Earlier today, at about 10.51 a..m. Singapore local time, in Chinatown, I walked past a shop that sold chop sticks by the score. I was overcome by emotion. So what is it about something as mundane as chopsticks that could reduce me to an emotional wreck, albeit for only a minute or two?
At the Sheraton, Saigon/Ho Chi Minh City last year, when were having that holiday of a lifetime, the one you're supposed to have before one of you dies, as we were staying in the Towers element of the hotel (the business area) we were offered the choice of a gift from the hotel to us. I left it to Laing to make the choice, and we got a a box containing two pairs of chopsticks. They are very nice chopsticks. They look too good to use. We were, of course going to use them the next time we were going to have a Chinese meal. A meal we never had.
Life has a way of kicking you in the balls when you least expect it.
