August 12, 2024 – 5:37 pm
Kept on playing basketball this afternoon with the Filipino sailors. We beat some Americans but I got brutally sunburned. It’s hotter there than in New York in the summer, but despite being trapped in Penang, I’m actually happy to be here. I don’t really know how I’m going to get out of here. Maybe I’ll ask one of the sailors if I can hitch a ride on this ship as a dishwasher. I’ve never gone to sea. At least pot-walloping shouldn’t be too dangerous and I’m sure there’s some ships traveling to Europe from Penang.
I figured out why Julia is really angry at me last week when I came to a resort on Langewai, she was speaking the Giancarlo. And he had informed her but I had rented my apartment to Cassandra his mistress as their love nest. And it was the truth.
Back in 1991.
I didn’t say anything then, because I was trying to make money for myself and I didn’t think she needed to know about his affair. No Lies ever stays alive forever.
After that I really spoke to Giancarlo. I was wrong I should have told her that I shouldn’t even never done it, but you looked at as another betrayal by the people she loved. He was because of not staying with her when she was sick on the island. I was wrong. I guess my name is s*** to them. Hopefully their daughter Alice well forgive me. After all canopy when you can’t forgive yourself. To forgive his human. To forget is divine.
Why don’t lesbians lisp?
August 11, 2024 – 12:21 pm
Sumatra was a lost world in 1990. Tigers prowled the western jungles of Indonesia’s largest island, active volcanoes glowed in the night, and I drank Bintang beer with the ancestors of headhunters on the shore of Lake Toba 1500 meters above the sea and the night air was chilly after months along the equator .
Inside the traditional long houses skulls adorned the main beam of the roof.
Cutting off heads for the Bataks was an ancient tradition, until forbidden by the Dutch government in Java.
Sitting with several men around a fire I realized Jakarta was over a thousand miles away from the highlands. A hundred years ago I might have been a hapless victim of their deadly tradition, but they swore I was safe and the Bataks were renown for being true to their word.
After two weeks on Lake Toba I descended down the slopes to Medan, a Muslim city a little north of equator on the simmering Malacca Straits. The temperature and humidity were both in the 90s. Neither seemed to bother the residents.
That afternoon I booked a flight across the Malacca Straits to Penang in Malaysia.
I arrived there before sunset. I was back in the modern world.
Skyscrapers, telephones, air-conditioning and smooth roads.
I stayed at an old Chinese mansion off Chulia Street. The main travelers’ drag offered good food and old navy bars.
Drinks were cheap.
The women were ugly.
.They liked a good laugh.
The architecture revealed a melting pot of culture.
I loved the call for evening prayers from the mosque.
I drank tuak or palm wine next to the Chinese temple.
The British had left their mark.
Beaches lay the the west.
Durians grew in the jungles.
The city was sleep-walking toward the 21st Century.
But that was then.
Chinese money had woken Penang from the past.
Construction was booming along the coast, as land was reclaimed from the sea.
Only the rich have rights to this dream.
And old Penang will never be old again.
Neither will I.
What a shame.
August 10, 2024 – 10:06 am
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Rod called and said that he had wired the money to Thomas Cook in Bangkok. But that he had to rewire it to the Hong Kong bank in Penang. I went there. Nothing. I have serious doubts you ever sent it, but I’m not mad. By having money is my responsibility. And I’ve known Rob is a little sketchy sometimes and have since 1990 when since we first me in Paris.
Someone once said, “Never trust anyone further than the point at which they can fuck up. After that the blame is all on you.”
I did and I’m stranded on this island city. Finances aside not such a bad place to be stranded. Across the Malacca Straits is Medan. Hot and humid Indonesian City surrounded by a Sumatra swamp. Penang is Paradise in comparison.
The Cabbage Doll backpackers every place whoring soldiers and sailors of the Royal Navy. No prostitutes Hong Kong bar dream of there being young and are happy when I buy the beer. Tonight I’ll go down there and drink to my heart’s content.
Penang is a crossroad of cultures from around the world. Chinese temples, Malay mosques, the muzzeiens calling out the prayer five times a day from dusk to dawn. Tamil Rickshaw drivers offering ‘massage women and dadah, dopw’. Indian Muslims serve plates a black curry over white rice. Cats snuggle against the alley walls. Tuak drunks huddle under the shelter of an Indian Temple. From the cinema whit -skinned Chinese girls exit like vampire beauty into the night, the transvestites on Leith Street, star fruit juice at night. My money well past the point of no return. I sold my typewriter to get enough money to living money a flight. I only have myself to blame for destitution. Could have taken this safe route and just gone to Central America.
Too late for that option
I read a story about two men scamming an Indian woman to strip naked in front of their grandmother. Have a ruse of their telling their suckers saying they needed her breast measurements to get a free apartment.
Just shows the truth of PT Barnum’s adage, “There’s a sucker born every minute.” has lost nothing during the. Population explosion
In the article the reporter rights that the girl was normal but very naive. Quite an understanding. The second time they tried it where the money changer.
The team, a Chinese man and a Hindu. They had real balls to go up to someone’s daughter to be measured.
They got away with it twice and hope they do because the veniality and genius of the ploy. I’ve never heard of it before.
Dirty men.
