The World of Tai Tai

I found myself falling into a dark, bottomless abyss.   A pair of shiny arms grabbed hold of me and darkness disintegrated into light. I was standing hand in hand with a lady on a path overhung with molting trees.   Tattered clouds enlarged and united in the sky and light checkered with shade around us.   “Are you Angela?” I asked, “The girl who grew up with me all my life in my dreams?” She nodded and said, “Yes, I am your guardian angel. Your time on earth isn’t over yet and I am here to bring you back to life. ”  

“Encik, all my ferntops are freshly-picked. One ikat one ringgit.” “Taukeh, my catfish are fat and succulent. They are very delicious.” “My snake fruits are sweet and crunchy. One kilo only four ringgit.” It was 9 a.m. in the morning. The sun was high above the horizon and the whole Tamu was awash in its bright light. Ng, Robin and I were weaving our way through thick crowds of people. On both sides of us, vegetables, fruit, fish and whatnot were heaped like mountains on tarpaulin sheets. Every where we went, friendly vendors tried to persuade us to buy from them in Brunei Malay. “The language similarity is due to Limbang’s close proximity to Brunei,” I explained to Ng, a teacher from West Malaysia. We were busy making comparisons of prices in our minds as we feasted our eyes on the kaleidoscopic display of local produce. A basketful of plants with red, knobby roots caught Ng’s eye. He squatted down on his hams and asked the middle-aged male vendor what they were...

The Bangkita Tamu in Limbang By Lo Sin Yee                                                                 “Encik, all my midin are freshly-picked, satu ikat satu ringgit .” “Taukeh, my catfish are fat and succulent, they are best cooked the lemak way. ” “My buah salak are sweet and crunchy, one kilo only four ringgit.”                It was 9 a.m. in the morning. The sun was high above the horizon and the whole Tamu was awash in its bright light. Ng, Robin and I were weaving our way through thick crowds of people.     On both sides...

It was 9 a.m. in the morning. The sun was high above the horizon and the whole Tamu was awash in its bright light. Ng, Robin and I were weaving our way through thick crowds of people.     On both sides of us, vegetables, fruits, fish and whatnot were heaped like mountains on tarpaulin sheets.   Every vendor persuaded us to buy from them in their cordial Brunei-accented Malay.   We were busy making comparisons of prices in our minds as we feasted our eyes on the kaleidoscopic display of local produce.                    A basketful of plants with red, knobby roots caught Ng’s eye.   He squatted down on his hams and asked the middle-aged male vendor what they were.                 “They are red turmeric,” said the vendor.             ...