The Durian
festival has come and gone again. Every year in my apartment complex there is a
day devoted to the Durian. By the Residents. On one day each year they glorify
this fruit. Then they devour it.
They do this by
the pool.
In the
Function room.
I don't mind
it actually. The Durian. It doesn't really taste like it smells. There are a
few different varieties as well. Ask the Singaporeans, the Malays and the
Chinese. They will tell you all about it. They love it. They really love it.
They love it too when I say I love it. It delights them. Although I should
confess that I don't really love it. I just don't mind it. I told a white lie.
I prefer the less sweet variety.
It's a bit
drier.
I was warned
at my first Durian festival that you should never drink too much alcohol when
eating the fruit. I was informed that it was dangerous. People had died. I was
half pissed at the time this was told so I was worried. I was alarmed in fact.
I Googled this disturbing information when I got home.
They were
right.
People had
died.
There can be
an incompatible reaction. Consuming the durian makes me sweat a bit. I don't
drink alcohol at the Durian Festivals anymore.
My favorite
fruit by far in Singapore is the Mangostein. It is delicious and nutritious.
The locals describe the Durian as the King of the fruits. The Mangostein is
it's Queen. Or it could be the other way around. I get confused easily. The
Mangostein tastes like a grape crossed with an orange.
Or a
Mandarin.
Sort of.
Yum yum.
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