| Submitted by: Mark R. Leeper United States |
| Submission Date: 09 February 2005 |
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After the National Mosque we went to the National Art Gallery. In
the front was a soda machine that dispensed cups. I got a Sarsi and had
it half drunk when I noticed there was a dead ant floating in it. That
took the edge off my thirst really quick, I can tell you. Evelyn is a
practical girl. She took the cup and drank the soda in such a way that
the ant stayed in the cup. I didn't feel like kissing her right away
after that, but then I probably wouldn't have kissed her in the art
gallery anyway.
I quickly found out what made this a gallery and not a museum.
Every item had a year on it and every time the year was 1990. Frankly,
after seeing so many of the classics on our Holland and Belgium trip two
months earlier, these did not stack up. The first part of the exhibit
was modern design. You know, the sort of thing: chairs and sewing
machines made to look impractical or ugly but at the same time chic and
modern.
In the upper floors we saw paintings. A couple were striking; the
rest you could use the Evelyn Wood Speed Art Appreciation techniques on.
While we were walking around we heard a familiar voice coming up
the stairs. It emanated from Binayak. He and Barbara wanted to see the
art gallery also. They did. Then we all headed back to the hotel to
rest up, none of us looking forward to another night on the sleeper car.
Everyone but Steve had checked out that morning. We saved one room so
there would be a place to crash. And crash we did. We all slept. We
woke up about 6 PM. Meanwhile it had gotten really ugly outside. This
was the worst rain and lightning storm of the trip. When the sky opens
up here it can be impressive. We'd allowed plenty of time to get to the
train station.
We checked out and asked the hotel to call us a cab. To my relief
they did not respond, 'Okay, you're a cab.' Not to my relief, however,
was the fact they could not find us a cab because of the rain. We sat
in the lobby with our bags as they kept trying but no cabs. 'Don't
panic. Still plenty of time,' we told ourselves nervously. The hotel
kept retrying. We kept not panicking. After about an hour we decided
there must be a better way not to panic. The way we were trying was not
100% effective.
We went down to the bus station and tried there. Yes, there were
taxis there but they wanted M$15. Coming in the other direction it had
been about M$7, Barbara pointed out. We started off to try to find
other cabs. The Steve said we'd take it if we could get two cabs, not
one. They agreed.
We went to the cabs. Barbara was still bothered that we were being
gouged. I am usually the cheap one of the group, but I told her, 'They
are charging us each US$1.20 and the standard price is $US0.60. Should
we go back to worrying if we can get to the train station?'
She said, 'You're right. I'm thinking crazy.' I thought that was
a nifty response. It is tough to think about what these prices really
are in American dollars.
For the extra US$0.60 we got to the train station in time to get
dinner. But the moment I was dreading, and probably all of us were, was
when we'd have to get on that sleeper car.
Our first view of the car was a pleasant surprise. There were
small windows for the upper berths. They were about six inches by
fourteen inches. These could make much of the difference. As it turned
out, the weather may have also been a bit cooler. I was actually too
cool and someone else was actually complaining that it was too cold. I
think we all agreed this was our most comfortable sleeper and I was able
to tell the others that I didn't know why upper-berth people had been
complaining; based on a sample of one, upper berths were quite
comfortable. Every couple of cars they even had storage space so I
could get rid of my backpack.
October 25, 1990: In the morning I woke just a bit early, but I
needn't have bothered. The train, which was supposed to have gotten
into Singapore at 7 AM, was something like two hours behind schedule. I
went over to where the others' berths were (Evelyn and I were separated
from the others). We talked for a while. I was somewhat amused to see
a Buddhist monk, orange robes and all, sitting there and listening to
our conversation. I would have liked to talk to him, but do you just
talk to a Buddhist monk? I wasn't sure. I knew they were not supposed
to come in any physical contact with women. If they are to be handed
something by a woman they spread a cloth between their hands. The item
to be handed them is laid on the cloth without touching them. I more or
less figured I should not push matters. Then Priya threw a comment
about trains or something into our conversation. I figured it was 'open
season.' I started a conversation with him. I asked where he was from
and he said he lived in Malaysia and Singapore. Originally he was from
Bangladesh. I mentioned that one of our party was from Calcutta.
Binayak asked if Priya still spoke Bengali. He did and they talked a
while. At some point I noticed that Priya had a large tattoo of a bird
on the inside of his right forearm. I don't think I have ever seen a
monk with a tattoo before. I asked Priya what his responsibilities were
as a monk. They seemed to be just that he takes care of himself.
Doesn't he have special prayers he must make? No. We told him some of
our country. I remember telling him how much I dislike snow. I doubt
if Priya had even seen snow, so I thought that would be something he
would want to hear about. We talked about Singapore, which he said 'was
fine for fines.' Steve thought he meant it was a nice place for nice
people. No, he meant fines. There are warnings of fines all over.
True enough, Singapore had a liberal dose of signs up warning about
fines. Every minor infraction seemed to have a heavy fine posted.
Littering, jaywalking, everything. Some even threatened caning. What
20th Century country still has whipping as a punishment? Who do they
get to administer the caning? It is an anachronism. I asked Priya how
long he'd been a monk. Three years. Was this part of a five-year
compulsory monkdom. I am not sure he knew what I was talking about
about five years. He said he was a monk for life.
I was a little surprised that Singapore's outskirts were as much
like Malaysia's as they were. I suppose I was expecting a very modern
city to have covered the island. Much of Singapore looks no better off
than the poor parts of Malaysia or even Thailand. Of course, Singapore
was once part of Malaysia ... for about twenty-three months. It got
un-annexed because of dissident opinions, much as Penang has a lot of
dissidents. The Muslims and the Chinese really do not get along very
well. Singapore was kicked out of Malaysia and had to fend for itself
which it did rather handsomely. This abortive merger occurred from 1961
to 1963.
By far the strongest party in Singapore is PAP, the People's Asian
Party, which has been in power for over thirty years under Prime
Minister Lee Kuan Yew. In the elections of 1968, 1972, 1976, and 1980,
PAP won all the seats in Parliament. There are some signs of change.
In the 1988 election, things went against the PAP party and they won
only eighty of the eighty-one seats in Parliament. Lee still holds a
lot of power. PAP is nearly a totalitarian party in spite of democratic
elections. We pulled into the station 9-ish and got in a very long
Customs line where we must have stood for twenty-five minutes. Of the
Americans, I got the most thorough going-over--I actually had to open up
luggage. However, Binayak seemed to get a very complete examination. I
think they looked all through his luggage and asked him a lot of
questions. They found in his luggage my copy of Asia Week and
confiscated it. It was the first time I had ever seen something
genuinely confiscated by Customs. I'd had a science fiction book
confiscated by the Soviets going into Leningrad. I was told it was
forbidden. Three or four border guards had handed it around until it
got to one who looked as if she was about college age. She leafed
through it, reading five or six pages and then without explanation said,
'Here's your book,' handing it back to me. I suspect what I was seeing
was curiosity, not Cold War distrust. I did not begrudge them a five-
minute confiscation.
This was a different matter, however. What got confiscated, even
if it was only a magazine, was kept. And when we got to the train
station they were selling Asia Week at newsstands. But these, as it
turned out, had been approved by the government. Some issue of Asia
Week had the audacity to criticize Lee Kuan Yew. So now only approved
issues were allowed into the country. The incident left a bad taste in
our mouths.
I will not go into detail about our search for a hotel, but it was
the toughest of the trip. It was very hard to find unbooked hotels in a
moderate price range. In the end, we stayed at the Bencoolen Hotel on
Bencoolen Street. The staff was curt and unpleasant. The rooms were a
bit better than spartan, but not very much. To make matters worse, the
hotel had noisy construction going on.
From there it was out on the street to find breakfast. Actually it
was almost close to lunchtime--must have been about 11 AM. After
walking a while, we found a Chinese place where you pointed to food in a
case. When the bill came and we figured the price in American dollars,
it was a shock. Not a bad price for the United States but high compared
to Thailand and Malaysia.
Next stop was changing money. Evelyn suggested we change US$200 to
be safe. We did. Then we put a big chunk in the common fund and set
aside a piece for departure tax. I looked at what was left and started
wondering if we should start looking for a place to change money. Here
I was still in the bank and wondering where to change money. We changed
US$100 more. Prices in Singapore were high. However, after having
worried if we'd brought enough money back when we were in Hong Kong, it
had turned out to be a fairly inexpensive trip. I don't mind having a
little extra in my pocket in Singapore.
The plan was to see Orchard Road, a posh shopping area. I was sort
of two minds since it was supposed to be something unique to Singapore.
On the way we passed a synagogue. Evelyn had been anxious to see it
since they are rare in this part of the world. The building looked a
lot like a lot of others but it had a Star of David on the front. I was
less than enthralled.
We continued on toward Orchard Road, passing a row of used
bookstores fairly close to our hotel. We went in one and I found a rare
British science fiction play, Quatermass II, which I picked up cheaply,
as well as an Edmund Cooper science fiction novel, Seahorse in the Sky.
Since we left the bank the sky had gotten grayer and more ominous. As
we walked we were pelted by drops of cold rain which I found a welcome
relief from the heat. I knew, however, the rain would not be welcome
for long. Sure enough, it let go in a very heavy torrent. We spent
about forty minutes under the marquee of a theater. It has a whole wall
painted as a giant ad for Total Recall. Here, as in China, most of the
film posters are locally painted from a printed model. I got a good
picture of Evelyn next to a giant Arnold Schwarzenegger face. Her feet
are next to his chin and her head comes up to the bottom of his nose. I
passed the time reading the Cooper book.
Finally the rain let up and we were moving again. It was still
sprinkling and we ducked into a three-story mall, the Singapore Plaza.
We ended up going through it and looking at the bookstores. Right in
the middle of a bookstore a very unpleasant thought dawned on me. Due
partially to circumstances beyond our control, and partially to
circumstances within our control, we had already spent about a third of
our time in Singapore doing things we could have done in new York City.
Why come to Singapore and shop in American-style malls? I started
getting 'ootsey.' Well, we were meeting in about an hour. |
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| Copyright © - "Mark R. Leeper" |
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