Domino boy

Sunday afternoon
I am sitting in a tightly packed, 4 table gathering of men who are playing dominos. My room has more mosquitoes than I can handle, so I will need to smear on the repellant before bed. Strolling along, I come upon these men. The game is played as we play it but as you play your domino you slap it hard on the table and slide or throw it into place with an air of intimidation. Close is good enough. Being hungry, I order a soup which has noodles, an egg, and vegetables. A 2 1/2 year old boy is learning about the game from his father and slaps the domino down hard. There is no recognition of numbers but that isn't important. Darkest black eyes in the world, his front teeth are half rotted out. Teasing seems to be a part of life here. An elderly man is aggravating the boy with flicks of his hair, pulling on his penis, touching his arm, pulling down his pants when he stands. Finally, the boy yells at him and everyone laughs, except the boy. He scowls, attempting to concentrate on his game. A strong cup of sugar coffee wakes me. Others are drinking milk tea, coke, sprite, and others unknown to me. The little boy tires and curls up on a cabinet on the outer edge of the enclosure. On the cabinet are 2 bicycle tires and tubes. A man arrives with his small glass case of cigarettes which he selling either as a pack for 10000 ($1) or by the piece for 600 (6 cents). I hope my math is correct. He sits next to me and I ask him for a piece of paper from his cahier where he keeps track of his sales and buy him a tea drink for his bother. No bother! He is thrilled to be practicing English. We speak about the same amount of each other's language. I make a motion in the air, my left hand coming to the right and my right hand going to the left, missing each other. He laughs and gets the meaning. Sometimes, we understand and I make a motion of touching fingers. Again, laughter. This enclosure is a makeshift 12X15 plastic covering. On the one end is the kitchen where a woman is cooking over a small flame. Her work is sporadic since there isn't much going on except a few drinks. There are 2 domino games in progress, 4 players/game. The little boy is shifted to a better position by his mother, the cook. Now 3 games are in progress. 17 of us crowd this small enclosure and quickly become 21. Along the street come several groups of Batak young people dressed in black, jeans, t-shirts, studded jackets. Some sport Mohawks. I ask about them but no one can add much. I wish I knew why they are dressed and coiffed as they are. A scooter pulls up with a side car which has been coverted into a flat surface to carry boxes or whatever. The ingenuity and adaptiveness is fun to watch. A motorbike pulls up and I notice an air compressor under a covering along the street. Also, I notice a few more tires and tubes. 1 minute later the motorbike is gone with a few rp exchanging hands. Then it fits, the tires and tubes, and air compressor make this place a "garage". One of the men sits with his shirt pulled up under his armpits. He's as hot as I am. But, a breeze picks up, the shirt comes down. I've been here for 4 1/2 hours and need a nap. Before I leave, I settle my bill; soup, one water, 2 coffees, 2 teas for the cigarette man comes to $1.80. I give her a 20000 ($2) bill and refuse the change. Hand shakes and good-byes all around. I'm tired from doing nothing!