Pasir Ris Park is a large, expensively manicured beachfront area on the Northeast side of S'pore. Some of its attractions include: a hedge maze, a boardwalk over a mangrove swamp, many bicycle paths, a jet ski rental, and a pool where you can try to catch crabs with a fishing rod. We went there a few Sundays ago with our German friend, Henning, and were surprised at how few people were there. True, the beach isn't the cleanest for swimming but the same could be said for the always-busy East Coast Park.
Last weekend we had a company "team-building" gathering at the NTUC (government conglomerate) chalets at Pasir Ris and this provided some insight as to why the park is under utilized. I now have two theories. Theory one is that everyone out that way is inside the NTUC compound swimming in the large clean swimming pools there, barbecuing at the many grills, or most importantly, popping into the air conditioned chalets to watch television out of the hot sun. The place is packed with picnickers until late into the night.
Theory number two is that almost all Singaporeans have experienced "team-building" work gatherings at the Pasir Ris chalets, so they avoid the adjacent park due to negative connotations. OK, I'm exaggerating a bit because the past weekend wasn't too bad. The vast majority of my co-workers are extremely pleasant people and easy to get along with. I don't even mind the idea of sacrificing a weekend in order to foster a more positive relationship with my co-workers. However, despite being bombarded with organizational memos for weeks, including spreadsheet documents listing the program timeline and each individual's duties, all events (mainly "team-building" games and eating) were so badly organized that I spent vast quantities of my valuable free time listening to people endlessly rehashing logistical details. It's not as if these people are uncooperative either. Quite the contrary, they are anxious to do anything asked of them. They are simply not managed very well!
OK, so they are disorganized. That in itself could be tolerated and forgiven, so once again my biggest beef with Cold Storage is with their cheapness and their inconsiderate attitude towards their employees. Not only do they expect us to trek to the outskirts of the island to become better employees, they make us pay for the privilege. We were each charged S$20, plus admission to the NTUC compound (S$2 per person per day). On top of that we were expected to provide our own transportation, bring a potluck dish to a Saturday dinner, and some people (fortunately not myself) were cajoled (arm-twisted might be a better adjective) into purchasing additional food at an early morning wet market. This from a company that owns one of the largest supermarket chains in Singapore!
My colleagues responded without a hint of complaint. I baked a few chocolate cakes for the potluck and thought I had gone beyond the call of duty by providing homemade goods. Most of my work mates far surpassed my efforts. They lugged in large cauldrons of homemade curry and bee-hoon, delicious salads and rice dishes, and time consuming appetizers. The potluck food was more than enough to feed everyone, so what was our S$20 contribution for? The bulk of that money is currently sitting on the desk of John Heng (my boss's boss). I'm sure we'll be seeing that real soon. ;-)
OK, enough of my whining. I'm not very happy about some aspects of my company though. They continually try to get the most out of their employees while minimizing what they give back to them.
Finally got over to Yew Chong's place to see the new baby. Mother (Pui Ying) and son (Jen Wei) are both looking fine and doing well. Jen Wei had just undergone the traditional head and eyebrow shaving, making him look like a little Buddha. I met Yew Chong over the Internet because of our common love of travel. He's planning a trip to Bolivia, which is extremely ambitious from Singapore.
The Chinese have a tradition where they burn effigies of material goods at funerals in order to make these items available in the afterlife. It's quite interesting to see the paper mache images of cars, houses, money, etc that they use. Well, Yew Chong tells me they have now modernized to the point where they have credit cards, cell phones, and pagers. What would you like to have with you in the afterlife?
Went to a travel seminar for expats at the American Club Monday night. I learned more than I need to know about Bali resorts I will never visit. However, I'm such a travel junkie that I enjoy listening to travel discussion even when it isn't particularly useful to me.
Tuesday, Sybil wants to go to a fou-fou Western place, which she jokingly calls "Les Miserables." I actually think this is the real name and only after reading this does she tell me that the place is called "La Esmirada." As we're leaving I joke with Sybil that if she's going to drag me to expensive Western restaurants (which I despise) then we should be going with Henning, since he seems to have a predilection for such places.
[Sybil tells me that she recently got Henning to go to a cheap Chinese place for lunch with her. She relates that Henning went to ask a Chinese worker for some salt. The request in itself is bizarre enough not to be understood in such places, but successful communication between Henning and the Singaporean is further hampered by the vast difference between his German accented English and the local's native Singlish. So, the Chinese guy says, "OK, you want chili or soya?" because he thinks Henning is asking for "sauce," a much more normal request to his ears. They get caught in an infinite loop with Henning demanding "salt!" and the Chinese guy still thinking he wants some kind of sauce. Sybil finally intervenes to translate.]
Anyway, we're leaving "Les Mis" (thumbs down to the overpriced food there) when we run into Henning! He is having dinner there with a prospective employer. We are surely stuck in a karass with this guy. We make plans to meet him later at a poetry reading at a nightclub called Zouks.
Zouks is a big nightclub at the end of a dead-end street near a dark turn in the river. A black dog barks at us as we walk through the trash to take a look at the slowly moving water. Moving inside, we're taken to a relatively small room called the "Velvet Underground." Huge and monstrously bad artwork defaces the walls. Special effect lighting and repetitive music prelude a fashionably late start to the event. An alternative crowd trickles in-a blond Chinese woman with a crewcut, long-haired Westerners, and several gay guys. The efficient air filtering system saves our lungs from their many cigarettes. We are conspicuously out of place in our shorts and T-shirts.
The poetry isn't great but I don't mind it. I would absolutely detest a crowd like this in the States but somehow I am more generous towards them here in Singapore. I think it's because it takes a lot more guts to be alternative here, so I can more easily overlook their pretension. Unfortunately my leg is riddled with mosquito bites-either from our short walk by the river or inside the dark room itself. After awhile the itching is driving me nuts and we must bail early.
Perhaps my hatred of clubs comes from living near some of them in Chicago. Their obnoxious music would keep me up at night and the neighborhood would be horribly trashed. Violence frequently broke out at these clubs and sometimes I would have to go through a police checkpoint if I returned home late at night. My uncle still lives there and tells me there was recently another shooting and a guy died in front of the house where I used to live.
Obviously the Singapore clubs are a lot safer, but they still have lots of bouncers. One of them chases after us as we leave to return some photographs Sybil left behind. People often unjustly criticize Singapore for being sterile and controlling, but the fact that people can walk around at night in safety is a huge point in its favor. The bouncers at Zouks are friendly and helpful because they don't have to worry about a riot every weekend. The Chicago bouncers do have to worry about violence and this is one thing I don't miss about my hometown.
Remember when I was answering email and discussed curry puffs with a former Singapore expat? Well, I got to meet him Thursday night. His name is Mark Valentine and he's here with his wife Patience for a short time. Patience thinks the rest of the world doesn't have the right cultural background for curry puffs to catch on big. Mark and I disagree, mainly because we discovered that they taste good with beer! Anything that tastes good with beer can bridge cultural chasms.
Mark and Patience lived in Singapore for 5 years before moving to Jakarta last year. They have been forced to leave there because of the economic crisis in Indonesia. They are returning to London soon. I'll relate two of the many good tales I heard from them.
Patience was working at the Body Shop in Singapore when a woman "furtively" came in and hung around the shop for awhile. Patience asked her what she wanted. The woman eventually revealed that she was looking for some cream to promote breast enlargement. (BTW, these creams are popular here and you can see ads for them on the MRT.) Patience tells her they don't have any creams but they have some other things, oils, etc that the woman could try. The woman then proceeds to pinch Patience's breasts, asking "these real, eh?" Yes, Singaporeans are careful shoppers indeed.
Mark tells a story about a friend of his taking a taxi in Jakarta. He notices the driver start to nod off so he tries to ask him, in Bahasa Indonesian, if he's tired. The taxi driver immediately becomes alert, turns his head around and gives this guy a watchful stare. This guy's Indonesian language skills are basic and later he finds out that what he actually said to the driver was: "have you washed your genitals." Learn this phrase to keep sleepy taxi drivers alert.
While having a drink with Mark and Patience, a guy I know from work comes by with his wife and baby. His name is Andrew and he works for the Guardian (drug store) side so I can complain to him about how screwed up they are in our department and he understands because as an end user he's had to put up with the results of our bad IT management. Turns out they lived in Jakarta before moving to Singapore-the reverse of Mark and Patience. Their baby boy is extremely cute and all the waitresses want to play with him.
Mark and I have both read a lot of Internet travel journals, including Sean's two accounts. (Remember the guy who stayed with us and I threw the tarot cards for him that recommended he "howl at the moon?") We both agree that Sean's first journal is far better than his current one. (Hear that Sean? Your readers demand more from you!) Mark suggests that long term travelers must invariably become jaded and wind up passing up many "sights" and just wind up hanging out with other travelers. It's true that I've seen this happen a lot, even to myself, but I don't think you need to loose your zest for traveling. I tell Mark that I can still walk around Singapore and think: "Wow, I'm in Singapore." Sometimes I think you need to be a bit of a happy fool to be a traveler.
Friday at work I revealed my thoughts about the feng shui in the computer room to Violet, the head of our Operations. After testing me to see if I'm serious she finally confessed that she hung a Swiss bell as a feng shui amulet at the computer room entrance. I hadn't even noticed it before.
Inflicted with a painful knot near the center of my back, I took Sybil's advice and had Terry (remember the teahouse visit from way back?) work on me this weekend. I went through two sessions of Shiatsu and got some benefit from it. Shiatsu can be painful, especially when you are new to it like me. I learned the trick is to concentrate on your breathing. Make sure you go to someone who is fully trained (Terry says it takes four years) because a bad Shiatsu therapist can hurt you more than help you. Terry is normally pretty booked up but you can try to schedule something with him. His office is in the Tanglin Shopping Centre (283-8089).
In the past week we've eaten twice at the Newton Hawker Center, more than during the previous five months. Mark V. insists this is still an authentic makaplace, while I maintain that tourists have spoiled it. I've even seen tour buses there! It has some good places to eat, but everything is overpriced compared to "regular" hawker courts. It is also dirty and full of touts. Henning now lives right next to the place so I will probably wind up eating there more often, but it is my least favorite hawker center. Actually, just saying that "tourists spoiled it" is too simplistic because Lau Pau Sat probably gets just as many tourists, yet it somehow maintains a much better atmosphere than Newton. I can't exactly explain what went wrong here.
OK, so where are the best, relatively close to the center of town hawker centers? Simple--look next to the wet markets: Maxwell, Tanjong Pagar, Red Hill, and Zhujiao. Unfortunately these places are disappearing and may one day become a thing of the past. Enjoy them while you can. I eat at Zhujiao at least three times a week and love it. Sybil wants me to do an article for Expat Singapore about the best stalls at Zhujiao. I could write a book about it.
Komola's on Upper Dickson Road may not be the best place to eat in Little India and it's too popular, but the food is not at all bad and it's definitely worth a look. I say this because they have setup a fast food restaurant (a la McDonald's) that serves Indian cuisine. So instead of picking up your burgers and shake at the counter (although you can get a vegetarian burger meal) you pick up your masala dosai and lassi. They have a nice buffet on the second floor too.
One radio show I've heard a few times over hear mixes pop music from the 50's and 60's (four consecutive songs were by Ray Charles, Leslie Gore, Herman's Hermits, and CCR) with interviews and call-ins. The host is Raymond Goh and he talks to people in a pleasant, simplistic style. The thing is, whenever I hear him I keep thinking he's setting people up for a cutting remark or a gag at their expense, just like a lot of American radio show interviewers would do. But the biting, verbal attack never comes! Instead, he's just rephrasing what he's hearing and keeping things absolutely non-antagonistic. The best comparison I can make is if you had Mister Rogers (from the old Mister Rogers Neighborhood show) doing interviews with people interspersed with old rock music. You keep thinking there's going to be some kind of joke. It actually makes for a great show because you can add in the snide remarks yourself, like Mystery Science Theater robots cracking jokes at a bad movie.
Went to a manager's meeting on Friday. Yes, I'm now a manager and have a good group of underlings, but since I have some problems with the IT head I'm not sure how it will work out. Surprisingly, the Dairy Farm upper level managers are a fairly sharp bunch. Many of them are new as well so they can't be blamed for the many problems we have. I had a chance to tell our CEO that our Year 2000 goals are unrealistic. He wasn't surprised to hear this. I can get the OS, database and middleware Y2K compliant by the end of this year but we basically have no one experienced working on the application side, and this is by far the toughest part of the problem. They should have done something about this a long time ago and will now have to do a rush job.
Up in Little India the other day we come across a vegetable we've never seen before. It is green with white flesh, about the size and shape of a mango and tastes a bit like a starchy bitter turnip. Of course when I bought it I had no idea what it tasted like or how to cook it. Since it looked a bit bland I wound up mixing it green beans and seasoned with some strong flavors: garlic, Thai peppers, anchovies, and oyster sauce. Over rice it was pretty good. Mazhar (work colleague) has since told me that the mystery veggie is called "shalgam." (OK, I made the exact same dish again, to use up the shalgam and green beans, only I improved it by adding lemon and lime juice.)
Oh yes, forgot to mention that Mazhar is back from a month's leave in India where his wife just had a baby boy. I've seen the pictures and can state that I've now seen three cute baby boys in a very short time. Since I'm catching you up on work mates, Raju (our former DBA who left for greener pastures) has moved to the States and is currently working in Philadelphia.
There's an Indian storeowner nearby who has a fabulous old canvass chickie advertising "Hacks," which is a throat lozenge. Amid a lot of Chinese characters it depicts an old man "hacking" into a handkerchief. It also misspells the word "vitamin." I love it! One day Sybil and I talked the owner into giving it to us-provided we arrange and pay for a new awning. At first it sounded like a great deal but now we've found it's expensive to replace. Plus we'd have to ship the damn thing home and it's huge. We haven't completely given up on the project but I'm currently leaning against it. Goes against my philosophy of simplicity.
I was checking out Sean's latest Internet accounts and was pleasantly surprised to see that he spent two weeks on the Thai island we will be vacationing at next week. So, I'm greedily reading his Koh Pha Ngan accounts, trying to get some inside information and all I hear about are days spent swimming with Thai girls on the beach and nights spent dancing with them. Yes, I know I (or actually, the Tarot cards) told him to "howl at the moon," and it was probably good for him, but I haven't been to this place yet and want to hear more about it. However, I do confess that I like how he dangles silly, stream of conscious allusions before his voyeuristic readers while wasting time (ours and his) in a tropical paradise. His writing drips with self-pity, but that's part of what this trip is about for him. Even when it's bad, at least there's some feeling behind it. Too many travelogues become lists of attractions, hotels, restaurants, or (thinking about my own stuff) names of people.
My future account of our trip to Koh Pha Ngan will be considerably different. I'm sure that future readers will no doubt say something like: "That 'Singapore Journal' idiot! Why is he going on about that, instead of telling me about the things that I'm interested in." Yes, we all have different eyes, and what they see is determined by what we're feeling.
Finally, I need to defend Sean a bit against Mark V's and my criticisms. First off, there's no sense of self-pity in his emails, so he's not a maudlin guy. On the contrary, his emails are full of smiley faces and *chuckles. After all, the main point of his trip is to have fun, not to entertain us virtual tourists. Second, he's sending off these little snippets from Internet access points and the meter is running as he types. Third, I'm sure he'll tell the story differently once he has some time to digest the experience. Fourth, I'm just jealous that he's on the road right now and I'm not. And finally, (to Sean) remember the philosophy of Bela Lugosi in "Ed Wood" - "All publicity is good."
Actually, I'm going to see Sean on Friday so I'll get the first hand account then. He had a successful trip and I'm glad he didn't get stabbed this time.
This morning I overhear Pele (young guy at work who once asked Mazhar if Bombay was in the south) on the phone: "What-lah! Singaporean good-eh. You want China girl-lah?" OK, is he running a brothel on the side or what?
Kate Besleme stayed with us for a few (too few, as we enjoyed her company) nights while attending a conference here. We met her through her mother, Rita, who happened upon the Singapore Journal. One night we go out with her and a bunch of people from work (Mazhar, Peggy, etc) to dinner in Little India. Afterwards, I get my first chaw of betel leaves and spice. I can see how people get addicted to this stuff. Turns your tongue a bizarre red color though.
Did two tarot card throws over the past two days-one for Kate and one for Patience. The latter was just about to leave for London to catch up with her husband Mark V. Kate asked a relatively easy question while Patience had a much stronger query. The throws reflected this; the throw for Patience having stronger cards and indications. You have to wonder about these things sometimes.
Singapore Airlines has lowered some airfares, tempting us to temporarily scrap our Ko Pha Ngan plans and head for Bangkok. From there we'll probably fly to Chiang Mai, but I'm keeping our options open. So, Part Nine will probably have two weeks of Northern Thailand travel in it and will no doubt be far more interesting than Part Eight.
All week I've been attending training classes in Suntec City (BTW, the world's largest fountain is there). On the 26th floor of Tower Two I've been walking past a large office that is labeled "FAG." Thinking this is an unusual name for a company, I pause at the door to watch a computer monitor flash the following:
Welcome to FAG!
F
A
G
FAG Singapore
FAG
Have a nice day!
It just repeats this over and over. I still don't know what goes on in there.
Sign seen on bridge over a canal: "Temporary bridge. Please walk carefully." As I cross it, I hope it's not too temporary.
Went to see some traditional Hainainese opera last night, outside in the little park near the Orchard MRT. Of course the story was ridiculous, but the show was very well done. We went with Henning and all enjoyed it. Who says there's no culture here!
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