Miscellanea from the Lost Quarter and beyond.

New China

The sun set quickly in that part of the world, a half hour of gloaming before the darkness took hold. They gathered in the city’s old main square while the full brightness of day still held, though the sun had already vanished behind the crowded buildings. Trees lined the outer edge while a statue of some notable raised up on a white pedestal occupied the centre. At either end food vendors clustered, stalls offering quail eggs, fish balls, and skewers of bbq meat, including tongue and heart and intestine dredged in a mixture of vinegar and soy sauce.  

They picked their way among the stalls sampling the wares, joined by a crowd of others. Mostly students finished classes for the day and enjoying a snack and a few last moments with friends before heading home for the evening. A few men pushing small carts offering dirty ice cream wandered the square, a popular choice given the oppressive heat of the day. Even the sun’s disappearance offered little relief. They each had a cone of the watery stuff – more sorbet than ice cream – which they had to eat frantically before it disintegrated onto the pavement at their feet. 

Just off the square was the New China Restaurant, the oldest in the city. Large fans whirled from the ceiling while portable ones stood along each aisle vainly trying to bring some cool air to the cramped tables. But there was no relief to be found anywhere. The place was empty but for them, despite the fact it was dinner time. They ordered lumpia – the best lumpia in the city it was said – and beers. It really was the best they had had, crispy, flavorful, a marvel. 

They were the only customers, the owners sitting at another table gossiping in low voices. When they finished they returned to the square, sill bustling with activity amid the shadows, going to the far side where the tricycles idled waiting for customers and headed for home.