Rituals Of Departure

17.10

We're on our way again, Melaka bound for a Saturday night at Mak's house, with late night teh tarik at Aziz's place as an enticing possibility. Packing is a finely-honed routine, always involving, even on a very transient visit like this one, at least a hint of melancholy. I still take the two batteries out of the torch we bought over a decade ago when we first moved in, and the torch remains at Noi's bedside for no better reason than the fact that it's where it's always been. The keys for internal doors (always the same four out of all the many we have - for some reason we never open the french windows next to the main door) still go back into the plastic key-box which I'll soon be placing in the cupboard under the stairs - the one the girls used as their ghost room in earlier days. I still bring in the main rubbish bin, suitably cleaned, to rest in its position on a single sheet of the Straits Times in the kitchen.

I suppose there's a need for ceremony in all things.

23.25

The teh and sup and prata at Aziz's eatery did not disappoint, and Noi enjoyed herself nattering to Wati and Wan and getting up-to-date on matters concerning the household at Sungai Petai. I just enjoyed being well away from the beaten track in the quiet of the Malaysian night.