LITMIR.BIZ

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almost all run by Malays. Sunday mornings is filled with people and noise, but if you come early you have the entire market to yourself,” she said enthusiastically. “I love coming at dawn and wandering through the stalls with the bustle of the merchants getting ready and the incredible outpour of mixture of fresh fruit before it gets filled with people and fades with other odours. It's like walking through orchards. It reminds me of some parts of my country.”

      You could see in her expression that she really enjoyed those walks.”

      “Sounds really good. Or maybe you're just a great seller. Let’s go! Show me around.”

      We began to wander among the greengrocers on the main streets and the lorong, which is what they call in Malay the side alleys. The houses were the same style like in the Indian neighbourhood, low, two stories and each one a different colour. We stopped in different spots and Sumalee explained to me the different typical fruits of the markets in this area: the longan, white on the inside, looked like a potato, the mango, which I already knew, the mangosteen, sweeter than the mango, and one that caught my attention, the durian, with spikes of greenish colour and the size of a small melon. When cut open it had a yellow pulp.

      “The weird thing about this fruit,” Sumalee said, “is that it has a very strong odour and because of it is prohibited eating it in public transport and hotels to avoid bothering those around. It really smells.” She said putting a piece under my nose which forced me to move away quickly to get away from the smell.

      “Is my nose dirty?”

      “One second,” Sumalee said and pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped me carefully. I couldn’t stop staring at her while she was doing it. “Done.” Her gesture gave me a shiver.

      There were also many stalls with dry fish, frogs, eels. All a Western could expect from an oriental market.

      She was right. It was a relaxing walk with a mixture of sweet aromas that took you back to the countryside. As time passed it was filling up with people, very few of them westerners, and the noises and smells changed, losing all the original charm.

      “So, what else can be done around here?”

      “Depends what you like. To the south is what they call the red-light district of Singapore, like the one in Amsterdam.”

      “No. Thanks. With a woman like you by my side I don’t think I could find anything even remotely similar in the red-light district or even in Singapore. Certainly not in entire Asia.”

      For a moment she stood staring at me without saying anything. I felt as if she was peering into my mind through my eyes. I feared for a moment that I had offended her but said nothing.

      “There are also many temples and Villa Cultural Malaya. A museum where you can see crafts, hear traditional music and taste local cuisine.”

      “Since we are in a Malay area we could go to listen to some traditional music and eat something typical, right? I'm a book tourist. In fact, I read one on the way here.”

      “Deal! Let's go there.”

      With her right hand she took my left and yanked me to follow her. For a moment I squeezed her hand tightly to make sure she was there.

      Shortly, we arrived at the museum. It was a complex of several low buildings with corrugated roofs, very oriental style. Inside there were typical objects and Malay waggons drawn by oxen as samples of crafts and all kinds of information about the culture and the cuisine. There was also a house you could visit, set in the traditional style. You could tell she liked to travel and experience new things besides working in the travel industry, because she looked at everything with the curiosity typical of a child, marvelling and getting excited about everything. I liked the visit, but really, I did not enjoy it as much as she did because I was focused only on the touch of my hand with hers and the fascinated expression on her face. She had an angelic face. I wanted to kiss her so badly!

      When we finished, she said she was going to take me to eat something typical Singaporean and I let her without saying a word. Instead of going to the front door she took me in the back alley and knocked at the kitchen door. She had me intrigued. A big belly man with a dirty apron opened the door screaming angry, but when he saw Sumalee he stopped and went back inside, closing the door with a strong blow. A minute later the door reopened, and a very small girl appeared, who also looked Thai, who jumped into the arms of Sumalee and hugged her. They started talking Thai and then Sumalee motioned me to come over.

      “This is David. David, this is my friend Kai-Mook of which I told you last night. She is also Thai and works in this restaurant. She will prepare something for us.”

      “Nice to meet you. No need to worry, Sumalee didn’t say anything bad about you”, I said smiling.

      “Nice to meet you too. Come in to choose for Swikee.” Her English was not too good.

      “Choose for what?” I looked at Sumalee.

      “Go in and you will see.”

      I followed her into the kitchen and to a place where there was a giant bowl with a lid. Kai-Mook lifted the lid and inside were a dozen frogs leaping, trying to escape the plastic prison.

      “Frogs?” I exclaimed looking at Sumalee.

      “Yes, they are considered a typical delicacy here. They prepare a delicious frog soup, the Swikee.”

      “If you say so... The truth is I have never had it.”

      I was a little hesitant, but I did not want to seem too picky, so I chose the frogs I wanted, the ones that seemed nicer if there is such a thing, and I sat at the table assigned to us, waiting for the food and talking to Sumalee about what we would do next. Shortly, Kai-Mook appeared with a tureen in hand. When she opened it to served us the frog soup, I have to admit that it looked appetizing. With strips of red peppers, something that looked like cilantro, chili and other things that I was not able to identify.

      I started to eat it with a little apprehension, but once I took the first spoon all my fears vanished. It was so tasty. I devoured the rest of the frog greedily. I raised my head and saw that Sumalee was watching me amused.

      “It’s delicious, right?”

      “I must admit, this is a delicacy. I have to bring my friends here. They will be amazed!”

      “I knew you’d like it. The chef of this restaurant prepares the best frog soup in the city. If you come with them ask for Kai-Mook and you will receive special treatment. Now she knows you and she will take care of you as if you were me.”

      I looked into her eyes as she took a breath. I didn’t know what madness I was about to do, but I was going to tell her what I was beginning to feel when Kai-Mook interrupted approaching us to ask how the soup was. I said the same thing as Sumalee, that it was delicious, and she happily went back to the kitchen. The rest of the food was also dishes I was not familiar with, very tasty, but none like the soup. We laughed telling funny stories from our travels.

      When we finished, Kai-Mook gave her a bag. She would not say what it was. She also did not let me pay insisting that it was her day as a guide, and she would take care of the expenses. I grabbed her face and looking at her intently, gave her a soft kiss on the forehead while my fingers caressed her temples. I noticed she trembled, but I did not know whether it was emotion or rejection. The important thing was that she did not pull away. A shiver of excitement ran through my body as I touched her skin. At that moment, I felt an almost uncontrollable desire to throw myself over her and kiss her, but I managed to restrain myself. I not only loved being with her and felt very comfortable, but it excited me greatly.

      We went out into the street. She went straight to a small park on the other side and gave the bag to a woman that looked homeless. The woman took something from inside and I saw it was food. They chatted for a moment as if they had known each other their entire life and then continued on our way.

      “She

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