First though, a note of welcome: I’ve heard through the grapevine that many friends of friends and co-workers of friends are receiving this post via forwarded emails. Welcome my virtual pals! Make a comment to the blog site if you’re in the mood.
Answer to Last Week's Challenge Question
Paul Pelletier, our friend and trainer extraordinaire, submitted the most prompt answer – “It is called a wet market because they wash the floors every morning [with hoses]. They are also called ‘wet market’ in the Philippines, Guam and a few other places I have been.” However, my dad’s wife Sissel also emailed a week later with this, which is also true – “maybe they keep spraying the vegetables and the fruit with water, hence the wet market.”
Paul Pelletier, our friend and trainer extraordinaire, submitted the most prompt answer – “It is called a wet market because they wash the floors every morning [with hoses]. They are also called ‘wet market’ in the Philippines, Guam and a few other places I have been.” However, my dad’s wife Sissel also emailed a week later with this, which is also true – “maybe they keep spraying the vegetables and the fruit with water, hence the wet market.”
Either way, when you go to the wet market, you have to get used to the concrete floor being wet and occasionally slick. Good job to both of you! You each get a goodie from Southeast Asia when I see you next.
Next Challenge Question
Occasionally as I’m walking through town, I see a side entrance to a building with a few rules or warnings posted such as “No loitering” or “Watch for motorbikes” etc. One phrase I have seen is “No Naked Light.” What does that mean?
(Anyone is allowed to participate in this one, even if you live on Desert Trumpet Road. Note: to win your prize, you must post your answer to the blog!)
Parting Thought
I had an odd realization as I waited in Singapore yesterday for my flight back to Penang (Ton had caught a flight to Tokyo earlier). As many of us do when lingering around an airport – annoyed by our heavy awkward bags even though we swore we were going to pack light and cranky about our empty stomachs because the flight overlaps with the dinner hour yet there’s really not enough time to grab some food, I thought “I can’t wait to get home.” And it sort of shocked me to realize that I was thinking of Penang. Just six weeks on the ground and I already was viewing our condo on Persiaran Gurney (Gurney Drive) as my true ‘hood.
And while certain stresses in Penang exist, like addresses that are impossible to find as you navigate roads filled with kamikaze motorbikes and water bottles that are impossible to twist open due to a sweating condensation that makes them so slippery they violently shoot through your hands and slam onto the floor, I realized for the first time what an affection I’ve developed for our little patch of Southeast Asia.
And how I like seeing the security guards smile and wave at us as we drive in or leave for an outing,
and how I dig that the Asian horse statue I bought at an antique shop greets me as I open my condo door,
and how I find the little patch of ocean I can see from my bedroom grounding and soothing for a reason I can’t really name,
and how the array of colored city lights I see out the windows when I go to bed at night causes me to close my eyes with a smile on my face.
And of course, how I like having the freshest produce I could ask for at my fingertips every morning at the wet market.
With that thought, I sign off.
Below are a few shots from around the neighborhood. The couple on the rocks were seated right across the street from my building, checking their laptop while facing the strait between the island and the mainland. The one of Ton and I is taken at a favorite Indian spot right around the corner from our pad - brunch there is to die for. The road picture is just down the street from our building at sunset after a storm had moved through.
