I made pickles today. So proud of myself. A tasty treat. No recipe, simply an idea. A morning saunter through the market stalls. Ducking under the low hanging plastics throws strung across for shade. The crimson smiles flashed, signing out a chores. “Mau beli?” (What buy?) and “Ke mana?” (To where?) Children stare. Young and old call “Hello Mister”. Gender unimportant. Never had I made pickles. Never had the thought crossed my mind. But today the pale pudgy cucumbers called out to me. Although not quite as loud as the seller. Really how difficult could pickles be?
Cookies also whispered. Tim Tams… the most delish Australian export. On the walk home, a mob of pre-adolescents wanted to know what I had bought. A chance to practice my language. Cucumbers, bananas, tofu, and cookies. They howled with laughter then told me I was fat. Jerks. I took the long walk back.
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