I just figured out how link my phone to our blog, so now I will plan to post a picture a day to our blog. Tomorrow, key day-we get our condo keys and have to take laborious pictures of every nook and cranny of the condo to document all of the dinks and scratches. Otherwise, we will be responsible when moving out in 22 months. I guess normal wear and tear isn't the norm hear (ha, ha). Have a great day-we are off to bed!
A quick side note: got my hair cut off today. It was just too hot, and I have way too much hair. Got approval from the whole fam!
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Singapore zoo
Last Friday, we had breakfast with the orang utan (space is on purpose- I think it is in the right spot). We then had an amazing day at the zoo-fantastic vegetarian Indian lunch too!
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Apprehensive
Not sure if I want to download the app that uses my phone to show me where I am in Singapore. I have thought about it a lot, even to the point of having it ready for purchase, only needing to tap the screen, just one little tap. . . and have curled my index finger back each time. There is something in me--and I am sure it is because I am an English major through and through--that eschews the use of technology for an Occam's razor-like clarity in everyday life.
In other words, I like a bit of uncertainty. I like the human element. I'm not convinced we need to know everything that the tech world can show us (he wrote on his blog).
Several times since arriving, I have relished the idea of being uncertain about where I am and learning to navigate the subtle, mysterious, difficult, and earned cartographic ecology of a new city. To feel the city rather than know it--maybe that is my goal. Having lived in Denver for 20 years, I didn't have to think about where I was anymore; I could get anywhere without becoming lost, ever because of the time I spent getting lost during my first years as a resident. I "felt" Denver because I had lived in so many parts of it and had used a bike (sans car, that is) in my 20's there. I knew what each streetcorner looked like, what hills were steepest, where to cut through. I still remember well the awe I felt the first time I rode down 32nd to Irving to Speer and, sensing the city was close, rounded the soft corner by the Denver Zen Center just west of Federal and saw Denver lit up and radiant and waiting for me across the Speer Boulevard bridge.
With a phone app, there's not a lot of work involved to know a place. Just look at the screen, and it will tell me the best way from A to B by train, by walking, by taxi, and by bus as well as how long it will take me to get there or how long I'll need to wait. I can even find out where the coffee shops are along the way (or whatever else I might want to find). Where's the fun in that? Where's the "feel" in that? I might have missed that first glimpse of Denver if I had been staring at a phone app (though this was 1993, so I wouldn't have had the option anyways).
Oh, the humanity!
In Denver, 32nd and Lowell feels a helluva lot different to me than Speer and Market. Arapahoe and Aurora Parkway feels much different to me than Dayton and Belleview. 88th and Wads does not feel the same as 44th and Wads, nor does that feel the same as 6th and Wads. Neither does Hampden and Kipling vs. 3nd and Kipling. Or . . . 17th and Broadway vs. Broadway and Evans or 3rd and Detroit vs. 2nd and Fillmore . . . each makes me think of different times, different events, different people, different experiences. Different weather, even.
I want the same feelings here, but it will take a while.
No App for now, I think. I'll be the guy asking questions or walking in the wrong direction.
* * * * *
I ate a cup of avocado ice cream last night. It had a sweet and savory flavor--not as terrible as you'd think. Leigh had a bite and almost barfed. Ethan and Laney would not try it and acted as if it were kryptonite (and it looked kind of like kryptonite, actually).
* * * * *
Watching the Olympics through the Singapore feed is such a pleasure and a relief. I do not have to endure all of the NBC-style framing of events and athletes and "storylines." It's a bit like watching the Olympics if they were presented by CSPAN rather than corporate America. No narrative. No propagandistic, stirring music. No commentary, no background info. No Costas or anyone else. Few commercials. Rarely-seen countries (on American TV, that is) competing on-screen: for instance, I watched a Bangladeshi gymnast and a Ukrainian shooter last night. I kept thinking, "Those guys would have never made it to prime time back home." Downside: Olympics begin late here and are on through the night. I would have had to stay up until 4 a.m. to catch swimming events.
Yin and yang, Olympic-style.
* * * * *
Had coffee and buttered toast this morning at a kopitiam that has been open since 1915. It cost about two dollars US. The coffee was dark, thick, and sweet and served to me on a saucer with a spoon. The toast was hot and sugary. The service was brusque--perfect for my morning mood--I don't like chit-chatting in the mornings at all. I think they'll be open another 97 years if they keep it up, and I'll be back soon.
* * * * *
Another new teacher and I were talking about how well we have been treated by SAS since arriving last week. She then said, "I hope it's not like The Firm at the beginning, you know?" That made me laugh and then nervously scratch my neck.
But seriously, folks: teachers are treated differently here (at least so far) than we are back home. Much, much more on that to come. I feel that the two-column diagram of US/Singapore teaching differences might become a heartbeat for this blog. Who knows.
We begin our first formal work day tomorrow morning, 8 a.m. Cannot wait.
* * * * *
In other words, I like a bit of uncertainty. I like the human element. I'm not convinced we need to know everything that the tech world can show us (he wrote on his blog).
Several times since arriving, I have relished the idea of being uncertain about where I am and learning to navigate the subtle, mysterious, difficult, and earned cartographic ecology of a new city. To feel the city rather than know it--maybe that is my goal. Having lived in Denver for 20 years, I didn't have to think about where I was anymore; I could get anywhere without becoming lost, ever because of the time I spent getting lost during my first years as a resident. I "felt" Denver because I had lived in so many parts of it and had used a bike (sans car, that is) in my 20's there. I knew what each streetcorner looked like, what hills were steepest, where to cut through. I still remember well the awe I felt the first time I rode down 32nd to Irving to Speer and, sensing the city was close, rounded the soft corner by the Denver Zen Center just west of Federal and saw Denver lit up and radiant and waiting for me across the Speer Boulevard bridge.
With a phone app, there's not a lot of work involved to know a place. Just look at the screen, and it will tell me the best way from A to B by train, by walking, by taxi, and by bus as well as how long it will take me to get there or how long I'll need to wait. I can even find out where the coffee shops are along the way (or whatever else I might want to find). Where's the fun in that? Where's the "feel" in that? I might have missed that first glimpse of Denver if I had been staring at a phone app (though this was 1993, so I wouldn't have had the option anyways).
Oh, the humanity!
In Denver, 32nd and Lowell feels a helluva lot different to me than Speer and Market. Arapahoe and Aurora Parkway feels much different to me than Dayton and Belleview. 88th and Wads does not feel the same as 44th and Wads, nor does that feel the same as 6th and Wads. Neither does Hampden and Kipling vs. 3nd and Kipling. Or . . . 17th and Broadway vs. Broadway and Evans or 3rd and Detroit vs. 2nd and Fillmore . . . each makes me think of different times, different events, different people, different experiences. Different weather, even.
I want the same feelings here, but it will take a while.
No App for now, I think. I'll be the guy asking questions or walking in the wrong direction.
* * * * *
I ate a cup of avocado ice cream last night. It had a sweet and savory flavor--not as terrible as you'd think. Leigh had a bite and almost barfed. Ethan and Laney would not try it and acted as if it were kryptonite (and it looked kind of like kryptonite, actually).
* * * * *
Watching the Olympics through the Singapore feed is such a pleasure and a relief. I do not have to endure all of the NBC-style framing of events and athletes and "storylines." It's a bit like watching the Olympics if they were presented by CSPAN rather than corporate America. No narrative. No propagandistic, stirring music. No commentary, no background info. No Costas or anyone else. Few commercials. Rarely-seen countries (on American TV, that is) competing on-screen: for instance, I watched a Bangladeshi gymnast and a Ukrainian shooter last night. I kept thinking, "Those guys would have never made it to prime time back home." Downside: Olympics begin late here and are on through the night. I would have had to stay up until 4 a.m. to catch swimming events.
Yin and yang, Olympic-style.
* * * * *
Had coffee and buttered toast this morning at a kopitiam that has been open since 1915. It cost about two dollars US. The coffee was dark, thick, and sweet and served to me on a saucer with a spoon. The toast was hot and sugary. The service was brusque--perfect for my morning mood--I don't like chit-chatting in the mornings at all. I think they'll be open another 97 years if they keep it up, and I'll be back soon.
* * * * *
Another new teacher and I were talking about how well we have been treated by SAS since arriving last week. She then said, "I hope it's not like The Firm at the beginning, you know?" That made me laugh and then nervously scratch my neck.
But seriously, folks: teachers are treated differently here (at least so far) than we are back home. Much, much more on that to come. I feel that the two-column diagram of US/Singapore teaching differences might become a heartbeat for this blog. Who knows.
We begin our first formal work day tomorrow morning, 8 a.m. Cannot wait.
* * * * *
Friday, July 27, 2012
Anthropomorphic
Rare morning: we had breakfast with the orangutans at the Singapore Zoo. So yeah: there's a program called Breakfast With The Orangutans. We signed up for it. The tour bus came and picked us up and brought us, along with about 200 other non-Singaporeans, there. All were hungry.
The breakfast for the humans was delicious and plentiful: think cruise line or all-inclusive resort buffet. Then the orangutans--moms, babies, aunts, uncles--climb down a tree and sit at their table and eat their breakfast next to the humans, right there. No walls. Just about five feet of space. The orang-utan (which means "jungle man" in Malay; the first Malay tribesmen thought the apes were actually another tribe and thus named them the jungle men for their dexterity) table is kind of like the table for a wedding party in that it is sort of raised and away from the riff raff. The riff raff was cautioned not to do several things that would naturally occur to such raff in the given situation: do not try to pet the apes; do not climb up and try to eat with the apes; do not feed the apes human food because it will make them sick; do not give the apes a human baby to hold for a photo, etc etc etc. It dawned on me that people had tried all of these things and more at previous bwto's.
There was no question in my mind who was more elegant and graceful and dignified and calm during the breakfast. You should have seen the traffic jam at the hash brown samovar! And here's the strangest part: when the half-hour breakfast time with the beautiful and mythic creatures was over and they were allowed to climb back to their sanctuary and away from the savages, the crowd seemed to lose all interest, as if watching an orangutan eating breakfast from a distance of five feet was what one should expect to see at the zoo and that, say, watching an orangutan clan climb and swing gracefully and with otherworldly strength from the ropes and branches hundreds of feet up and just beyond the breakfast area was simply routine. Old hat. Boring. Non-breakfasty. Not interesting enough to take the trouble to crane one's neck towards.
I was disappointed in my species.
****
The zoo: if you ever come to Singapore, I'm taking you to the zoo. I'll spare you many of the details, but let's just say that I saw a 3-meter long (jade green) king cobra, a 7-meter long and 1/2 meter thick Burmese python, a sun bear, two white Bengal tigers, a 75-year-old giant tortoise (who stared me down while chomping grass loudly enough to hear each jaw contraction), the rare Douc monkey (which has eight colors) in a clan of at least 15, five Indian elephants, and those boring old breakfast orangutans.
****
Here's something that's really Singaporean: we bought furniture at Ikea yesterday for our new place. We cannot move into the condo until Thursday, August 2. So, at the end of the delivery arrangements at the Ikea delivery counter, the man asked when we could take the delivery. I said August 2. He said that that was four days after they could actually deliver it and that he would need to charge me a storage fee of S$20 (about US$18) per day. I said, "But I just bought this furniture from your warehouse right there" (pointing to my left at the giant Ikea aisles of furniture) and now you are going to charge me to hang onto it for a couple of days when it would have been right there anyways had I not bought it?" "Yes," came the reply. "That is the fee." His stare was even. I stared back.
Had it not taken us five hours to navigate buying and arranging the delivery of the Ikea furniture, I would have returned it all and then bought it again on Wednesday, August 1.
Singapore! Oy vay.
********
One of the first funny things that happened to us: we were eating in a restaurant on our first day here. The waiter, an elder gent, came to take our order. Since we had been sitting down for maybe 19 seconds, we said that we would need just a moment to look at the menu. He very kindly said, "No problem" and stood there staring at us. We got the hint and picked up the menus to decide on our orders under his watchful eye. I could see E and L giggling.
********
Callie has two more days left in quarantine. We have been visiting her each afternoon during the visiting hours at Sembawang Animal Quarantine Facility, from 2-4 p.m. (sharp). It's funny to see all the red-faced, sweating Westerners coming to visit their pets from 2-4 at the Sembawang Animal Quarantine Facility. We are of a kind, it would seem. No ID needed. We look the part. Westerner! Sweaty! Red!
********
Brag: took the 138 crosstown bus from the west side of Bukit Timah to Ang Mo Kio and used my NETS card after topping it up to jump on the 5 train towards Woodlands and got off at Khatib to walk to Sembawang Quarantine through Bottle Tree Park and the AVA facility.
Nine days ago, that would have made absolutely zero sense to me.
********
I could watch the tankers and trawlers--massive, leviathan vessels--off the east coast of the island at sundown forever.
The breakfast for the humans was delicious and plentiful: think cruise line or all-inclusive resort buffet. Then the orangutans--moms, babies, aunts, uncles--climb down a tree and sit at their table and eat their breakfast next to the humans, right there. No walls. Just about five feet of space. The orang-utan (which means "jungle man" in Malay; the first Malay tribesmen thought the apes were actually another tribe and thus named them the jungle men for their dexterity) table is kind of like the table for a wedding party in that it is sort of raised and away from the riff raff. The riff raff was cautioned not to do several things that would naturally occur to such raff in the given situation: do not try to pet the apes; do not climb up and try to eat with the apes; do not feed the apes human food because it will make them sick; do not give the apes a human baby to hold for a photo, etc etc etc. It dawned on me that people had tried all of these things and more at previous bwto's.
There was no question in my mind who was more elegant and graceful and dignified and calm during the breakfast. You should have seen the traffic jam at the hash brown samovar! And here's the strangest part: when the half-hour breakfast time with the beautiful and mythic creatures was over and they were allowed to climb back to their sanctuary and away from the savages, the crowd seemed to lose all interest, as if watching an orangutan eating breakfast from a distance of five feet was what one should expect to see at the zoo and that, say, watching an orangutan clan climb and swing gracefully and with otherworldly strength from the ropes and branches hundreds of feet up and just beyond the breakfast area was simply routine. Old hat. Boring. Non-breakfasty. Not interesting enough to take the trouble to crane one's neck towards.
I was disappointed in my species.
****
The zoo: if you ever come to Singapore, I'm taking you to the zoo. I'll spare you many of the details, but let's just say that I saw a 3-meter long (jade green) king cobra, a 7-meter long and 1/2 meter thick Burmese python, a sun bear, two white Bengal tigers, a 75-year-old giant tortoise (who stared me down while chomping grass loudly enough to hear each jaw contraction), the rare Douc monkey (which has eight colors) in a clan of at least 15, five Indian elephants, and those boring old breakfast orangutans.
****
Here's something that's really Singaporean: we bought furniture at Ikea yesterday for our new place. We cannot move into the condo until Thursday, August 2. So, at the end of the delivery arrangements at the Ikea delivery counter, the man asked when we could take the delivery. I said August 2. He said that that was four days after they could actually deliver it and that he would need to charge me a storage fee of S$20 (about US$18) per day. I said, "But I just bought this furniture from your warehouse right there" (pointing to my left at the giant Ikea aisles of furniture) and now you are going to charge me to hang onto it for a couple of days when it would have been right there anyways had I not bought it?" "Yes," came the reply. "That is the fee." His stare was even. I stared back.
Had it not taken us five hours to navigate buying and arranging the delivery of the Ikea furniture, I would have returned it all and then bought it again on Wednesday, August 1.
Singapore! Oy vay.
********
One of the first funny things that happened to us: we were eating in a restaurant on our first day here. The waiter, an elder gent, came to take our order. Since we had been sitting down for maybe 19 seconds, we said that we would need just a moment to look at the menu. He very kindly said, "No problem" and stood there staring at us. We got the hint and picked up the menus to decide on our orders under his watchful eye. I could see E and L giggling.
********
Callie has two more days left in quarantine. We have been visiting her each afternoon during the visiting hours at Sembawang Animal Quarantine Facility, from 2-4 p.m. (sharp). It's funny to see all the red-faced, sweating Westerners coming to visit their pets from 2-4 at the Sembawang Animal Quarantine Facility. We are of a kind, it would seem. No ID needed. We look the part. Westerner! Sweaty! Red!
********
Brag: took the 138 crosstown bus from the west side of Bukit Timah to Ang Mo Kio and used my NETS card after topping it up to jump on the 5 train towards Woodlands and got off at Khatib to walk to Sembawang Quarantine through Bottle Tree Park and the AVA facility.
Nine days ago, that would have made absolutely zero sense to me.
********
I could watch the tankers and trawlers--massive, leviathan vessels--off the east coast of the island at sundown forever.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
A Sense of Scale
Now that I am walking everywhere, my sense of scale is changing. Kind of like the math concept that shows us how proportions are equal despite size of object (the same sort of idea as weight classes for wrestling or boxing), my walking is proportional to what my driving was in the 'burbs. There is a difference, however: I'm tired as hell and sore as can be.
Living in lush, manicured suburban confines with wide streets built (and planned) for cars has not made me a walker. I thought I was a walker--hey, I walked Callie for 20 minutes each night--but sadly, I have a long way to go (pardon the pun). I walked with Leigh and the kids for about eight hours yesterday (taking care of various things ) and by the time I got back to the hotel room, all I could do was lay on the floor like a hurting heap of lactic-acid marbled meat. My feet festered. My hammies hemmed and hawed. My glutes were glue. The Achilles' tendons ached. Even my lower back begged mercy. The rest of the family, frustratingly, seemed just fine.
(Cue "Eye of the Tiger" opening bars) But, I am a fighter. And I AM a walker. I will become strong! I will be able to walk like a Singaporean . . . by October. Maybe November. OK. Winter Break.
*****
We will find ourselves at various times in local street restaurants with not a lot of options appealing to American children, and each dish is advertised in photos above the counter--you can see it.. Leigh and I have taken to joking with the kids about some of the choices we are going to order them: fish head soup with black bean sauce (with the poor fish staring at us); curried octopus with rice (tentacles menacingly snaking out of the bowl); chicken feet/foott soup. We think it's hilarious. The kids are growing weary of our antics.
*****
Had to get a physical for the employment pass. The Singaporean doctor did not say much to me, so I asked him: "How's my health?" and he started doing this thing like he was lifting barbells. I thought it was a good sign! I said, "I am strong, right?" And he glowered and said, "No. You need to work out."
*****
Watching the kids begin to navigate the MRT on their own is deeply satisfying.
*****
The celsius scale is starting to make sense to me without having to go "28 = 82" in my head. It's going to be 32 today. Or 33.
*****
Watched a game show for 20 minutes last night, and I have absolutely no idea what it was about. When I turned it off, the several contestants were whacking each other with styrofoam swords.
Leigh's thoughts
Sitting at starhub right now, waiting for a rep. To help me with a refund on my phone deposit. Could be awhile, but I don't mind. It's wonderful people watching and like everything here, it's in a mall, so I feel at home. The shopping here is indescribable; I had been warned, but I wasn't prepared for the enormity of it. You can find everything you want and/or need from high end to low end. Bargains seem to be available, but pretty much everything is about 20% more than in the states and I haven't found the outlets-yet. Tomorrow we will head to ikea to furnish our condo-kids in loft beds and us in a queen. We could go king again, but then we would have room only for the bed-we plan on a few end tables too. White or light sofa to mask Callie hair :).
We are trying to visit Callie every day, and she longingly gazes at josh. She loves when we all go, but when I tried to take the leash and walk her a bit, she just ran back to josh. Not sure when move-in day is, but Callie may have to reside at the pet hotel for a few days. The quarantine facility is wonderful, so I am sure the kennel will be good too. We take the mrt/subway every day, and it is a little walk. We are trying to build up our stamina in the walking department as we are going to try relying on the mrt while here despite most of our expat colleagues already procuring a car. I am not opposed to the car idea at all-I am not judging them. I would like to try the walking thing for awhile, hoping it will help the waistline and pocketbook! On that line, it was really amazing to get a place to live under budget-could be the first time ever. With the extra housing allowance, a helper may be in the future. If a female is single raising a family or both parents work , there are tax breaks for having a helper-sounds like a pretty sane way to support working families.
More later-josh just got here with his new phone!
Monday, July 23, 2012
Dreams
I dreamed that we were back in Colorado and had decided at the last moment not to come to Singapore. In the way dreams are for me, each realization of the decision led to another problem of not coming here after having decided to do so. So, we told our friends, and then we told our bosses, and then I realized in the dream what an opportunity we missed by not coming here. In the dream I went out for a night of hard drinking with my high school friends who were now adults, and I kept saying to them, "You just don't understand." The setting for the debauch was some sort of governmental building, and I kept leaping out of the ground floor windows onto the grass outside. It was the early morning in the dream.
I was glad to wake up.
Went running this morning and serendipitously found the Singapore Botanic Gardens and so ran in. It was as beautiful as anything named the Singapore Botanic Gardens would be; just imagine it and you've got it. Inside were pods of people exercising in the different pocket parks throughout. Many of the pods were old Chinese Singaporeans doing T'ai Chi (I think I got the apostrophe right), but other pods were twenty- and thirty-something westerners being led through P90-X-type workouts with stern-looking, spandexed trainers. The juxtaposition of cultures in that bucolic setting was stark and funny to me.
On the subway yesterday to see Callie (who has six days of quarantine to go), it lurched a bit coming to a stop at a station. A very old and very small Malay Singapore man next to me who was waiting at the door started to fall. I reached out and caught him under the arm and held him up. He looked at me and said, "Thank you," and smiled and then went on his way. Human instinct.
The children of the new teachers here have started to make friends with each other. As we sat on a tour trolley yesterday, the adults listened intently to the tour guide's diatribe. The children sat outside of the air con cabin at the back of the trolley and, as we wound our way along Beach Road and through little quays, sang pop songs together with gusto.
To have a housekeeper or not to have a housekeeper: that is the question.
It's funny: many of the families here are coming from non-western places like Taipei or Hong Kong or Jakarta or Shanghai and, because of what Singapore offers, can live in a middle class way with a house, a yard, and a car for (perhaps) the first time. They are very eager for that. We, on the other hand, are moving in the opposite direction and relish the idea of an apartment with no yard work and a very excellent pool, a short walk to shops, and a subway stop. We are very eager for that. Funny.
When one gets a to-go drink in Singapore, one does not get a sleeve on the drink to hold it upright. Of course, there is a different, Asian way to do it instead. The server will put a little plastic handle around the middle of the cup so that you can carry it as it hangs down. Much easier and more convenient for walking. Will post picture.
There's a colonial building at the end of the lane of our current hotel, and I learned that Japanese officers lived there from '42 to '45 when Singapore was part of Japan.
The trees here grow to hundreds of feet tall and have canopies of leaves just as wide. I regret that after a while, I will probably stop feeling awe at the sight of them, but maybe not. I saw a banyan yesterday that was impossibly complex, root-wise. Never did a tree look so alive. It looked like it belonged in Yoda's swamp.
IKEA is pronounced "icky-uh" here. Heading to Ickyuh Thurs for furniture.
I was glad to wake up.
Went running this morning and serendipitously found the Singapore Botanic Gardens and so ran in. It was as beautiful as anything named the Singapore Botanic Gardens would be; just imagine it and you've got it. Inside were pods of people exercising in the different pocket parks throughout. Many of the pods were old Chinese Singaporeans doing T'ai Chi (I think I got the apostrophe right), but other pods were twenty- and thirty-something westerners being led through P90-X-type workouts with stern-looking, spandexed trainers. The juxtaposition of cultures in that bucolic setting was stark and funny to me.
On the subway yesterday to see Callie (who has six days of quarantine to go), it lurched a bit coming to a stop at a station. A very old and very small Malay Singapore man next to me who was waiting at the door started to fall. I reached out and caught him under the arm and held him up. He looked at me and said, "Thank you," and smiled and then went on his way. Human instinct.
The children of the new teachers here have started to make friends with each other. As we sat on a tour trolley yesterday, the adults listened intently to the tour guide's diatribe. The children sat outside of the air con cabin at the back of the trolley and, as we wound our way along Beach Road and through little quays, sang pop songs together with gusto.
To have a housekeeper or not to have a housekeeper: that is the question.
It's funny: many of the families here are coming from non-western places like Taipei or Hong Kong or Jakarta or Shanghai and, because of what Singapore offers, can live in a middle class way with a house, a yard, and a car for (perhaps) the first time. They are very eager for that. We, on the other hand, are moving in the opposite direction and relish the idea of an apartment with no yard work and a very excellent pool, a short walk to shops, and a subway stop. We are very eager for that. Funny.
When one gets a to-go drink in Singapore, one does not get a sleeve on the drink to hold it upright. Of course, there is a different, Asian way to do it instead. The server will put a little plastic handle around the middle of the cup so that you can carry it as it hangs down. Much easier and more convenient for walking. Will post picture.
There's a colonial building at the end of the lane of our current hotel, and I learned that Japanese officers lived there from '42 to '45 when Singapore was part of Japan.
The trees here grow to hundreds of feet tall and have canopies of leaves just as wide. I regret that after a while, I will probably stop feeling awe at the sight of them, but maybe not. I saw a banyan yesterday that was impossibly complex, root-wise. Never did a tree look so alive. It looked like it belonged in Yoda's swamp.
IKEA is pronounced "icky-uh" here. Heading to Ickyuh Thurs for furniture.
1st meeting with Callie
We visit Callie every day; visiting hours are from 4-6, so we've been taking the MRT and walking to the quarantine facility. Callie would love to leave with us...it's hard to say farewell each day, but we don't have much longer until she is released!
Our new home
The hallway to the bedrooms and "study".
Washer/Dryer outside the kitchen.
Kitchen cabinets next to the stove; we have an oven too-not always standard in Singapore homes.
Master bath pictures.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Little India
We went to the Little India neighborhood of Singapore: it's a lot more like the Asia I remember, less like the spit-shined, manicured, and Versace'd streets I've seen down Orchard Rd. so far. Cannot wait to return when we have more time--I saw some South Indian vegetarian restaurants that look fantastic. Favorite moment of the day: standing on the curb/kerb with Leigh drinking fresh coconut water through a straw out of recently-hacked-open-with-a-machete coconut.
Starting to feel ready to settle down more and live less "touristy." Ready to have a home here. Ready to stop going out for meals each day. Ready to shop in a market, read a book on the couch, meet neighbors, find a favorite running path, find a rhythm.
On my run this morning was reminded of the exact same light I remember from runs in Athens, GA, in college. Heavily shaded lanes with high boughs which give the light a blue/green/grey tint. Ran past the EU ambassador's place. Schwanky.
12 kilos of laundry washed, folded, and dried by the fine folks at Professional Laundry = S$125.00. You read that right. I told everyone we needed to start wearing our clothes more times.
Befuddled a Belgian family by speaking my limited--very limited--French to them in the elevator. Americans don't know French! Mme. Rubin, my 9th grade teacher, would be tres proud. Tres, tres joyeux avec moi.
I finally, FINALLY, ate at one of those conveyor belt sushi restaurants. I've been waiting all of my life for the experience. It was better than I could have hoped. Employees shouted greetings as I entered. I ate six plates of sushi and when I was finished, the chef in the middle beamed at me and screamed, "Six plates!" I do not know exactly what he meant, but I took it as a compliment.
I asked Ethan to rate Singapore on a scale of 1-10, and he said 5,487,193. Laney has been doing this thing saying, "My feet are stuck to the ground. You have to move me so that I can begin to move." It's cute for a little while.
There's an incredible array of talcum powders to prevent chafing here in humid old Singapore. It is necessary for men, believe me. I bought Snake Brand Prickly Heat Cooling Powder in a side shop. I was reluctant to put anything with the words Snake and Prickly Heat down my pants. I was pleasantly surprised and am considering buying stock in the company.
**********
On a sad note: the events in Aurora have depressed me so much; I cannot believe what has happened, and yet I can, because of the madness that seems to creep in on the edges of all societies (Anders Breivik last summer; the VA Tech guy a few years ago; the school shootings that happen regularly now). I feel so badly that this lunatic has besmirched our good name; I feel so badly that this lunatic has probably changed moviegoing--something I cherish--forever; I feel so badly that this lunatic hurt so many families in our community. Will Aurora ever be the same? I don't know. I don't think that Columbine has ever been the same--it's always there, at the edge of our consciousness when we drive over that way. You know that you're "close to Columbine," or whatever. Even people who went there, you say, "He went to Columbine." You say to your partner, "Oh, there's where we went to the memorial for Columbine" when you pass it as you're car shopping a decade later. Maybe that will be Aurora, now, too. Sad, sad, sad times for our home. Terrible. Unspeakable.
Starting to feel ready to settle down more and live less "touristy." Ready to have a home here. Ready to stop going out for meals each day. Ready to shop in a market, read a book on the couch, meet neighbors, find a favorite running path, find a rhythm.
On my run this morning was reminded of the exact same light I remember from runs in Athens, GA, in college. Heavily shaded lanes with high boughs which give the light a blue/green/grey tint. Ran past the EU ambassador's place. Schwanky.
12 kilos of laundry washed, folded, and dried by the fine folks at Professional Laundry = S$125.00. You read that right. I told everyone we needed to start wearing our clothes more times.
Befuddled a Belgian family by speaking my limited--very limited--French to them in the elevator. Americans don't know French! Mme. Rubin, my 9th grade teacher, would be tres proud. Tres, tres joyeux avec moi.
I finally, FINALLY, ate at one of those conveyor belt sushi restaurants. I've been waiting all of my life for the experience. It was better than I could have hoped. Employees shouted greetings as I entered. I ate six plates of sushi and when I was finished, the chef in the middle beamed at me and screamed, "Six plates!" I do not know exactly what he meant, but I took it as a compliment.
I asked Ethan to rate Singapore on a scale of 1-10, and he said 5,487,193. Laney has been doing this thing saying, "My feet are stuck to the ground. You have to move me so that I can begin to move." It's cute for a little while.
There's an incredible array of talcum powders to prevent chafing here in humid old Singapore. It is necessary for men, believe me. I bought Snake Brand Prickly Heat Cooling Powder in a side shop. I was reluctant to put anything with the words Snake and Prickly Heat down my pants. I was pleasantly surprised and am considering buying stock in the company.
**********
On a sad note: the events in Aurora have depressed me so much; I cannot believe what has happened, and yet I can, because of the madness that seems to creep in on the edges of all societies (Anders Breivik last summer; the VA Tech guy a few years ago; the school shootings that happen regularly now). I feel so badly that this lunatic has besmirched our good name; I feel so badly that this lunatic has probably changed moviegoing--something I cherish--forever; I feel so badly that this lunatic hurt so many families in our community. Will Aurora ever be the same? I don't know. I don't think that Columbine has ever been the same--it's always there, at the edge of our consciousness when we drive over that way. You know that you're "close to Columbine," or whatever. Even people who went there, you say, "He went to Columbine." You say to your partner, "Oh, there's where we went to the memorial for Columbine" when you pass it as you're car shopping a decade later. Maybe that will be Aurora, now, too. Sad, sad, sad times for our home. Terrible. Unspeakable.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
thoughts
There have been several moments since arriving when I'm simply happy to be experiencing the moment I'm in, a feeling I had lost for a while. Watching Ethan and Laney and Leigh ride up a dizzyingly-long escalator from the depths of the subway while somehow being ringed with artistic rainbows across the bucky-balled interior roof. Laughing incredulously about the atomic-level spiciness of a curry dish. Thinking about our new neighborhood--Ang Mo Kio--and the markets, the library, the parks, the shopping. Waiting for school to start and to meet my students and colleagues.
We will live in an apartment tower for the first time, a tower with a poetic name: Grandeur 8. Apartment 1302. It's almost new and has remote-control air conditioners in each room. It also has a bomb shelter, de rigueur for all Sing apartments. I told the kids that's where they'll be if they don't do what we tell them to. They didn't think it was very funny. Leigh said that's where I'll sleep when we have an argument. I didn't think that was very funny.
My eyes have been snapping open at 3 a.m., no matter how tired I feel. I lay awake for about an hour, waiting for my body to relax again and return to sleep. There's an adrenaline that mixes with jet lag. I can't wait to wake up again to learn more, but I'm sooooo tired.
The equatorial heat which I had feared is bearable, just. It's like living in Atlanta in the summer--you have to know how to manage it. Mornings and evenings are fine. Being outdoors in the mid afternoon is madness.
Singaporeans follow rules like no other group of people I've ever seen before. My critical-thinking American psyche is at odds with this. I watch crowds stand patiently for the walk sign beside an intersection with no traffic, and I think, "This is crazy." I see a sign that says "no eating or drinking," and nobody--I mean nobody--is eating or drinking. There is an acceptance of authority that I am waiting to understand, that maybe I will gain insight into over time. It's comforting to know I won't be pickpocketed anywhere.
We're staying off Orchard Road for now. Orchard Road is the Rodeo Drive of SE Asia. The shops--Rolex, Tod's, Versace, Chanel, Louis Vuitton, and all the rest--are definitely way out of my league, but it's great for people watching. Fantastic people watching. World class. The beauty of most folks on Orchard Road is staggering. It's a fashion show.
Then there's the real Singapore, the Chinese and Indian and Malay Singapore that sells you a plastic cup of ice cream with a biscuit in it for 50 cents. It makes you a Halal breakfast with curry and black coffee and wishes you a good day. It speaks to you in English and Mandarin all mixed up while somehow making basic sense. It has subway stops called Khatib, Yo Chi Kun, and Admiralty.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
We four Curnetts and our dog Callie are moving indefinitely to Singapore in a few weeks. The kids are 11 and 9; we've been married 13 years and are both 42. The rescued dog's seven, we think. We have a finished basement as well as a butler's pantry and live on a cul-de-sac and drive a Volvo wagon to soccer games. I know Costco's layout like the back of my hand, and buying a box of 64 frozen taquitos (or 64 frozen anythings) there does not freak me out any more. I watch way too much "good" TV. All trashcans are green here and stand sentinel at the beveled curb every Thursday morning, except for holiday weeks, when we push the day back to Friday, and I chuckle at the poor fools who forget and have their trash out for two consecutive days. New moms pushing expensive prams along well-maintained sidewalks at 10 a.m. is commonplace in the neighborhood, as is the 6 p.m. ingress of high-end vehicles with mostly-male drivers wearing undone ties and straight-across mouths.
I'm sure I've seen John Cheever's ghost at neighborhood parties.
I can see where all of this is going, I think. Hey, I'm an English major.
It's time. It's really time.
Now.
Singapore, lah! I've had the talismanic merlion (below), symbol of the Tiger City, on my desktop for six months. I really need to stand there, there beside the statue, maybe even on the blue base that looks like waves. I might stand there for an hour when I finally get there, really stand. I imagine the water spout to be very loud. I imagine my kids will shout over the spray, "Dad! Let's go!" and I will shout back, "No. This is the merlion. Stand and be awed."
There have been few challenges to get ready to leave. The hardest part of all was the decision itself. Everything post-decision has been fine--really manageable. Decision day, however, made me weak in the knees. Telling my boss that we were moving to Singapore and that I'd be leaving my job after 14 years was one of the scarier things I've ever done. I remember exactly the October morning light that was coming through the windows as I told Dave. I remember exactly what I was wearing. I remember thinking, "This is real now. This isn't something we just talk about."
Days turned into weeks turned into months, and everything became ok. It wasn't scary any more. I remember running post-decision on a golf course early one morning in February through crunchy snow drifts and realizing that our future was going to be different and feeling absolute joy for the first time in a long time--maybe a couple of years. Fist-punching joy. Screaming joy. Weird guy jumping for joy on the 10th hole fairway joy. Joy. Freedom. Change. Novelty.
Singapore. Singapore! Singapore? Why Singapore?
I'm sure I've seen John Cheever's ghost at neighborhood parties.
I can see where all of this is going, I think. Hey, I'm an English major.
It's time. It's really time.
Now.
Singapore, lah! I've had the talismanic merlion (below), symbol of the Tiger City, on my desktop for six months. I really need to stand there, there beside the statue, maybe even on the blue base that looks like waves. I might stand there for an hour when I finally get there, really stand. I imagine the water spout to be very loud. I imagine my kids will shout over the spray, "Dad! Let's go!" and I will shout back, "No. This is the merlion. Stand and be awed."
There have been few challenges to get ready to leave. The hardest part of all was the decision itself. Everything post-decision has been fine--really manageable. Decision day, however, made me weak in the knees. Telling my boss that we were moving to Singapore and that I'd be leaving my job after 14 years was one of the scarier things I've ever done. I remember exactly the October morning light that was coming through the windows as I told Dave. I remember exactly what I was wearing. I remember thinking, "This is real now. This isn't something we just talk about."
Days turned into weeks turned into months, and everything became ok. It wasn't scary any more. I remember running post-decision on a golf course early one morning in February through crunchy snow drifts and realizing that our future was going to be different and feeling absolute joy for the first time in a long time--maybe a couple of years. Fist-punching joy. Screaming joy. Weird guy jumping for joy on the 10th hole fairway joy. Joy. Freedom. Change. Novelty.
Singapore. Singapore! Singapore? Why Singapore?
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