(no subject)

( A photo of me taken last night, wearing an unusual skirt (bought on eBay). )

I remembered the remnants:

Dark roots of hair,
Fizzed up sherbet,
A neon sign with blue lightning bolts,
A deserted room.

The night,
A game of snap,
Half-closed eyelids,
A lampshade speckled with paint.

A leftover word,
A skip, full of sand,
A pinafore hung from a tree.

Kuih and Kvas

Wednesday was a day of unexpected food. I consumed kuih and квас.

The food at the Malaysian Food Festival at the university smelt delicious as I walked in and gazed at the bright colours of sweets and read the strange sounding names of various dishes. I tried some round green chewy kuih sweets covered in coconut. They looked a bit like the pictures of onde-onde but were flatter.

In the evening, my Russian teacher offered cups of Kvas(квас) to the class. It is a non-alcoholic drink often made with fermented rye bread and unsurprisingly, tasted quite like beer. Searching for details of the drink, I came across a London website that claimed that two thirds of Russian men die drunk. Disturbing.