Eating, photographing and filming don't go together particularly if they have to be carried out almost simultaneously, that is if one wants to make the most out of every circumstance at hand something is inevitably going to be left behind ... and in this case it was the meal which was put right in front of me in lacquered ware with several partitions, as the harp musician 's soft voice reached my ears.
I stood in one of the restaurant's corners watching him almost speechless. His voice was less "metalic" than the Burmese singer I had listened to some days before and despite not understanding a word of what he was singing I stood there as if I did.
Soon after his performance was over and before I could go back to the table a series of story telling scenarios using puppets caught my attention again. The puppeteers were brilliant and so were the traditional stories I fell for as if I were a child.
By the time I sat back at the table the waiters had taken the lacquered ware that once stood in front of me and which I had barely touched. I don't think I would have minded having eaten the food cold but it was then too late. As I went to bed I felt slightly hungry but mesmerised by the performances I had once more had the opportunity to watch