Walking alone unearths random memories
It is not good for man to be alone in life, but it's good for a man to be alone now and then.
All the ancient mystics did it.
Jesus did it. John the Baptiser did it.
Modern mystics do it.
Without spending time alone and in silence, how will you ever know who you are?
How will you ever know what Spirit wants?
Walking alone is fun
Much of my happy memories involve me walking alone.
That used to be my favourite pastime as a kid and a teen.
I remember walking down from church and school.
Down the hill into the streets, the old streets. The pre-War streets.
There we'd eat zhab fan - mixed rice, economy rice, really literally "miscellaneous rice" in Cantonese.
It was possible, depending on your selection, to have a meal of rice, sides, tea and soup for two ringgit.
The trick was to avoid any meat. Meat was the expensive thing.
Malaysia's staple diet
Zhab fan (rhymes with "chubby fun") is basically a meal of rice on a plate as the base, which you would then self-ladle on dishes from a wide spread of meat and vegetables. The array typically spans several trays of food wide and two or three trays deep.
In Malaysia, zhab fan is the Chinese version of this, nasi campur is the Malay version and nasi kandar is the Indian Muslim version. There is also the Indian version, but I just now realise that I don't know what it's called.
Nasi campur is literally "mixed rice," while kandar means to carry something in two loads on opposite ends of a stick with your shoulder upholding the centre of the stick.
Nasi kandar was traditionally sold by travelling purveyors who'd carry their wares in huge circular stacked trays dangling from the ends of sticks.
Whatever they're called, the concept is the same.
A heaping serving of rice with a variety of dishes heaped on top.
That's what Malaysians eat in heaps.