I’m in Malaysia, in a town called Batu Pahat.
It’s not KL, it’s not JB, and therefore, many people think it’s a Kampong tucked away in Malaysia.
But really, it’s not that kampong-ish. Of course, we can’t compare it to KL – they’re cities but at least over here, they have buildings, cars, malls, cinemas, and duh, restaurants (food).
So I was at a slightly older part of town (where there are real houses) and over there, I saw an ice cream cart.
I know what people are going to say, want to buy ice cream from an ice cream cart, Orchard Road also got, so what’s so special about this ice-cream cart?
Well, let’s just say the ones in Orchard Road is stationary in the sense that they are parked there and people go there to buy, but over here, the cart is really a mobile ice-cream cart that moves. The Malay man pedals the bike with a metal thing attached to the back of the bike. I was in my car (modern kid, I am) but when I saw it, I couldn’t help but come out to buy the ice cream.
I paid RM 2 (S$0.80?) and I ran off, happily eating only half of the entire cup.
And then I thought about it, maybe this is how our parents felt like when they were young. They, too, had a dollar and at the steps of their house (at that time, maybe not condo/hdb yet). They heard the ice cream cart playing the same song, ringing the same bell. They run towards it to buy the ice cream. It’s not Haagen Daz, it’s not Macdonalds or Swensen, but the thrill of buying an ice cream from an ice cream truck made eating that ice cream nicer than the Haagen Daz’s one.
I haven’t seen one in Singapore or a lot of places. They’re an endangered species so if you do hear the bell of an ice-cream cart ringing. Run out and buy a cup.
You’d feel the warmth of the good old days, and I promise you, it’d be an unforgettable ice cream.
Girl in Pink