We recently published Sumitra Singam’s stunning “There Are Four Words for ‘You’ in the Malay Language.”

Here, we ask her two questions about her story:

1) I love the growing intimacy between the two characters here, shown by the evolving pronouns as they become closer. But I wonder — what do they call each other when their husbands are around?

This is the exact heart of the story, Cathy. Thank you so much for this question. Queerness remains dangerous in many parts of the world. In Malaysia, homosexuality is illegal, with heavy punishments. People with diverse sexual and gender identities lead a strange double life. Kuala Lumpur has a vibrant gay scene that ‘everyone’ knows about and can dip in and out of, but many people still have to bury this essential part of their identity to stay safe and accepted. The women in this story are doing what many have to do, presenting a dutiful and compliant face to the world and to their husbands, and slowly, cautiously, showing their true selves to each other. To answer your question concretely, these women might call each other ‘engkau’ in their husbands’ presence because intimacy between women is more acceptable. The situation would be very different had I written about a burgeoning relationship between the men in this story.

2) Food features so prominently in this piece! The flavors are so evocative and powerful. Is food a safe way for this pair to connect? Or is food simply incidental to their relationship?

Food is the absolute essence of Malaysia. Malaysians define themselves by their cuisine, and everything – sadness, joy, celebrations, just everyday life, revolves around food. A common greeting is, ‘Sudah makan?’ which means, ‘Have you eaten?’ If the answer is no, there are cries of horror and the situation is rectified immediately. It is a diverse country with three main race groups – Malay, Chinese and Indian, so the cuisine of each culture features, but there is also a fourth Malaysian cuisine created in the conjunction of cultures. Laksa, for example, or flaky roti canai eaten with dhal and hot curry; and of course, the national dish, nasi lemak – rice cooked in coconut milk, served with spicy chilli sambal, boiled egg, peanuts, fried anchovies and cucumber – best breakfast in the world. The women in this story are doing what most Malaysians do, punctuating their interactions with food. But it is also deeper than that, it is a language of connection and intimacy all on its own. I write about food a lot anyway, because it is part of my DNA; but this singularly Malaysian story just wouldn’t have been authentic or complete without the array of food described in it.