Just then, a loud voice singing hokkien songs. The voice came closer and closer. It was a guy with only one leg left on a wheel chair trying his luck at singing his way to some money. He was quite young about 50s. So donation? No way.
But I was impressed with his hokkien-nese. The song was my childhood melody. So I decided to test him. I asked him whether he is a sinkie of that little island. He greeted me, M'dam. Fuck. So donation? No, no way. He said he is still a sinkie and he showed me his begging license and claimed that the fuckers only issued them if they were originally from that little island.
Finally, giving? Checked.
So I gave him a big fat note. He just said a simple thank you, brother. I smiled. He understood me.
A bowl of hot spicy fish porridge suddenly appeared on my table. The old man hawker served me with a big smile.
I felt so xenophobic. Maybe it's harvest time soon for that little island. Good Luck then! Brothers and sisters.
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