Singapore Blues?

Setting--Home office, in a condo in Singapore

Time--Late evening, winter 2010

Dana enters the room, sits at her computer, and timidly begins a new blog entry. It has been months since her last one, and she isn't sure where to start. She stares at the screen for a few moments, then begins.

It has been so long since my last entry, I won't even pretend to try to catch you up. So let's just start fresh, shall we?

So. A new year. 2010. It certainly doesn't seem like 10 years have passed since the whole Y2K scare. And it doesn't seem like almost 7 months have passed since arriving here. I some ways it seems like we've been here much longer. But then I have a bout of Singapore Blues, and I feel like I'm still a newb.

Singapore Blues. It's a rare ailment, but one that does rear its head from time to time. I usually feel quite comfortable here in our new home, this island/city/country. But occasionally things start getting to me.

Like malls. Enough with the malls! Everything utilitarian that you might need here is in a mall. Want to hit the grocery store? Go to the mall. Need to go to the bank? Go to the mall. Pharmacy? Mall. DIY store? Mall. I mean, I get it--the island is so small, and space is limited, so they build up. And I know that there are places tucked away in little-known nooks where you can get some things. But this ang mo doesn't know where those might be, and she doesn't have the chutzpah to wander into the depths of, say, Little India, to find these gems. So she continues to go to the box stores in the malls.

And another thing. Where do you find decent Chinese food in this place?? Scott and I find ourselves asking each other this all the time, joking, yet not joking. Of course we know that there's obviously plenty of great Chinese food in this place, with a population that is 75% Chinese. But there's just not...you know...American Chinese food. THE GALL! Don't they know that there are lowbrow Americans jonesing for some General Tso's Chicken and Beef Chow Fun to be delivered to their doorstep? So you Americans out there, thumbing through the 8 different menus from various restaurants that have been rubberbanded onto your front doorknobs, effortlessly picking up the phone and having your hot and sour soup and orange chicken and eggrolls in front of you 30 minutes later--did I mention that there's very little delivery here?--appreciate what you have! And be thankful that it's not fried chicken feet.

Then after I wallow in the Singapore Blues for a while, I shake myself and remember that I am only here for a short time, and that all too soon I'll be sad to leave this wonderful place. I don't want to waste my time lamenting what I don't have. I want to appreciate and embrace what is right here in front of me.

So I leave you with this little vignette: recently we took the kids to lunch at a restaurant here called Brewerkz. It's a restaurant-slash-microbrewery, and it's basically an American burger kind of joint. I was in the ladies' room with Hannah, helping her wash her hands, and as I looked in the mirror, I saw the reflection of a squat toilet* in a stall behind me. Simultaneously, I heard from the loudspeaker above:

There's a tear in my beer, cuz I'm cryin' for ya dear

You are on my lonely mind.

My two worlds came crashing together in that moment. It was absurd, yet comforting in a way too.



*Yes, it still throws me off when I open a stall and see one of these.