Walking to Singapore: A Year off the Beaten Path in Southeast Asia

All Rights Reserved © 2000 by Britt A. Bunyard

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ISBN: 978-0-5950-0086-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4697-7298-1 (ebook)

Contents

1 The Beginning

2 Singapore Girls and Leather Wallets

3 Arrival

4 1.22N, 103.45E

5 Doing Singapore—style

6 Worlds on the Edge Of Change

7 Back to Nature

8 The Big Stink

9 Holiday in Cambodia

10The Legend Of The One—Armed Saint

11Leatherbacks And Do—It—Yourself Batik

12Khalid’s Place Malaysia, Part III

13Hangin’ Around the Longhouse

14 3—6—9!

15 Walking to Singapore

16 Despair, Ecstasy, andEverything in Between

17A (Hill)Tribe Called Karen

18 Crossing the Bridge Over the River Kwai

19Ancient Empires in the Shadow of a Smoking Volcano

20 Island of the Gods

21Tatmadaw Days

22 Chicken Asses and Pig’s Organs Soup

23Adding it up: The Best of Southeast Asia

About the Author

For Heather, who made it all possible

1 The Beginning

So far, so good.

In fact, things were going too smoothly. We didn’t want to rush to the airport, then rush onto the plane. I hate having to hurry around like that. I mean, on our last day in the US—possibly for a long time—we just didn’t want to leave on a bad note. Besides, it would be good to get off to a new start, with our new lives and in our new country—on time, for a change!

How ironic. I mean, leaving for a new home—to a totally new country—and departing on December 31—New Year’s Eve. The symbolism of it all!

And it truly would be the beginning of new lives for both of us. We didn’t know what to expect—from a new country, new jobs, or from each other, for that matter. It seemed like we were only married yesterday and now we were off to get a fresh start in life together. I say itseemed like we were recently wed, but in fact it had been six months already. But because of our bizarre lifestyles—although nowadays, maybe not that bizarre—we really hadn’t lived together more than a couple weeks until the moving company showed up to pack our things for Singapore.

The people from the moving company didn’t know what to think! Heather had called to set an appointment for them to come over and give an estimated cost of moving our belongings. Heather’s employer,would be covering the costs of our relocation to Singapore. The movers were told that we would need an estimate of the costs to pack and store most of the items in a two bedroom apartment in Valley Forge,Pennsylvania. Likewise, some of the items would be shipped to our destined abode in Singapore. The movers showed up at our two bedroom apartment, but got more of a job than expected. Only a couple of weeks previously, I had quit my job and moved in with Heather. Just in time to have the movers pack and store my things, along with hers. So when they opened the door to the other bedroom, the one now being used as agiant closet, they were incredulous to find another full set of apartment furnishings, stacked to the ceiling! Heather’s employer was dismayed to receive a moving expense twice what was expected, but ponied up the money, nonetheless.

***

The pain in my thumb brought me back from my daydream and into the airport. The six stitches were another reminder of what can happen when I try to rush around. In the kitchen, it can result inbreaking a wine glass while hurrying to prepare a last—night—in—the—US dinner, before frantically packing our bags to leave the nextday. Who waits until the night before to begin to pack for a trip to another country; one they may not return from for at least one year???Who, I mean, besides my wife and me? And so another hurry—induced calamity had occurred. Now, we sat there in the Philadelphia Airportdebating my rationale during the whole incident of the previous evening. That I’d broken a wineglass wasn’t of any concern to Heather;it was the fact that I had merely wrapped my hand in a towel and sat down to dinner. Of course I’d have to get stitches, I had told her. ButI would enjoy my dinner FIRST.

That previous evening should have been seen as an omen. Despite our efforts, leaving the US would require a little more effort on this day.

I checked my watch…two hours until our flight was to leave. This was by far the earliest I’d been to an airport before a flight. My belief had always been that if I have to wait more than 15 minutes before the plane takes off, it’s not worth the extra price to go by air. But this trip was going to be different. No rushing. Besides, Heather had gotten usBusiness Class seats, and on Singapore Airlines, no less. Now, I was finally going to see why all those Conde Nast Traveler readers were always voting Singapore Airlines best in the world, over other perfectly fine carriers such as Valujet (I guess it’s now called Airtran) and USAir(pronounced US Scare). Yessir, those two hours would be put to usein the Business Class Lounge. Visions of an endless wet bar and those cute little triangular sandwiches were dancing in my head as we carted our carryons through the terminal. It was then that Heather explained that we don’t get the Singapore Airlines treatment until we got to NewYork City, as they don’t fly to Philly. No, we’ll be on a Delta flight toNew York. Unfazed, I was still excited to get to those drinks and sandwiches in the Delta Lounge—it was going to be great!

And it would have been great, too, if I had been able to sit down anden joy my freshly prepared gin and tonic. For just as my butt was about to hit the Naugahyde, there was a message for us at the information desk. That’s the first time I’d ever heard my name over an airport PAsystem.Great! Now what?I thought.Heather came running back with the splendid news that the ticket agents had taken the liberty to rebookout tickets—on a flight that was to leave in 15 minutes! We grabbed our bags and bolted for the door. So much for our unhurried departure from the West. So much for my gin and tonic. We hadn’t even gotten out of the country and our trip was turning into an episode of one of those Vacation movies with Chevy Chase!

As we approached the gate we could see the airline agents, who would normally be taking boarding passes from a long line of boarding passengers (there was no line now, as everyone, save ourselves, were already on the plane) frantically watching for something and talkingin to walkie—talkies. They were watching for us! And probably talking to the pilot, Yeah, we see them! Go ahead and start up the engines!This situation has happened to me a few times. With my policy of arriving just as the plane is boarding, I’m bound to be a minute or two late on occasion. Not that I enjoy it. Heading to the gate, I imagine what boarding the plane will be like: the captain and crew all checking their watches and shaking their heads disapprovingly; the entire plane FULLof glaring passengers. And of course, we’ll have seats in the last row, thus making us run the longest possible gauntlet of angry air—travelers.

The door was slammed shut right behind us. We tried to make ourway to our seats as nonchalantly as possible. No one seemed interested in my pleas, It’s not our fault. They rebooked our tickets. I croucheddown into my seat and prepared for the longest flight from Philadelphiato New York City, ever.

***

There it was! Singapore Airlines Raffles Class Lounge The sign was held by a life—size cardboard cutout of a Singapore Girl in full regalia.When you see her standing there in the airport terminal, you can’t help but feel at home opening the door to the Lounge. Yeah, I had finally arrived in this world; finally made it. Singapore AirlinesRaffles Class Lounge I had to look at the sign again, basking in the moment. I swear, for a second I thought I heard a choir of angels singing as I passed under the foyer lights and into…The Lounge.

Excuse me, sir. Do you have a Boarding Pass? I wheeled around tonotice, for the first time, the concierge, who was ready to strong—arm anyone attempting to slip past. And the two of us were suspicious—looking, clad in jeans and sweatshirts. Not knowing what to do, I couldbarely utter Duh, as Heather cooly whipped out the proper writs. Aclose call averted, I settled in for six hours of college football bowlgames. After all, it was New Year’s Eve. That gin and tonic never tastedso good!

2 Singapore Girls and Leather Wallets

It didn’t take long to learn why Singapore Airlines is so highly reveredamong seasoned travelers. Before we had even settled into our seats, wewere asked if we would like drinks. Then came the moist washcloths. This was followed by more drinks, snacks, periodicals, still more snacks,more drinks, headphones, menus, and gifts. All this, and we hadn’t evenleft the tarmac! The gifts were a nice touch: leather wallets embossedwith small Singapore Airlines logos. I’m not sure what Heather will dowith hers. In fact, I don’t know when I will use mine. My current walletseems to have plenty of years of service left in it. After numerous business trips, Heather now has a drawer full Business Class gifts frommany different airlines. All are from famous designer names, but of nopractical use. I think a better gift would be to knock a few hundredbucks off the ticket price. Better yet, just give me the cash when I boardthe plane! A kind of rebate. That way, I won’t have to scramble for anATM in the airport to get money for a taxi.

Finally airborne, the drinks helped us to forget our troubles, now30,000 feet below. While sipping my Singapore Sling (of course!), Irecounted to Heather a certain going—away party—one of many—following the announcement that I was leaving my post at the Departmentof Agriculture. This particular soiree was held at my apartment inFrederick, Maryland. I felt it appropriate to make tropical mixed drinks,as I was moving to tropical Singapore. Furthermore, it was insisted that my departure should be toasted with Singapore Slings. As it turned out,a lot of Singapore Slings. Although everyone’s heard of this concoction,most people (myself included, until recently) actually have never triedone. While a delicious drink consisting mainly of gin, cherry liqueur,various fruit juices, and soda water, it can be messy to make. At leastwhen making two liters at a time. Which was the size of the batches forthis particular going—away party. As most tropical drinks are made offruit juices of various colors and degrees of stickiness—and involve electric blenders—anyone who has thrown a theme party where tropicaldrinks were de rigueur can commiserate with me on the mess. This, however, is only first noticed the following morning—or in my case, the nextafternoon. My ceiling looked like a Jackson Pollock canvas! Fortunately,I moved out of that place shortly thereafter.

Heather didn’t seem to find the retelling of this story to be as funnyas I thought it. She just sipped her Singapore Sling and said, Thoseguys are gonna miss you.

And I was going to miss them, as well.

***

Appetizers? We turned to see a plate being thrust in our directionfrom the flight attendant. There was an assortment of pate, smokedsalmon, and satay. For someone accustomed to getting half a can ofCoke and an unopenable foil bag containing all of five peanuts, I feltspoiled. This actually seemed civilized. Satay, we were explained, was aMalaysian dish very popular in Singapore. As we would be living there,we were assured that we would be able to eat it often. We both thoughtit similar to a Thai dish we had eaten on occasion in Thai restaurants back home. For the most part, it consisted of thin strips of meat thathave been marinated and skewered, then cooked over a charcoal fire.

These sort of shish kebabs are then served with a sauce similar to a soupypeanut butter. Despite my description, it’s actually delicious. In fact, it’squite addictive! Of course, I’m still wondering where those SingaporeGirls were grilling the satay during our flight. Surely charcoal fires don’tcomply with international flight protocols.

Appetizers were followed by dinner with wine. That was followedwith Port. Dessert? I was too full. Definitely the first time I’d ever refused food on a plane…because I was sated, that is. Although too fullfor dessert, Heather insisted that I get one, just so she could try it.Throughout the dinner courses and gift—giving, we were asked everytwo or three minutes if there was anything else we wished. And usuallyby more than one flight attendant—at the same time. It seemed theywere anticipating when we needed something; more wine, etc. I lookedover my shoulder to notice that we were being watched, albeit nonchalantly, by our two flight attendants. As I glanced around the BusinessClass section of the plane, I was dumbstruck at the realization that wewere the only Business Class passengers. Our flight attendants reallywere our own. If I live to be a hundred years old, I’ll probably never havesuch an enjoyable flight!

The Singapore Girl, as the Singapore Airlines flight attendant isunashamedly called, actually holds a highly revered position in theSingaporean workforce, for which the criteria is very selective and competition very stiff. Of course, to us Americans, being called a SingaporeGirl, or an anything—girl for that matter, seems degrading. But that’sbecause we come from a society so preoccupied with being politicallycorrect that the mere mention of someone’s religion, race, gender, skincolor, political party, or favorite baseball team is grounds for unapprobating looks, if not lawsuits. In Asia it’s much different. I suspect it’smuch like the US was in the old days. Although ordinary dialogue inand around Singapore often seemed racist and sexist to us, I’m sure itusually was not intended to be so. For example, colleagues would haveno problem referring to young female colleagues as girls. Except, with everyone there having a British accent, it sounds more like gulls. Areyou gulls coming to lunch with us?

From what I understand, one may be a Singapore Gull for only fiveyears, but following retirement is virtually guaranteed a successfulcareer elsewhere in society. I guess when sending your resume to aprospective employer, all one really needs under Work Experiences isfor it to say Former Singapore Girl and it’s a sure thing. And alongwith meeting very stringent height, weight, complexion, and personality requirements, a Singapore Girl is also a college degree—holder andable to speak English and at least one other regional language. I got thislitany of requirements from job ads commonly seen in the SingaporeStraits Times newspaper. More than their qualifications, I’m mostimpressed with the Singapore Girl’s ability to squeeze into one of thoseform—fitting uniforms. Somewhat like full length pajamas printed in ablue or green or red batik style unique to Singapore, the SingaporeAirlines uniform is universally recognized. I’m certain that the mere siteof a Singapore Girl is bound to put any weary traveler in a better mood.

***

Something woke me from my sleep. Maybe it was the fact that all theinterior lights were coming on and a flight attendant was stickingsteaming wash cloths in our faces. Heather always chides me in disgust,Remember, you’re only supposed to clean your face and hands! Andall because I once gave my armpits a quick wipe—down. Once. And Iwas only joking around…

We looked out the window to see Amsterdam coming up towards us.We had a scheduled stopover there—just enough time for a quickshower in the Business Lounge and back onto the plane before the finalleg of our journey. Just enough time. If we ran.

We bolted from the plane, carryon luggage in tow and made our waythrough the crowded airport to the Singapore Airlines Business ClassLounge. Yet another well—appreciated perk on long internationalflights, is that Business Class Lounges often have showers. The flightfrom North America to Southeast Asia takes more than 20 hours. I don’t care how many steaming—hot wash cloths you’re given, there’s nosubstitute for a bona fide shower. But first you must find the BusinessClass Lounge. With a stopover of only one hour, it’s easy—the lounge isbound to be at the place farthest from your arrival gate! So that’s thedirection we ran. In European airports, unlike our own back home, it’scommon to see military police wielding submachine guns. I don’t knowabout you, but I get an anxious feeling running through an airport witha bag tucked under my arm, right past a small posse of stormtroopers.Nothing to see here officers! It’s just two people running for the showers! And then a few minutes later on our return, hair still dripping—wet, It’s just us again, trying to make our plane!

We arrived back at the gate with two minutes to spare. Ok, so ourhair was still wet. And with all that running, I’d worked up a sweat. Butwe had showered and made the plane before departure. We had beatenthe clock. We had beaten the odds. And best of all, no stares from angrydelayed passengers. I felt like climbing the podium to receive an Olympic medal. They’d probably give it to me on the plane as part ofanother gift.

Then came an announcement. Ladies and gentlemen, reboardingwill be delayed slightly, as the plane requires servicing. Thank you foryour patience. I made my way, past groaning adults and fussy children—all, looking like they could use a cigarette—towards the airlinestaff member that had just made the announcement over the intercom.

Just how long will the ‘slight delay’ be? I asked.

About three hours, she said cheerfully, and added, You see, a partfor the plane must be flown in from Frankfurt. An engine part.

Oh, an engine part. Take your time, I said. Call us in the BusinessLounge when the plane’s ready.

I surveyed the bottles at the bar in the Business Class Lounge. I thenglanced at my watch. Boy, it sure doesn’t feel like 10:00 a.m.! As Heather watched me pour, I assured her that it must be past noon somewhere in the world. Cheers!

***

Ladies and gentlemen, you have just landed at Singapore’s ChangiAirport. Please remain seated until the plane comes to a complete stop.Also, exercise caution when opening the overhead compartments, assome articles may have shifted during take off and landing.

Heather and I looked at each other and said our good mornings. Mytongue felt like a piece of badly—worn shag carpet. During the final legof our flight, my head had spouted tufts of hair in all directions like somany small geysers. And the freshly—pressed clothes we had just puton in Amsterdam, were now so badly wrinkled as to take on the appearance of a relief map of the French Alps. Of course, the Singapore Girlsall looked as fresh as when they showed up for work. Hair perfectlycoiffed; not an eyelash out of place. Not even one of those wrinkles youget on the side of your face—you know—when you sleep with your faceall scrunched up on the shoulder of the passenger beside you. So thereis little wonder why every young girl in Singapore aspires to be aSingapore Girl when she grows up!

3 Arrival

Singapore Changi Airport. It’s just as it had been described to me. The airport is immense; the largest in Southeast Asia. The first thing the traveler notices in Singapore, especially when arriving from an extended stayin any other Southeast Asian country, is how clean the island nation is.This hits you immediately in the airport. Everywhere I looked appearedto have been scrubbed, sanitized, and polished recently. And there areorchids blooming throughout the airport. We passed scores of Duty Freeshops, eateries of all sorts, and huge wall—sized aquaria, presumablystocked with fish caught right offshore. Coming down the escalatortowards the Immigration kiosks, it finally hit me that we were in a verydifferent country. We were in Asia. We would be living in Asia. A huge sign reads Selamat Datang, as well as Welcome in three other languages.

The much—praised Changi Airport has got to be the most efficient and well—organized airport in the world. In the time it takes to walkfrom the plane to the strategically located rest rooms, to the Immigration(which takes about two minutes to get through), then on to the BaggageClaim, the luggage is already coming out! And forget the horror storiesyou’ve heard about Singapore Customs, we just breezed through theNothing to Declare lane without so much as a look in our direction.

In total, it takes less than 15 minutes to get through the airport. Butthat’s assuming you make no stops in the Duty Free shops for liquorand other essentials. If you plan on staying any appreciable amount oftime in Singapore, I guarantee you will want to stop in the Duty Free shop, at least for liquor. I’ll explain this and other costs of living inSingapore later.

Through Customs, we saw a man holding a sign that read HeatherJorden Bunyard. I figured that’s got to be for us. I’m accustomed towatching or listening for my wife’s name, as she is usually the one tomake arrangements, sign all legal documents, and handle matters oflegal or any other importance (for example dinner reservations). Theman was a representative of The Ascott—Singapore, a serviced apartment. We announced our arrival to him. He immediately pulled outhis cellular phone and called a van to pick us up. Everyone in Singaporehas a cellular phone. Everyone. No matter where you are, there is theincessant chirping of cell phones. At the beach. In the zoo. On thecrowded sidewalks, people constantly bump into one another, preoccupied with the conversation they’re having with someone across town—no doubt, also strolling along a crowded sidewalk, talking into a tinyphone and bumping into everyone. Probably most annoying to me iswhen cellular phones ring inside a movie theater. I’m not kidding. Nomatter that it’s the big climax scene from the movie Romeo and Juliet,someone will be sitting there beside you chatting away on a portablephone! Everyone’s chatting on these phones, no matter the location.And a good time to call someone, seems to be while riding on the subway. Yes, even underground, the phone conversations continueunabated! When travelling to Singapore, you will know when you havearrived. For, before the plane has finished taxiing to the terminal, yourarrival in Singapore will be proclaimed by the chirping of everyone’scell phones—inside the plane!

***

The drive from the airport to our new home was uneventful. Thecleanliness and orchids in bloom that greet you when you step off the plane into the airport, continue outside along the paved arteries of thecountry. You have the immediate feeling that there is a plan to all this.The highways leading into the downtown are lined with bougainvilleaand royal palm trees, extending for miles. Also extending for miles arethe government—built public housing units. Looking like somethingout of Ceausescu—era Romania, but freshly painted in happy pastelcolors, the Housing Development Board (HDB) apartment flats cluster like small high—rise cities at every subway stop, and pretty mucheverywhere else in this densely populated island nation. The roads arecongested with yellow or robin’s egg blue taxi cabs. And Mercedes—Benzes. Nevertheless, the traffic always moves along very orderly. I’mconfident road rage would be a puzzling concept to Singaporeans.

We weren’t certain where we would be living. About all Heather hadbeen told was that our apartment building was called The Ascott—Singapore. We hadn’t seen any Ascott on any map or in any book aboutSingapore. We had seen a Scotts Shopping Center, while perusing maps,located at the corner of Scotts Road and Orchard Road. That should be in the vicinity of our place, we figured. (We had been told that we wouldbe right on Orchard Road.) The Scotts Shopping Center is one of themost notable buildings in the country. Situated between the HyattRegency and Marriott hotels, the Scotts is shaped like a giant ramp forOlympic ski jumping. The expansive base of the building tapers upwardin a smooth curve towards the top. As it is smack in the middle of themost famous shopping area in Singapore, and arguably the world, wehad seen many photos of the Scotts. Surely, the Scotts Shopping Centerand The Ascott were not one and the same. But as the lorry (as trucksare known is these parts) drove us into the downtown—there it was, theScotts Shopping Center! And we were heading right for it! Heather andI looked at each other with hopeful anticipation. Could this be The Ascott? It was too good to be true! But, sure enough, the driver pulled into the parking garage and, rather than going up the ramp toParking, proceeded straight ahead and stopped in front of elegantdouble glass doors that proclaimed The Ascott—Singapore. Thingswere starting to look up!

***

The doorman, expecting us, opened the door and welcomed us toSingapore. I stumbled into the lobby of, what seemed to be an eleganthotel. At the time, I still wasn’t sure that we had arrived at the correctaddress. I felt it possible the lorry driver had made a mistake. He didn’tseem to understand English too well. During the ride from the airport,whenever we spoke to him he simply responded with, Oh yes, verynice. I continued stumbling and daydreaming—how much sleep had Igotten in the last 48 hours? Obviously, not enough—

Britt! I turned to see Heather, several members of the Ascott staff, andnumerous residents all staring at me, lost in my own little dreamworld.Come over here to get your key and to sign some documents.

While off enjoying myself, Heather had already taken care of the legalities, been told the hours of operation for the pool, breakfast, etc., etc. Isauntered over and signed a couple pieces of paper. There! Now, it was adone deal! (I know the only reason Heather has me sign something oncein a while is to keep my male ego from withering.)

***

It only took us a few minutes to get settled into our new confines.Our apartment was much like a hotel suite; totally furnished and with acomplete kitchen. The place was small but nice.

Within moments the tone would be set for the rest of our stay in TheAscott. I should explain that The Ascott—Singapore is one of severalserviced apartments in Singapore. For a greatly inflated price, you getmaid service daily. The bed is made and used bath towels are replacedwith fresh ones. So, it’s much like a hotel. With the added bonus that thedishes get washed, too. Serviced apartments are very popular with theexpatriate workers living in Singapore on their employer’s dime. And, at$8,000 per month, large corporations are the only ones capable ofshelling out that kind of rent! But the service doesn’t end with cleansheets and towels. Nooooooo. Throughout the day, maids are comingand going to clean the bathroom, vacuum the carpet, dust the bookshelves, or any number of other tasks. Several times, during our stay atThe Ascott, the electric hot pot in the kitchen was replaced with a newone. I’m not kidding. We could never figure out what was wrong with the old one. I mean, it’s only used to boil water for tea. As long as itboils water, that’s about all I need it to do. In addition to the maids coming and going, there would be a visit or two, daily, by the supervisor—presumably, to make sure that the maids had been coming and goingwith enough frequency. The service was always announced with theringing of the doorbell. Which was followed with a two second pause,before the master key was used to let themselves in. Even if I wouldattempt to answer the door, I would be too late. Sitting around, readingthe newspaper in my boxer shorts was out of the question!

And so our doorbell rang for the first time. It was a group of verydark—skinned Indian men. They had brought our luggage up from thelorry. In addition to personal effects taken on the plane, all our otheressential items were shipped from the US to Singapore by boat. Butthose things would not arrive for a few weeks. The men deposited our bags and left as quickly as they had arrived.

Within minutes the doorbell was ringing again. It was the managerfrom downstairs. As best as I could figure, he would be handling ourmoving—in. Along with a clipboard and checklists, he brought up a wicker basket. Thinking it a picnic basket (and being a bit peckish fromthe long flight—what time was it, anyway?) I graciously offered tolighten his load. He opened the basket and, to my surprise, took out apot of tea and Chinese—style tea cups. Despite the fact that I’d not bereceiving any sandwiches, the tea service was nice. We soon came tolearn that in Southeast Asia business is always conducted over tea.

One sip of tea and he was ready to get down to business. We werehanded full color brochures of an apartment that looked just like ours.Why I needed this I couldn’t figure; I could look around me to see whatan Ascott apartment looked like. We were also given the Rules andRegulations, a lengthy set of volumes, that I’m only now half finishedreading. There were many rules and regulations. But we would soonlearn that a big part of life in Singapore is rules and regulations.Allowing us to have another sip of tea, the manager then proceeded tothe kitchen, clipboard in hand, and showed us where everything waslocated. The kitchen was completely furnished and the managerchecked off everything in turn: pots, pans, and of course a wok. Therewere wine glasses but no water glasses. The dishes were Wedgewoodchina. Looking back, I’m still amazed that few things were broken during our stay.

We were reminded about the maid service, pool hours of operation,that fitness facilities were next door at the Marriott Hotel—we could geta pass from the concierge—and that complimentary breakfast wasserved every morning during the workweek. I turned to Heather, Areyou sure that I have to get a job? Her eyes rolled; I was dismissed. Andwith that, the manager left us to get settled.

After a few minutes of unpacking, I felt like settling in for a nap.Heather was too tired to argue.

***

We slept for a few hours.Waking,I noticed the clock.10:00 p.m.Wethought it best to get up and go for a walk. If we didn’t go back to sleepuntil later, we felt our internal clocks might stand a better chance ofbeing reset to Singapore—time. And maybe stave off the effects of jetlag. Besides, I was dying to do some sightseeing. And with a little luck,maybe I would find some dinner.

We headed up Scotts Road, away from the noise and commotion ofOrchard Road. The entire downtown was illuminated, nearly as brightas midday. Scotts Road, although not as raucous as Orchard, was just asbrightly lit. Tall trees line the downtown streets, their wide branchingcanopies touch overhead and supported long strands of tiny light bulbsthat shimmered just above the traffic, passing below. Clearly,Singaporeans go all out to celebrate Christmas. In fact, excessively so.We walked past all sorts of shop windows depicting winter scenes (apuzzling concept when it’s 11:00 p.m. and 85 degrees!) and all sorts ofstyrofoam monstrosities: Santas with reindeer, Santas in designer clothing, Santas in swimsuits, and snowmen of every description. There werefaux cathedral facades on the front of shopping centers. Huge Chinesedragons and old men (maybe Confucius or famous kings). And giantgoldfish—I never did figure that one out! There were giant snow—covered Christmas trees everywhere. But in true Singaporean fashion,everything is made from brightly colored plastic and styrofoam.

We continued walking until we arrived at a brightly lit outdoor foodcourt. This particular hawker center was Newton Circus, the oldest inSingapore. Being the oldest and most famous, it’s very popular with thetourists. Being famous for extremely—overpriced seafood, it’s verypopular with the Japanese tourists. But for us, it was all part of our firsttruly Asian experience. Newton Circus is a great place to go for sightseeing. There are huge reddish—black mangrove crabs, their claws tiedwith twine. There are beautiful lobsters, similar to Florida spiny lobstersin that they have no large claws, but in colors of green and red andblack. And prawns, nearly as big as the lobsters! Plus many types of fish: sea bass, snapper, mackerel, pomfret, stingray, and large squids.Everything is fresh, sitting in ice at each of the small stalls manned by atwo person team. One person cooks in a huge wok over a gas fire. Theother person hassles you into making a purchase, Hello? Yes? Have alook sir. Very fresh! You like fish? Or maybe prawn? I cook for you withrice and veg—i—table—very nice! Look…if no good, you no pay!

Such were our first impressions of Singapore!

4 1.22N, 103.45E

In and Around Singapore, Part I

We could hardly contain ourselves when we learned that our move toSoutheast Asia was about to become a reality. Of course, we couldn’twait to tell everyone. So, whether over the phone, at the going—awayparties, or over the Christmas holiday, the well—wishes had been prettymuch the same, So, you’re really going to live in Singapore? That’sgreat! Of course, this was followed by smiles all around and then aftermuch thought, one of the two of us would say something evocative like,Yeah…that’s right. We’re going to be living in Singapore.

Invariably, someone finally would get up the nerve to ask us next,So…just where is Singapore, anyway? Of course, this brave soul wasnever alone; most people intrigued with our future overseas, admittednot knowing exactly where Singapore is located. Best guesses seemedto range from somewhere in Malaysia to part of China, or about tobecome part of China, anyway. The latter comment obviously drawnfrom confusion with Hong Kong.

To set the record straight, I’m confident that everyone I know is now knowledgeable of Singapore’s geographic location, and probably severalother points of interest about the place. That Americans have so littleidea of where Singapore is located, or anything else about the countryfor that matter, is understandable. The country is a tiny island nation, not much bigger than Manhattan Island in New York City. It is on theexact opposite side of the planet from us. Outside the financial pages,the place rarely gets mentioned in the newspapers. There are never anycalamities or natural disasters. The government is exceptionally stable.Postal workers there are not predisposed to go berserk with automaticweapons. Schoolchildren do not shoot classmates at school. Their athletes never win any major competitions. Singapore has produced fewmajor artists, musicians, screen performers, writers, scientists, inventors, or philosophers. And given its history of stability and absence ofconflict, combined with small population size, few Singaporeans turnup in the United States. At least, compared to many other ethnicities. Asexamples, many major cities in the US have a Chinatown or othercommunities predominant in a given ethnicity: Italian, Jewish, PuertoRican, Cuban, Mexican, Polish, German, Irish, Thai, Ukrainian,Vietnamese, Korean, Greek, Russian, etc. Often, large exoduses resultedfrom civil unrest or war, with many taking flight to the US and elsewhere to make a better life for themselves. As a result, we all are familiarwith and, in fact, the US has been influenced by the customs, cookingstyles, languages, and other facets of the cultures of the country of origin for the peoples listed above. But with few of us Americans encountering a Singaporean, the place remains more of a mystery. So it wasn’tsurprising that no one knew what to expect or what we might findthere. Nevertheless, everyone couldn’t wait for us to go, Be sure to sendlots of photos and postcards!

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Geography

Singapore is a small island at the southern tip of peninsular Malaysia.The Straits of Johor, less than a mile wide, separates Singapore from Malaysia, although the two are linked by a causeway. Although anisland, the causeway allows Singapore the distinction of being thesouthernmost point of continental Asia. It is strategically located atthe turning point on the shortest sea route, via the Straits of Malacca,between the Indian Ocean and the South China Sea.

Singapore is comprised also of around 58 other small islands, islets,and reefs. (I say around because the number is being reduced, as landreclamation projects succeed in fusing islands that were once separate.)Two of the few islands that are inhabited, include Ubin Island to thenortheast, off Changi Point, and Sentosa Island, a popular playland to thesouth. Across the Strait of Singapore to the south begin the islands of theRiau Archipelago of Indonesia.

After living there, it’s even more difficult for me to realize just howsmall Singapore is. With its population of 3.1 million and huge economic output, it certainly gives the impression of being larger. Andbased on the Singaporean’s own perception—they seem to have no ideahow much smaller they are than, say, the US—you actually begin tothink the island is as big as any other country. But despite the fact thatthe island does continue to increase in size due to the rampant landreclamation—I’ve heard figures in the range of 5% of the country isreclaimed land—Singapore’s land area totals 247 square miles. The areaof the city of Los Angeles is nearly twice as much. Singapore measures amere 14 miles north to south (just slightly longer than ManhattanIsland) and 26 miles West to East. The highest point in the country?Well, that would be atop one of the tallest skyscrapers downtown.Which are taller than the highest natural point, Bukit Timah Peak, at anosebleed—inducing 541 feet high. In fact, most of the country isbarely more than 30 feet above sea level.

Located about 90 miles north of the equator, the climate in Singapore is very tropical. It is about 90 degrees Fahrenheit most days with a stickyrelative humidity at 96% (around dawn) and around 85% for the dailyaverage humidity. The summer months, March to July, are the hottest and driest, with little rain. In contrast, the winter months fromNovember to January can be somewhat cooler—though we didn’t noticeit!—and are much wetter, the result of the Northeast Monsoon. Duringthis time of the year, downpours lasting an hour or two in the late afternoon, occur for weeks and seem to drop several inches of rain (to a footor more) everyday.

The tropical conditions mean that wherever there is a green space(surprisingly, there are a few), there is a potential for lush jungle. In fact,Singapore is one of only two cities in the world to have a genuine tropical rainforest (the other is Rio de Janeiro, Brazil). Although estimated atcovering 83% of the island before its discovery, by the 1880s about90% of the forest had been cleared. Today, relatively little remains.About 50% of Singapore’s land is now covered by concrete! Of course,most of the native plants are gone as a result. The most commonly seenplants (frangipani, travelers’ palm, and bougainvillea) are introduced ormanmade hybrids. There are countless varieties of orchids bloomingjust about everywhere. Except for some monkeys, monitor lizards, andcrocodiles, all of the large animals are gone, as well. Despite the name—Singapura (Sanskrit for Lion City)—no sightings of lions have beenclaimed since the 13th century, and that was more likely a tiger. By theway, the last wild tiger in Singapore was shot in 1930.

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History

Now I come to the boring topic of history. If, while reading this book,you are pressed for time, you may want to just skip right over this section! But, if you have nothing better to do, Singapore’s history is prettyshort and painless.

Although probably inhabited by native peoples for the past 2,000years, there remains little recorded history until more recent times.Originally known as Temasek, or Sea Town, the island may have beendocumented by Chinese sailors from as far back as the 3rd century.Following the decline of a large Sumatran empire in the 13th century,the island and its geographic position gained importance. During thistime, Marco Polo visited Sumatra and noted a thriving city that historians believe was Temasek. By the 14th century, Temasek had become animportant stopover point for trade ships plying the surrounding waters.It is also at this time that the island came to be known as Singapura.Excavations at modern day Fort Canning Hill are ongoing, and havefound remains, possibly from the small trading empire ruled by theSumatran royal family. Singapura, the Lion City, was likely to have beenfrequented by pirates, as the region’s islands served as redoubts andstaging areas for attacks on the numerous ships sailing along the important trade route between the Indian Ocean, South China Sea, and thePacific Ocean beyond. The prosperity of Singapura was short—livedhowever, as it was conquered by invading Siamese armies fromAyutthaya (now Thailand) and the Javanese armies of the MajapahitEmpire. The Majapahit Empire eventually conquered much of theregion, especially Indonesia. Following its plunder, Singapura remainedmostly uninhabited, supporting only a few Orang Laut, or People ofthe Sea, making a living from fishing or piracy, for the next 400 years.With the bankruptcy of the Dutch East India Company during theNapoleonic Wars in the early 1800s, the British East India Companybegan expansion into the former Dutch colonies throughout SoutheastAsia. In 1819 Sir Stamford Raffles landed in Singapore to establish atrading post there. He remained on the island less than one week—allthe time necessary to strike a deal to rent the island from the Sultan ofJohor, Abdul Rahman, who ruled over the surrounding region.Stamford Raffles left for Sumatra, where he became a regional governor.Nevertheless, he is given credit for discovering the territory and is now

immortalized in Singapore; his name is seen throughout the islandtoday. The British acquired the island by treaty in 1824 and made it acrown colony in 1867. Establishing Singapore as a major trading post,the British brought in large numbers of Indian convicts and indenturedservants, and encouraged Chinese laborers to emigrate to the island. Bythe middle of the century, the percentage of the population comprisedof native