The long and winding road took us to the hills of Tamparuli
and led us to this house nestled in the middle of an orchard. It is the fruit
season and the tall durian trees dotting the property proudly dangle their
fruit high above the ground. Meg, Rita and I took a walk to see what we could
see but were driven back to the house by a cloud of pesky mosquitoes hovering
over our heads, and the fear of falling durians.
The cold came early and although the wind was but a gentle
breeze during our walk, it was strong enough to shake a durian fruit off its
stalk. The big fruit hit a branch on its way down and we watched as it burst—like a mini bunga api discharging a shower of white
durian flesh into the air-- before crashing into the bushes… missing us by a
few feet.
Back at the house there were stories to share, games to play
and food galore. So over mugs of Kopi Tenom we played Scrabble and talked about
the missing siblings and wondered what urgent matters had kept them away from
our once-in-a-blue-moon get-together.
Between taking our turns at Scrabble and munching on crunchy
peanuts from Sandakan ,
we were shown how to put toppings on pizza doughs by the Lord and Master of the
property. “Not too much of this and that and just a bit of cheese. You want it
crispy, not soggy,” he said as he uncovered a bowl containing diced
pieces of boiled pumpkin.
There were also two birthdays to celebrate—the birthdays of
the two youngest siblings. We sang Happy Birthday twice and they blew the
candles twice all because someone didn’t have his camera ready! Nobody was
complaining though.
The Princess had fun. The company was great and the sunset hinted at a fine tomorrow but we couldn’t
stay the night like the rest of the clan. Dottie was leaving on a jet plane
early the next morning so it was: “Bye-bye
Kampung Kiwoi. Have a great time, everyone!”
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