malaysia and working together despite these differences. They kind of embrace those differences from what I can see and celebrate them rather than trying to make everyone the same. I can tell Kuala Lumpur especially, but also Malaysia as a whole, is doing its best to develop itself and make itself into a world-class city, destination, country. I look forward to seeing what the future has in store for Malaysia.

That's it for now. 

Until next time, 
Carissa 

Khmer New Year

** Yes, these posts are frightfully out of order, but I will post something detailing my Malaysia trip more thoroughly soon. I am currently having computer issues, which makes it hard to post pictures. I think pictures are pretty essential for detailing that trip, so I decided to wait a bit.**

Khmer New Year is the biggest holiday in the Khmer calendar. Just as China, Vietnam, and Thailand have their own individual New Year's celebrations, so too does Cambodia. The holiday is technically only three days long, but everyone starts to make their way back to their families' hometowns much earlier. Big cities like Phnom Penh become deserted, and even my town (small as it is) got a little quieter as people headed to the countryside.

After my trip to Malaysia, I returned home for a few days of rest before packing up food, gifts, and clothes and joining the flow of people to the countryside. We went to my family's farm about an hour from where we live.

 And we were definitely in the countryside. I could hardly get a cell signal, and I lost track of how many small dirt roads we had turned down as we ventured further and further from the main road. When we arrived, we were greeted with smiles and invitations to eat, shower, and rest. I promptly set up my travel hammock (thanks Mom!) and showered. After showering, I ate a quick lunch before happily returning to my hammock and napping under the trees.

 In the afternoon, we drove down the street, stopping at just about every house to smile, catch up, eat, and help prepare for the next day's festivities. Everyone was either a relative or close family friend, and it was fun to see different kinds of houses and to meet so many new people. By the time we got back, other family members had arrived and the house was full to bursting. With so many people, preparing meals and cleaning up after was quite an undertaking but luckily there are plenty of hands to help. Preparing for bed, each couple or family got their own mosquito net, fan, and mat on the floor. We all drifted to sleep, lulled by the sounds of chirping crickets and the generator in use at the neighbor's house.

The next day we got up and got dressed to go to the family shine for the main ancestor offerings. Each smaller unit within the extended family brought gifts for the monks as well as food and other tokens of offering. I sat as gracefully as I could in my Wat sit as the elder members of the family chanted along with the monks. After a fierce battle to keep my legs from falling asleep, we finished and went home for lunch and another nap. We spent the afternoon happily chatting, visiting neighbors, and exploring the fields behind the house. 

The final day we had a small family blessing in the morning over the last of the gifts and food before they were taken to the wat. Several of my family members took me down to the river to bathe and gather water plants to use to make lunch. I hadn't come prepared so I only went in up to my knees to avoid getting my clothes wet, but it was nice to feel the squishy mud between my toes and the cool water on my legs. After lunch we packed up the car, said our goodbyes, and headed towards home (or so I thought). We actually ended up stopping at a bon (a funeral celebration) to pay our respects and meet up with the other side of our family. After eating some rather delicious noodles, we piled back in the car and ended up at a large river flood plain as the sun was setting. It was full of people, vendors, and little huts to relax in. As the kids ran pell-mell into the water, I am ambled behind enjoying the view and watching over some of the more adventurous little ones. 

Our three-day holiday had none of the characteristic wat dancing, powder throwing, or crazy game playing that traditionally accompanies Khmer New Year. Apparently a few years ago there had been some sort of incident, and most of the traditional community celebrations stopped. Either way it was a good holiday-full of family, relaxing, and (as my bong sray put it) "staring at each other's faces." It was definitely a good time, and I appreciate my family allowing me to celebrate with them. 

It's crazy! One Khmer New Year down, one to go! 

Until next time, 

Carissa 

The Beauty of Small Moments

I am going to eventually do a more in-depth post about my trip to Malaysia, but there were a few stand-out moments that I wanted to highlight separately. So, here is the first one... 

From the outside, it was a small and rather unassuming restaurant on a corner on a street in Georgetown. However, it was famous for its char kway teow and Penang laksa. There was a crowd of people trying to get a taste of their renowned food, but not as many as I had expected perhaps due to the rain that was steadily falling. 

And it was into this chaotic scene that I walked. Waiters whisked back and forth between tables, delivering food and making change. Tourists, including myself, wandered around, enviously looking at people eating (and photographing) their food while keeping an eye out for an empty seat. The ordering system wasn't very clear, but luckily a native of Penang swooped in and saved me. After awkwardly asking her how she had ordered and received food, she called over one of the men and ordered for me, translating his questions as he asked them: 

"What do you want?"

"Ummm, whatever you are having" as I pointed at her plate. 

"Do you eat eggs?"

"Do you want prawns?"

"Spicy?"

"Yes.

"Yes."

"No changes. I would like it how it normally comes." 

After that, we started talking as I waited for my food and she finished hers. I learned she works in Singapore but had returned to Penang for a visit, a "self-retreat" as she called it. My food came, and we continued to chat as I ate, quickly consuming the delicious noodles and various add-ins.  

 

I mentioned I had been walking past on the way somewhere else when my rumbling stomach and recognition of the restaurant forced me to turn around and walk into the busy shop. She said it must have been fate that we met, because she doesn't normally eat at this restaurant but had stopped after her friends couldn't meet her for lunch. 

She was an absolutely lovely human being, and I agree. It must have been fate that we met, sat at the same table, and shared a tiny bit of time and ourselves with each other. It's the little human-to-human moments that make traveling so amazing. 

Cheers to spontaneous lunches and unexpected meetings. 

Until later, 

Carissa