The crone at the city gates

Many years ago, I heard a fable, and it goes like this:

A traveller approaches a city's gates, and seated outside them is an old woman.
"Hey, old woman," said the man, "What kind of people live in this city?"
"I'll answer your question," she replied with a smile, "but first tell me about the people in the city you've left."
"They were horrid!" he exclaimed. "Thieving, deceitful, cold-hearted, and I couldn't wait to be away from them."
"Oh," she said sadly.  "Well, I'm sorry to tell you this, but that's exactly the sort of people who live in this city."
He snorted derisively and moved on.  A few hours later, another traveller approached the old crone.

"Excuse me," he said, "but can you tell me about the people who live here?"
She smiled.  "I'll answer your question, but first tell me about the people in the city you've left."
"Ohhhh," he sighed, "they were wonderful!  Kind, generous and honest, and it's broken my heart to leave them."
"No worries!" said the old woman. "That is precisely the sort of people you'll find here."

As I got ready for the move, I recited this fable like a mantra, as a prayer that the people I would find in Phnom Penh would become as priceless to me as those I was leaving in Kuala Lumpur. It's too soon to tell, although the early signs seem promising.  Especially as a lone, middle-aged female foreigner, I've drawn tremendous solace from my Malaysian friends who were gracious enough to allow me into their circles despite my pasty skin tone and odd habits.

Most of my friends remember that for my birthday last year, one of my Malaysian buddies, a skateboarding, animal-loving, lunatic-lawyer, Wong Ee Lynn, invited me to jump off a cliff.  And I accepted.

Yes, that's a brahminy eagle to the right of us.

The week before the move, Ee Lynn arranged a gathering of kindred spirits at a gorgeously designed jungle retreat an hour or so outside of KL.

The cast of characters:

Well, at the left, there's me, the one with white hair.  Next in line is Poh Lin, sharp as a razor, polyglot editor and a woman who consistently pulls rabbits out of hats, thanks to her social network extraordinaire. The lady in the center is Dr. Rangamal, whom I adored the instant I met her. She is pragmatic and frank, and if I ever need surgery, I would want her holding the scalpel. Ee Lynn, the instigator of this marvelous outing, is the fourth in the row. On the far right is Nicole, who has given her all at Selangor SPCA for years and has blessed me with kindness and compassion, as well. Nicole is setting off on a new career now, too, so this felt like a celebration (?) of many transitions.

Ee Lynn beat me to it:  She posted an eloquent account of our retreat with some great photos. Check this out if you're curious about "Our cosy little jungle shindig" ...

http://www.covertoperations78.blogspot.com/2014/04/our-cosy-little-jungle-shindig-in.html