Yiros

                                    

                                          
                   
                          
When Noah said he knew a place 'literally round the corner' he may have exaggerated a bit. 'Abu Tamer's' modest kebab hut was probably a fifteen, almost twenty minute walk from our apartment building, located several streets and corners away and secluded in a quiet part of the suburb. 
                          
All the while as we walked, and still there was no sign of the hut, Noah would try to reassure me by saying things like 'we're almost there' or 'it's down this street, you'll like it, it's really good...authentic.' Not having much of an option, I would just nod my head and continue walking, hoping that we'd reach this place sooner than later.
                          
Honestly, I wasn't expecting Abu Tamer's place to be as 'authentic' as Noah suggested. It was the most brightly lit store in the street, with coloured flashing bulbs glowing along the edge of the outside veranda and the kebab shop sign handing down low with large gold and red text hand painted in English and Arabic. As we approached it, the distinguishable sound of Arabian music hummed out into the street and slowly filled my ears with the loud tabla beats and rattling maracas.
                          
As we stepped through the sliced plastic curtains covering the entry, the smell of seasoned meat, sauces, and grease waft through the air around me and make my mouth water in anticipation. The hut is smaller on the inside than what appears outside, but it's a comfortable size. The laminate floors seem to shine from the white fluorescent lights on the ceiling. There are only three, white plastic circular tables at the front of the hut, each with four plastic chairs tucked beneath them.
                          
Behind the tables, is a small counter with an old looking cash register decorated with a number of a fruit stickers peeled off of apples, oranges and mandarins.  To the side is a glass casing of different fillings stashed in metal dishes and put on display, below a menu plastered on the wall at the top. Coming from behind the counter, I can hear the sound of ruff voices speaking loudly and quickly.
                          
"Amu!" Noah's voice echoes through the empty 'diner' part of the hut , but it works to get the attention of one of the men from the kitchen.
                          
I glance towards Noah, as he rests an arm of the top of the display case. He brushes his hair slightly away from his face and gives me a smile. "Amu?" I ask. 
                          
"He taught me it," He nods his head in the direction of a short and rounded man approaching us. He's wearing a black polo shirt with a striped apron that has 'Abu Taher's kebab shop' embroidered on it. "It means uncle."
                          
I want to tell him that I know what it means, but I don't because 'Amu' speaks first.
                          
"Noah!" He practically bellows in the cheeriest tone his rough voice can pull off. I glance at Noah and notice his smile growing wider. "It's been a long time, my boy. I thought you forgot about us."
                          
"Nah," Noah replies, "I went to Adelaide, and been keeping busy with Uni." His fingers tap on the top of the display case as he speaks.
                          
"Yeah, yeah, Uni's tough, but you stick to it huh." His change in tone is quick; sounding like a warning parent. "It's tough now but you will work good later." I smile at his words, vividly reminded of Baba and his attitude towards my learning.
                          
"Salam." I shift my gaze surprisingly at the salutation, from the menu to 'Amu'.
                          
"Hi." I reply as I play with my bag straps.
                          
"I've never seen you before, you live here?" He rubs his hands together and then pats his apron.
                          
"She came with me." Noah perks up as he places both arms on the display case and leans his weight against it.
                          
"Oh, you're friends with Noah here?" Not sure what so say, I nod my head meekly. I don't know if we are friends or not, but I'm pretty sure, going to get something to eat isn't something neighbours do. "Yeah, Noah's a good boy- any friend of Noah, is friend of mine." He pats his chest as he beams at Noah. Noah just shakes his head as he looks up at the menu. "I'm Saleem, but everyone calls me Amu."