The end of the list

Reuben and I are thoroughly enjoying our new place. We're just now starting to reconnect with people here and consider exactly what we'll be doing for the next year. In the meantime, I have been keeping Reuben the chauffeur busy taking me around to hardware stores, the fabric store, and various other destinations to get what I need to make this little place perfect. I admit, it's kind of aggravating not to have a JoAnns or a Michaels as a one-stop-shop. But little by little, I've been collecting fabric, paints, picture frames, glass bottles, that will turn into my next craft projects. The last thing I need? Reuben's converter that he left in KL. I brought my glue gun with me and it's the only electronic appliance we have that doesn't auto convert to 220V. So much of my crafting will have to wait until we go head back to the big city.

Today we went to Little India to stock up on bulk foods. It's probably questionable how fresh these foods are, but judging by how packed the stores always are, I think they go through their stock pretty fast. We came away with loads of dried chickpeas and black beans, cloves and cinnamon sticks, curry mixes, Iranian dates and prunes (can't get those in the US!), and the most deliciously plump California raisins I've ever seen in my life. They will not last long in our home.





The quality of these pictures is crappy because I've stopped carrying my camera around most places (even the compact one) and have started using my phone. I think it's a little more discreet, but people assume anyway in places like this that I am a tourist. And because of the way Reuben dresses and his apparently askew Malaysian accent, they think he is on holiday as well. Today was no exception. All I wanted was someone to get me a kilo of chickpeas, but the store clerks were asking me where I am from and whether I've eaten ("suda makan", or have you eaten, is the go-to small-talk after "hello.") "I'm from America and yes I have eaten and I would like a kilo of black beans".

I get asked questions a lot. Sometimes they ask me my name and after I tell them, they give me a blank stare (just as I give a blank stare to the Chinese when they tell me their name, such as yesterday when a man told me his name is "Ooi"). The stare continues until a person occasionally says, "OOHH, like Erin Brockovich!". I can't tell you how many times I've gotten that, and I bet those people will never forget my name because of it. I've also been called "demi moore", hopefully not in reference to Striptease.