French film week and rambutan

Went to the first of the French film week films, a delightful comical light touch to an Agatha Christie murder mystery with the title, Crime is Our Business

WL was here for two days. I haven’t seen him since he left for Canada in 1974. He was one of the early political prisoners, interned by the British under the predecessor of the ISA on St John’s Island in 1951.A very brave man. When he set up his clinic in KL gangsters demanded protection money. He refused. They smashed his glass front and did the same on the second refusal. They found this guy too tough and left him alone.

The old rambutan tree, probably planted by the first owner in 1962 and cut down some ten years ago when the trunk had gained the mature girth of a coconut tree. It had put out fresh branches which formed a screen between us and next door when we came and is now producing fruit, not as prolific as when it was young but more than we can consume. Its super iar bar (coconut meat) and no loot k’ark (clean peeling) shows that the man who planted it knew his rambutan well.

Tat Thong’s grandson, from Hong Kong, visited and brought us a box of Wife Biscuit, a round thing containing lotus seed paste. Delicious! In return we gave him some mangosteens and some of our super rambutans. He has never eaten mangosteen in his life.

SC came and we went to a new Thai place called The Thai Garden run by a woman from north Thailand and married toa Pole. Adeline joined us at 11 pm and we showed her and SC the heartbreaking “Running” (about the cruel plight of Myanmar refugees here made by Suaram, the human rights organisation) and first three chapters of Water Margin only, because it was already 2 am. Adeline brought a bottle of 15 yr old Grouse whisky. I told SC about the “White Tiger”, which she borrowed.

Meeting an old friend from Ipoh, a first generation from a pioneer immigrant tin miner, I was not surprised to find that his reaction to my saying that the UN found China as one of the biggest exporters of Chinese women for sale. His reaction: that’s very small compared to the huge population. His reaction to the news that three woman had committed suicide because they had no food: they always like to take their children with them when they go. (In fact they were Indian women all over 40 years old). No pity at all, although a devout Catholic. Was that typical of this country? Seems so, if we take the audience at the filming of “Running”. At comment time, no one spoke sympathetically or with pity although they were young and “liberal” folk: Questions like “how do you know how many are criminals?” “Why don’t they take it up with Burma” suggested hard heartedness form the floor that I couldnt tolerate. SO I made a long comment on how Austria looked after 3 million refugees after the war when they themselves were short of food and how cruel we were in treating these people though we were a mixture of Buddhism, Christianity and Islam Hadari. It was clear from the floor that, that we are still sick with mahathirism, reflecting his infamous battle cry: “Shoot the boat people!”.

Rummaging through the CD’s at the music shop I was delighted to see a collection of Julius Katchen ( I had been hoping they would do his Brahms Works of which I have the complete LPs but alas this is the only one I found consisting of a collection of works by various composers. From the accompanying booklet I learnt that this great pianist died when only 42 of a mysterious illness and was American (I’d always thought he was Hungarian for some reason) I listened to his playing of Rorem’s Sonata No 2 and was swept off my feet by the Tarantella. The gentle Nocturne was dedicated to Billie Holiday. The Tarantella and Balakirev’s Islamey, on the same CD, truly show off the piano’s grand range of sound, as Chopin does.

Dandin: Tales of the Princes. Written 1300 years ago in sanskrit this is now available in Penguin classics. Great stories which show a different culture from the Greeks and the Chinese.

You will find Darwin’s Origin of Species fun. I will extract a few stories from his letters which are as exciting as cowboy stories.

After a night of heavy rain I went to the computer ad found it rather cold. I looked at the thermometer, it was 86F! Shiver!!!! But it’s hot again and we are being fried alive.