Sunday, July 10, 2005

Singapore: Caned What it Used To Be




















Just a quick note regarding the previous entry... apparently one of the sky-divers in the Air Force didn't open his parachute in time, snapping his ankles in front of 25,000 school children. I guess there is a need for rehearsal.

Today we started the day by going down to Chinatown, a few subway stops out of the retail jungle called Orchard street. Peggy had found an interesting tradition where locals take their pet birds to mingle with other pet birds at the Bird Arena. They get their morning coffees, grab a chair and hang what looks like little finches in their cage. Word is, they get some birds that are having difficulties singing to listen to the more musically-inclined birds to pick up some of their habits. Secondarily, it is a way to show off their cages and bird furnishings.

Across the street was the wholesale pet shop (a small shack), where you could put together an ensemble worthy of 'hanging with da locals'. Cage was about USD$50, bird was about $75, the miniature, bird-sized ming vases (I'm not making this up) were also about $75 each. Having your finch learn to chirp with the best: priceless.



















After bumping around the river walk area, seeing where Lord Raffles first set down in Singapore, we subwayed out to the park on the Eastern side of the island. Subways are cheap and very efficient here. It feels more like an airport terminal tram than a light rail system. There is a noticable presence of military, given the attacks in London this week as well as the International Olympic Committee being in session. Trains run every five minutes or so, escalators move at a blinding speed and there is a positive air of cordial behavior. You'd be cordial too if there were machine guns being toted around.

The park was certainly the cure for what ailed us. Plenty of locals out enjoying (what started out to be) great weather and a day at the beach. There were fisherman, skim boarders, rollerbladers, bikers and wind surfers all recreating the Indonesian way. One oddity was the humour in watching a large number of S'pores learn to rollerblade. Given the fact that there are no ice rinks here, they didn't have the whole gliding concept quite down yet. It was like the bunny slopes at Squaw Valley, slapstick comedy waiting to happen.

We rented two bicycles and did the three or four mile trail along the Eastern coast, stopping for some suger cane juice, satay, carrot cake (which contained zero carrot, just a mix of egg and turnip) and for desert, snow cone with mango sauce, tapioca medley and beans. Not a band lunch at all for $10. The exposure to the sea showed us what kind of ship traffic comes in and out of this city. I mean region. I mean country. There must have been 100 cargo ships in the strait, perched to offload their supplies. This is the oil that keeps the engine of the retail juggernaut churning.

I used to think that the Internet was the greatest aide to comparison shopping out there. That was, until we came here. To be able to leverage one shop against dozens like it only steps away must make the life of a propritor very difficult. With the suit tailoring, I used one store to research the fabrics and get a gauge of the costs, another to give me an idea of what an expected turn around time might be, and eventually contracted with the third using knowledge gained from the other two. The thing is, these three shops were on the same floor of the shopping mall, adjacent to one another. Not sure how they establish their price baselines, since the haggle system is still very much in place.

On our way home from the coast, we got caught in a monsoon and discovered that S'pores just take whatever their doing and move it underground when it rains. Odd thing was, as we arrived at our station, people were having full-on picnics in the stairwells of these subway stations. At least a half-dozen families had their checkered blankets opened up, sitting back with bowls of fish and cabbage just out and munching away. I can see wanting to duck for temporary cover (as a few hundred did), but they carried on as if there was no difference at all between being in the park outside and being camped at the top of an escalator. We got absolutely drenched in the walk back to the hotel, so I guess we are certainly none the wiser.

Tonight we're headed off to a recommended restaraunt called Broth, back o'er in Chinatown. This will be our first sit down meal that has not come from a hawkers cart and we're looking forward to experiencing some of the Indo-Asian cuisine.

posted by ncawthon at 7:31 PM