Samfoo, Clogs, & Rickshaw

(picture from Trade Aid)

Earlier last week, as I was waiting for the bus in the morning, I suddenly remembered the pretty, painted parasols I'd seen last year at Trade Aid and coveted. It didn't cost a lot - from NZD 16 and up, if memory serves (although memory usually doesn't) - which made it even more tempting. The only two reason I didn't get it were: one, I already had over 90 kgs of stuff to DHL home - I just didn't have the space for it; and, two, one parent or the other (but both, likely) would go, "Alamak! Why did you buy such a thing!?" and if I replied, "Because it's so pretty", I would not hear the end of it.

I'd thought those parasols were Chinese, (actually, they were Thai) which was why at a little past eight in the A.M., I was busying mass-texting my girlfriends (and Germ) as to where I could find them in Singapore. Joyce and Jen concurred that I would find them in Chinatown - and, Jen also offered, People's Park in Outram. My plan had been to visit those two staunchly Chinese this past Monday, but I'd forgotten it was a public holiday. (The only worse time than being out in Singapore on a Sunday, is being out in Singapore on a public holiday.)

Last night, I mentioned these parasols in passing during dinner, and my parents - the wisecracks I never thought they'd be - came at me with the seamless synchonization of an operatic duet.

What do you want those umbrellas for? A parent wanted to know.

"I need an umbrella."

Whoever carries those umbrellas these days, and what good would they be? The other parent asked.

"For the sun," I said, then added, "Duh. I'm not gonna use those in the rain."

I couldn't tell if my parents were amused or bemused or disgruntled.

If you're going to carry those umbrellas, a parent finally said, then you'd better be dressed in [indecipherable mumble-jumble in an indiscernible dialect].

Samfoo, provided the other parent. And wear [indecipherable mumble-jumble in an indiscernible dialect].

Clogs, the first parent explained, then continued, and you don't take the taxi - you take the rickshaw.

Well, ha bloody ha, Mom and Dad - as if the amahs carried such pretty parasols in your time ...

Nothing - save public holidays and thunderstorms - will stop me from buying the brolly of my dreams!