For the first time in many many months, I woke up today, the second day of my weekend, and realised I had nothing pressing that needed to get done. My sister and I cleaned the apartment and bought groceries yesterday. I emerged from an intense six-day week at work that weighed heavily on my energy, and completed the last of three Arabic-language exams, having struggled to scrape together enough time since December to prepare for them.
So, with no studying to do or homework to complete until my next round of courses begins, no pressing errands to run, nor any plans to meet with friends, I suddenly found myself with a free day to exercise, read, write, sleep, cook, relax in front of the television, or whatever I felt like doing before another rigorous work week starts tomorrow. Free time is a valuable commodity that we often don’t have a lot of—or we fail to appreciate when we do.
One of the highlights of my trip to Malaysia earlier this month was an unexpected meeting with one of my friend’s eldest maternal uncles. My friend, his wife and I had just visited the beautiful Blue Mosque in Shah Alam for the afternoon prayer, Asr, and decided to stop by a small Chinese restaurant nearby for dessert before carrying on with sightseeing. When we had almost finished the refreshing desserts that combined crushed ice, sago and milk with mango, watermelon and honeydew, my friend noticed his uncle had just taken a seat at a nearby table to order lunch. He rushed over to greet his uncle in the incredibly courteous, respectful manner that is part of Malay tradition. Visibly pleased by the coincidence, my friend invited his uncle to join us for a few minutes before we headed off.
Dew Point 