Just drink tea
My evening ends in a very traditional local restaurant in Prince Edward where we evaluate and discuss the event that has just finished. An evening of improvised stories and songs in a private dining room which is run by a man (called Left) who quit his job as an engineer because of stress and now makes food for people. Arvin was the storyteller I was working with (who previously has been my Macau contact) and the evening was for a table of ten people.
It was good - strange - surprising - silly - fun - serious - thoughtful and between and alongside a series of dishes of Turkish food we performed and interacted with each other and the audience (amongst who was very old friend Wingo and his girlfriend).
I wrote songs about coriander, fires in the camp in Calais, wishes for tomorrow as well as goodbye and thankyou rhymes. I told the story of the Long Walk (the reason I am here), my personal journey in life (a shortened version) and the work I do here.
We (the performers)
Then walked across the block to a
Very traditional local place to
Sit and be served by old men with whiskered faces
Pot bellies and vests, I didn't
Eat much, just drank tea.
Back in Heritage
Lodge, the aircon whirls as I write.
On the floor the dead cockroach lies beside
The case packed for an early morning journey to
Shenhzen. I am starting to feel
This is my Long Walk.