let’s call this the holy grail. i’d been trying to visit icekimo for the last two or three years, ever since my sister thrust a slightly dog-eared business card of theirs into my hand. and perhaps i didn’t try hard enough. i mean, this is an ice cream cafe pretty much in the next suburb from the family home, but it was never the right time, or there was just no time (no time for ice cream! whoulda thunk!), or… see, there’s just no excuse.

but we finally made it. saturday night after korean bbq, we circled the block twice looking for parking, ran across the big street in the path of fast cars, ducked beneath the scaffolding that armoured the building, and finally stepped into pink, corrugated, c u t e icekimo.

there were more flavours that i wanted to try than i could reasonably expect to consume after korean bbq, but fortuitously, nellie and the kid sorted themselves out in a most agreeable manner.

maeve had an enormous “small” scoop of bandung, a rich and rosey concoction in a most fetching shade of pink. my sister intoned “dino milo” at the counter for some time before picking cempedak, which was just as i had hoped. it was a sunny orb of yellow, and the perfume of the fruit filled my mouth when i licked a proffered bit off the little plastic paddle. they’d been generous with the chunks of cempedak all the way through.

me? i had a scoop of teh tarik, and a scoop of jasmine. both were light and milky, and comforting in the way of a cup of tea. there was wistfulness as i scraped away the last dregs at the bottom of the paper cup.

singapore has been good to us… except for that moment on friday morning when my permanent residence visa was revoked, finally, after almost thirty years. “um. our records show that you are not employed in singapore,” said the auntie behind the counter at the immigration department. “yes,” i said, and she was almost apologetic. “try and come back to work before may,” she suggested, “and if you stay for a year or so, we may reinstate your status.” so that’s it then.

tomorrow night we leave, our bags packed with such treats as apple kitkats, strawberry marshmallow oreo chocolate pies, a muji shirt, moomin candy. several bags of quality german xmas gingerbread just to keep the japanese contingent in check. when i next return, way, way after may, i will have a bedroom here, and a bank account, good times and treats, a mother and a father… and an unsettling feeling that i won’t be able to stay for as long as i’d like.