NAPAGLAKAULAKAU

A friend in Java is currently experiencing heat near one hundred degrees Fahrenheit. Which, given his dietary preferences, means omelettes, beans, beer, and cigars. Naturally, I worry about his digestive processes, and wonder if he's drinking enough liquids aside from chilled beer. I know from Facebook that he's wearing sunglasses a lot. Sometimes, because of ritual obligations, he wanders around in full ceremonial sarong (conservative old school patterned cloth precisely so) with an heirloom kris seated in a sash-like fold on his back.

One presumes that at those times he's not puffing on a Plasencia or E. P. Carrillo.

Sometimes it rains. Sheer buckets. A deluge.

Time for durian ice cream.


Eh, no.


As far as I'm concerned, it is never time for durian ice cream. Generally speaking our tastes often coincide. But at durian ice cream I must draw a line. The ossue is that whatever you eat comes out in your skin, more so if you are Caucasian. Whatever you smoke, also. A fillipina of education (Berkeley) and refined sensibilities once informed me that I reeked of Latakia tobacco, and even the telephone which I had briefly used stank of it. I was considerably younger then and like many men of that age more "full flavoured". It was the same era that on a flight back to Manila from Mindanao I had plenty of space on the plane because I had eaten durian for breakfast.

It had not been a deliberate decision.
But in retrospect, I'd do it again.

Napakapraktikal nito.

In my friend's climate, at this time of year, I'd probably not even consider any ice cream. Too much of a jolt of frigid stuff makes the body compensate, so I'd also abstain from the chilled beer. And the durian icecream, eaten slowly so as to not shock the system, would be stinky dairy slurry half way through. No thank you.

The title of this post is sloyong sloyong in a Southern Fillipino language. Sloyong sloyong is a slow amble. Almost undulant. So that no excess energy is expended. Magsiyigsiyig.
Engkau mengerti?



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