This story began from my first day at Christchurch. I got myself a travel guide of Christchurch and I spotted in my first glances through it, an Indian restaurant called The Himalayas on Kilmore Street, not far from Lichfield Street, from where I would be staying.
--
Today as Birthday lunch on my own I thought I'd eat in that Indian restaurant, and fittingly so, since I was particularly missing the Himalayas for some reason. I even set the mood by playing some Kishore Kumar and Lata Mangeshkar on my iTunes as I showered and dressed up.
Kilmore Street was not hard to find. But The Himalayas was. It was raining and really, really cold. It happened to be the coldest day since I got here. I walked for around half an hour, spinning around and around in the same square, but didn't find it.
So I asked an old shopkeeper if he knew a place called the Himalayas. He pointed to a yellow building just a little down the road, "I am not sure if that's the place, but it is an Indian restaurant.." he said. I told him, "Anything Indian will do.."
I walked up there and to my relief it was The Himalayas. I laughed to myself and crossed the road, numbed with the cold, but relieved.
The sign at the door, however, bluntly muttered: CLOSED. I stood for a bit there, letting the truth sink in. I felt like some random Sir Arthur Kenisworth who went on an Indian treasure hunt for years only to be beaten at arm's reach of the treasure by a cheap group of guffawing bandits.
"What do I do? Walk back.." I told myself. Just a few yards away I cluttered into a Thai restaurant named 'Thai Smile'. They had clippings of The Press on the walls. I was in for another disappointment. They didn't serve lunch here. ONLY dinner.
The man though saw me shivering and stopped me as I was opening the door to go back out. He offered me to make lunch. A dinner serving however. Beef. So I thanked him. He called into the kitchen, probably saying something like, "A poor fellow, cold and hungry.. Make something warm for him, dear!" in Thai.
He even brought me warm water. I must have looked pitiful. I didn't even realise I was in such a state myself. The Thai beef was good.
Later I stopped in at Starbucks and had Chai Tea Latte (whatever that is supposed to mean). I remember seeing a pretty Japanese girl, cascading black hair.
At the Convenience Store that evening, I bought two packs of instant noodles. The Korean keeper of the store, one of my very few friends in Christchurch, pointed to a group of Asian kids filing out of the store, "They're a skiing team."
"Ah." I answered, "Very cold today."
"Yeah. That's $3.70."
I put the noodles in.
"Do you eat with chopsticks?"
"No. I don't."
"You take chopsticks. You try eating."
"Ok. How much are they?"
"No, no. Nothing."
"Free?"
Wow, I thought, I haven't had anything for free since I left India.
"Yes."
"Thanks. Thanks." I put the little pack into my back, "See you. Bye bye."
I went out grinning. Free chopsticks. Haha. God is so good.
--
Ben Ning, Creative Practitioner