The Travels of Anadrasata Nearabhigan: Day 22

[rix_scaedu]

So, this was the last day of Anadrasata's travels that will fit in the notebook I have been using to write these episodes in long hand with a fountain pen.  It's a good thing that I bought two of them.

It runs to 1,553 words, and I hope that you enjoy it.

Index Page.
 

Onnaday, 3 Naisen, 1893 C.E.

Rebi, 18 Lamtaa, 2157 T.M.L.

Dear Journal,

I took a long, hard look at my shopping this morning, and went to the front desk of the hostel to order and pay for a porter to carry my things back to the ship this morning.  Then I went to breakfast.

There was a fourth table of passengers in first class this morning.  The Kebble-tan is Imperial registered but Bakmatri owned, and follows a route from the Bakmatri Protectorates that brings it across the Kerajaa and into Sengrangri from the northwest, then it turns eastward and goes on to Amnestri.  I have this information from a conversation Mr Taighaign had with another businessman from the Kebble-tan who was sitting on the end of their table, just a walkway away from him.  They exchanged business cards.

Breakfast was rice, pan fried fish (I failed to specify yesterday) and fruit.  As with yesterday, some of the fruit was nothing I've ever seen before and some was not what I expected from its appearance.

I returned to my room after breakfast, finished packing my things up, and doublechecked that I'd left nothing behind.  The porter arrived at the appointed time, wearing the same green livery as the ones who helped me yesterday, and Miss Eyeu for that matter although hers was a different garment.  Mr Taighaign and I were back in our cabins on the Pearlish Queen by midmorning.

My stewardess warned me that the passengers travelling between Sengrangri and tomorrow's port, Palebihen Leningri, would be boarding almost immediately and that first class is fully booked.  I took the hint and spent the time until lunch stowing my purchases in my chest, making sure to keep out the items I thought I would want for this afternoon.

Even with my sheets, pillowcases, tablecloth, and napkins the lower section of my chest is less than half full.

My only interruption was peremptory knocking on my door about an hour before lunch.  I opened it to find a Kerajaan matron, who said something to me in a peremptory and demanding tone.  She reminded me of the mayor's wife at home.  I curtsied and said politely that I don't understand Behessa.  Fortunately, a stewardess was passing at that moment, and I managed to grab her attention, and asked if she could help us.  The stewardess does speak Behessa and understood that the matron, Madam Mehsiru, had expected to find her son in this cabin and was, naturally, surprised to find me.  The stewardess confirmed that this was my cabin, and had been since Amnestri, and suggested that Madam Mehsiru consult with the Chief Purser to find out where her son is lodged.  Anyway, that is what the stewardess told me she said.  For my part, when Madam Mehsiru said something to me that sounded like a farewell (or a dismissal) I curtsied and said goodbye.  [The stewardess gave me to understand that Madam is used for the Imperial translation of an honorific that is higher ranked than Mrs but lower than Lady.]

There were three new Imperial passengers at lunch, with everyone else being Kerajaan. There was Mr dh'Lhais who claimed the seat next to me, and is returning to our consulate in Palebihen Leningri, and there was a historian, Dr Idhaisailt, travelling with his assistant to locate some original documents that he believes are in Palebihen Leningri.  Dr Idhaisailt sat opposite Mr dh'Lhais while his assistant, Mr Saighaitumais, sat opposite me.  Dr Idhaisialt made it clear that he was trying to gain consular assistance in getting access to the place he though his documents might be, but Mr dh'Lhais was very good at stonewalling him, saying that he didn't have the rank to promise that help.  Mr Saighaitumais, meanwhile, asked me how I had liked Sengrangri.  I replied that I had liked it very much, and in our conversation about it, I mentioned the murder of the governess.  This got Mr dh'Lhais' attention, and he turned to me to say that it was a bad business, and added to all three of us that he couldn't say more but that it seemed to be part of a pattern of events, and we should heed any warnings we'd received about the matter in Sengrangri.  After a moment's silence from all of us, I asked if he might be related to Captain dh'Lhais whom I had met earlier in my travels.  He replied that he didn't know - his ancestor had left Fraisgaerth six generations ago and they hadn't been back.  Conversation then drifted onto more general subjects.

After lunch I took two turns around the promenade deck, noted that we were being accompanied(?), paralleled(?), shadowed(?) by a small Kerajaan military airship, then returned to my cabin to fetch the embroidery pattern book, my paper and pencil for roughing out embroidery designs, and the first Aunty Ssang book in preparation for spending the afternoon in the balcony parlor.  First I went through the pattern book marking the designs I liked, then I went back through it marking the ones I thought would be particularly good for bed linen or table linen.  I sketched some rough ideas for element placement for the table linen, both tablecloth and napkins, but pillowslips are harder to manage when they're already made up.  Also, the question with sheets is also do you embroider at all, and if you do, how much?  I realised two things: firstly, I don't have to decide everything about these projects right now; and secondly, if I'm going to get the effect I think I want on the table linen, I will need another two colours.

At that point I tidied up my embroidery work and opened the Aunty Ssang book.  I was a chapter and a half in when the stewardess asked me if I would like some tea.  I looked up and there were seven Kerajaan ladies there who hadn't been there earlier and whom I had not noticed coming into the room.  While the stewardess was pouring my tea, one of the ladies who spoke Imperial asked me what I had been reading so intently.  I told her (she is Mrs Sirihu), she translated for the others, and they laughed.  They've all read them.  I think we got on well after that, including Madam Mehsiru who was one of the company.

When we returned to our cabins to get ready for dinner, Madam Mehsiru looked confused when I went into my cabin.  Almost as if she still thought it was her son's.

A t dinner I was on the Chief Engineer's table between Mr Saighaitumais and a Mr Emet.  Mr Emet speaks conversational Imperial and is travelling on an annual inspection of his family's holdings in various parts of the country.  He explained the crop cycle at his family's main farmland holding and I described the same thing for my brother's holdings.  He was surprised by how cold it gets where we are, and I could not imagine how much rain they get in the monsoon season.  Mr Saighaitumais and I spoke about his studies - well, he spoke and I offered leading questions.  He took his degree at Our Father and St Bhain Restored in North Bhearghaith and is working for Dr Idhaisailt to save money, and hopefully identify a subject, for him to be able to undertake doctoral studies.

After dinner we all repaired to the balcony parlor for tea.  Madam Mehsiru sat beside me with a man a few years older than me who introduced himself as her son, Mr Reffa.  Mr Reffa expressed confusion that I was, apparently, in the cabin he was in, next to his mother, whereas he is quite sure that no-one else is using his cabin.  I clarified that yes he has been telling his mother that he is in the cabin next to hers on the side nearest the crew's stairs.  I also told him that is definitely where I am because Madam Mehsiru and I have seen each other going in and out of our cabins.  Then I asked him where he thought his mother's cabin is.  I think he translated the question for her, and then told her the answer.  Madam Mehsiru then said a lot of things to him in a sharp undertone, and he began to look embarrassed and even shamefaced.  When she finished talking, he turned to me and apologised - he is on the other side of the ship and thought that his mother was beside him.  He also said he might owe the actual occupant of the cabin an apology because he has slipped some notes for his mother under their door….

I suggested that we get up a table of the card matching game that Lord Retneseri had introduced me to, noting that I had only played it a few times.  Madam Mehsiru thought that was a fine idea, and insisted that her son make up one of the group.  In the end, there were eight of us at the table and we played three times through the deck.  I don’t think I acquitted myself too badly – certainly I didn’t have the lowest score.

When we were done, I came back to my cabin and prepared my overnight bag for another two nights in a hostel.

Anadrasata Nearabhigan

Comments

[chanter1944]

I do like the sound of the Kerajaa, honestly. I've tried, casually, to think of an equivalent in local reality, and the closest I've managed to get is Pakistan or possibly Bangladesh, though I first considered Iran (blame/credit the province named Tamarlih for that one) or India before pondering further. I've just had another possibility occur to me - Malaysia. Anyway, all my musing aside, I do like your Kerajaa, with its counters games and its spiced tea possibilities, and its refusal to be conquered.

[rix_scaedu]

Thank you.

[zero_pixel_count]

I just love her skills with conversational undercurrents, still.

Oh she got sucked into that book, didn't she :D - seems to be a fast route to common ground with Kerajaan ladies.

There must be some considerable thought goes into those table plans once language becomes a factor as well!

"Madam Mehsiru and I have seen each other going in and out of our cabins"
She'd make a good diplomat :D