Durian

Ah!.. That fragrant fruit!

The elevators of the better hotels have signs… No dogs, No smoking and No Durian!

The teachers divide themselves into groups during workshops: those that like Durian, those that do not.

Trucks drive by and I turn my head.. ‘What was that smell?’

Stands along the highway are full of the overstuffed-football sized spiky fruit and women, heads covered and sly, Mona-Lisa-like smiles take pleasure in enticing you to try .. just a bit, of fried, grilled, baked Dorian.  They hide in bread or pancakes or..

Durian.. it must be the national fruit of Malaysia.

In Kl the other day I passed a Durian booth in the mall: Durian Cream Puffs.. Durian doughnuts.. Durian.. Ice-cream?!

I love ice-cream .. any flavour!

As I am planning on leaving the country in a couple of weeks I decide to ‘give it a go’.

They have an open ‘fruit’ on the counter... it’s spiky, almost wooden shell encases a thick rind and the softer fruit, protected inside, looks like like a thick, gelatinous custard that has sat out too long.. blobs of it.. with a little film on the outside, spill out of the shell.

I gaze upon it.. it is disgusting really.. but, I have ordered.. and I really do like ice-cream.

I hand over two Ringett and it is mine.. just a little scoop really.. and take a taste.. and then swallow quickly.

Durian tastes as it smells – It’s the sewages that runs down the little ditches in Sabak Bernam. The blackish river, with rotting vegetation and monkey poo along it's banks, near town: It's a combination of the mouldy buildings and the garbage that sits in the hot sun for days.. spread by dogs and flea-ridden cats, at the entrance to my Taman.

I hand it to Vas. "Taste it" I say.

Vas will eat just about anything.. but not the Durian ice-cream – it hit the rubbish bin in short order.

The rest of the day we spent getting the taste out of our mouth.

Durian..

Eeuwww!