From the Philippines, I flew to Singapore. This article combines several visits to Singapore.
Flying into Singapore, one cannot help but notice the expanse of container ships lurking outside the Port of Singapore, the world’s busiest port (the first of many Singaporean “superlatives”). See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_countries_by_GDP_(PPP)_per_capita. Like a massing invasion force, the fleet of ships is an impressive sight to behold, but it also tells you something about Singapore. This tiny city-nation of just 683 square kilometers – about the same size as the city of Chicago – is an economic powerhouse, a remarkable feat considering its limited natural resources and humble beginnings.
The history of Singapore is entangled with that of Malaysia, which includes rule by a Buddhist Empire and a renegade Hindu prince, the introduction of Islam by Indian Muslim traders, the invasions of Melaka by the Portuguese in the 16th century and by the Dutch in the 17th century, the establishment of a British colony (the East India Company) at Penang in the 18th century, all culminating in the year 1819 when Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles pissed off the Dutch by establishing a British trading colony at Singapore. The Dutch were assuaged five years later when the Anglo-Dutch Treaty gave the Dutch control of present-day Indonesia while the British retained the Malay Peninsula and Singapore. By then, Singapore had absorbed Buddhists, Hindus, and Muslims among others, and its free-port status attracted Chinese, Malay and Indonesian businessmen.
Singapore’s population expanded rapidly along with its harbor. The Japanese invaded in 1942 and committed their usual atrocities. When the war ended, Singapore, Malaysia and Brunei were granted independence as the federation of Malaysia, from which Singapore was expelled in 1965. Lee Kuan Yew (profiled recently at www.nytimes.com/2010/09/11/world/asia/11lee.html?pagewanted=all), a Cambridge-educated lawyer and socialist, took over the reins of the fledgling city-nation and ruled it for a quarter century, and his party (the People’s Action Party, or PAP) continues to rule Singapore today, engineering a society that boasts one of the highest standards of living in the region. Whichever ranking you choose – the CIA’s, the World Bank’s, or the IMF’s – Singapore’s gross domestic product (GDP) in terms of purchasing price parity (PPP) is higher than that of the United States. See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_countries_by_GDP_(PPP)_per_capita. In plain English, modern Singaporeans have a higher standard of living than my fellow Americans, which should surprise a few of them.
After seeing its port from the air, my next indication of Singapore’s prosperity was its ultra-clean, ultra-modern international airport, amenities of which include a children’s playground, medical clinics and pharmacies, spas and gyms, live music lounges, free showers, free local calls, free city tours for transit passengers, a swimming pool and Jacuzzi, houses of worship, and even a nature trail. The airport is not just one of the best airports you’ll find. It’s the recipient of THE World's Best Airport Award 2010, another Singaporean superlative. See www.worldairportawards.com/Awards_2010/Airport2010.htm.
From the airport I connected to the well-organized, ultra-clean, modern mass rapid transit (MRT) system, which puts nearly all other transit systems to shame. All signs and announcements are in four languages, including English. Visual and aural indicators on the train cue not only the next station but also which doors will open. I liked the fact that each station and exit has an alphanumeric code, so you could schedule a meeting at an exact station and exit using a code, which is just what I did.
On my first visit, I was met at an MRT station by Ali, a young gay Muslim expat from India working as a management consultant in Singapore. Ali had opened his home to me through the website http://www.couchsurfing.org/, a fantastic organization that matches up “surfers” or travelers like me with locals willing to take in travelers or just show them around. Ali had a comfortable guest room and, given his diverse background, we had several great cross-cultural conversations over dinner and beers – no doubt exactly as the founders of Couchsurfing had envisioned. I now count Ali as a friend.
While I’m on the topic of transit and Ali, I also have to include for you an excerpt from my journal about my taxi-ride from Ali’s place to the airport when I left Singapore that first time, something usually so mundane that I wouldn’t even waste journal space:
January 24, 2010: I had possibly the best taxi ride to an airport ever. I was picked up . . . by an older man driving a new Mercedes Benz, who avuncularly asked if I had my passport and ticket. Then he inquired about my flight and called Singapore Airlines to confirm the details and departure terminal. At the airport, he wished me a good trip and that I return to Singapore. All this service for barely USD $11.
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My main purpose in visiting Singapore (my first time) was to eat and, well, try a Singapore Sling. Singapore is an amazing place to eat, with extremely affordable Chinese, Malay and Indian cuisines, among others. My first night in town, I set out for the opulent Raffles Hotel, an architectural icon from the 19th century. The Singapore Sling was invented here in 1915, so I saddled down in the large empty billiard room (apparently I was supposed to be in the Long Bar) and ordered one. I’m not a big fan of sweet drinks, and the Singapore Sling came a bit sweet for my palate, not to mention a bit rich for my blood at $20 (American dollars) for one drink, so I can’t say I loved it.
The grounds of the Raffles Hotel were a little rich for my backpackerness, so I went wandering in search of something more down-to-earth, and I found it. Rochor Original Beancurd (established 1960) had a line of young people into the street, so I jumped into line before I even knew what exactly they served. What they served for less than a dollar were delicious beancurd drinks and desserts, only slightly sweet but amazingly refreshing on a hot summer’s, winter’s - I don’t know what season it was supposed to be here, but it was hot - eve. I recommend it, even over the Singapore Sling.
Then I wandered and ate my way through the neighborhoods that night and over several days – Indian food in Little India (not so little really), Chinese food in Chinatown and along Waterloo Street, Malay and Muslim food here and there and in the “hawker centres.” I had an all-you-can-eat Indian meal for about $5. I visited the Maxwell Food Centre and ate Hainanese chicken rice at Tian Tian, recommended by Anthony Bourdain.
I wandered and ate peanut soup, omelets of calamari and oysters, grilled stingray and other fish dishes, roast duck, soups and noodles, various desserts of jelly-like things, beancurd, ice and sweetened milk. I ate and I ate – I ate at every opportunity and upon the flimsiest of excuses. I drank dragon fruit and other fruit juices. I wandered along Boat Quay, a riverfront restaurant area apparently fashionable with the many expats working in Singapore, where I tried ice creams with flavors like sea salt and caramel, black sesame, chestnut, and durian. Most main dishes cost just a couple of dollars, which provided cover to try several different dishes in one sitting.
Eventually I also got up the nerve to try durian fruit itself. Now I’ve described durian in past reports, but it’s worth mentioning it again. Durian is a largish, prickly fruit with the consistency of custard or thick cream and a smell like, well, you can actually google “what does a durian smell like” and sort it out yourself. I’ll save you a visit to Wikipedia and crib a few descriptions of the smell, any one of which seems about right to me. British novelist Anthony Burgess wrote that eating durian is “like eating sweet raspberry blancmange in the lavatory.” Chef Andrew Zimmern compared the taste to “completely rotten, mushy onions.” And travel and food writer Richard Sterling called the odor of durian “pig-shit, turpentine and onions, garnished with a gym sock.” Hmmm, onions again. But my favorite description of the forbidden fruit goes to Anthony Bourdain, who in his usual colorful style called the taste of durian “indescribable, something you will either love or despise. . . . Your breath will smell as if you’d been French-kissing your dead grandmother.” See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Durian. Sorry grandma!
Indeed durian is a forbidden fruit of sorts. The MRT and many hotels post signs forbidding the fruit because of its pungent smell. It’s not cheap either. A good durian can cost more than USD20 (or else we got ripped off when my ad hoc travel companions and I purchased one for $25). On a later trip to Singapore, I continued satisfying my durian cravings and tried durian chee cheong fun (rice roll) at Rice Roll & Porridge on Killiney Road. I enjoyed durian, but it’s so creamy and rich that it felt indulgent, something to be consumed only occasionally, like a flourless chocolate cake or a Cohiba.
Singapore is also known for shopping, so my first night there, I wandered into Mustafa Center at 1:30 in the morning to find the multistory market-like mall still doing brisk business. For more upscale shopping, Orchard Road is one upscale mall after another. As Lonely Planet advises, “dive in, or run screaming.” I ran screaming.
Yeah, OK, this is the problem with writing about modern cities. Unless you get mugged or see a bomb go off, it really just comes down to a list of places you visited (unless you ride the NYC Subway, in which case you are guaranteed a great story). Anyway, let’s fast-forward through the list: I visited and got quite lost in the Singapore Botanical Gardens (recommended), the Singapore City Gallery (which details how the city transformed itself into the beautiful metropolis it is), the superb Asian Civilizations Museum (of which I especially noted the following: the headhunter shield covered in human scalps, the statue of the emaciated Buddha (because he’s usually fat), and the Hindu lingams with heads and faces), and the National Museum of Singapore (my only legible notes on it are “air conditioned”). There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?
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What I saw and tasted of Singapore, I quite enjoyed. Of course there were places outside the city center that I missed. I also appreciated the friendly locals who were quick to converse with me or share a table and a meal (but like overworked city-dwellers in many parts, they were quicker to hand out their email addresses than to actually respond to my emails). I especially enjoyed the city’s diversity of ethnicities, religions, languages, and food, and that everyone seemed to get along swimmingly. The diversity and great walking reminded me of New York City, only newer, cleaner, more humid, and less expensive. You might find a mosque down the street from a Hindu temple across the street from a Buddhist temple all surrounded by great restaurants.
As for its reputation, a reality check: Singapore’s streets are not litter-free, and no there’s not a cop on every corner watching for spitters (in fact I can’t recall even seeing a law-enforcement officer outside of the airport), and I did manage to sneak sugarless gum into the country. But many aspects of the city do live up to the hype. It’s generally clean and well organized, without being stifling. You can jaywalk while chewing gum if you really want to.
I recommend Singapore for its food, cultural diversity, ease of travel and connections, fantastic airport, and generally as an example of what government employing the right mix of free-market and social welfare policies can do to better the lives of its citizens.
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