Week 4 - I'm still here

Week 4 - I'm still here.

The days go on and I am still here.  I am fully aware that this is not a vacation; this is my life.

There are so many food markets here in Singapore, that I have set about experiencing as many as I can. Every neighborhood has at least one covered market and usually there is a hawker center or food court connected to it. In addition, there are loads of brand-name supermarkets. The traditional supermarkets are generally more expensive than the neighborhood markets.  It's not unusual to visit several venues for groceries - produce and meat if one can stand the wet market at a covered market, packaged goods, meat and dairy products at a supermarket and then specialty stores - a butcher, baker, organic, etc. Because our kitchen is so small, not unlike the kitchens one finds in a European city, I have to grocery shop several times a week if not every day. Some say that the kitchen area is the domain of the "helper" or maid and thus it's size and or the lack of hot running water should not be the concern of the helper's employer. But, if you are the helper, these issues become vexing. 

Last week, I ventured out to Tekka Market in Little India. Once at the MRT (underground) stop for Little India, one sees billboards of glamorous Indian people (men, women, children) advertising the ornate jewelry that can be purchased just outside. Those billboards are indicators that one has crossed over into another land. One emerges from the underground into a community that is a country within a country. The streets have ornately crafted arches and temples with Ganeesh, Vishnu, Mariamman. They are brightly colored. Forgotten banners wishing a "Happy Deepvali" have not been removed, but they seem to fade into the carvings of the permanent arches anyway. The streets are filled with women wearing chuirdaar (long sleeve tunic and pajama pants), kameez (short sleeve tunic and pants), saris as well as contemporary dress. There are small shops similar to newsstands selling all sorts of goods and there are jewelry stores displaying the deliciously elaborate deep golden jewelry intricately set with rubies, emeralds and saphires. Necklaces, earrings and bracelets that are almost too much for Westerners to consider wearing. Almost. Most of these objects are truly beautiful art pieces. Surprisingly, no security guards. There is a hum and bustle here.  Rounding the corner, one comes to a large pavilion with an open mall. The ground floor is occupied by a large hawker center, market and wet market. The second floor houses numerous sari and fabric outlets, shoe stalls, Christian book stall, tailoring shops and all sorts of dry goods. This is Tekka Market. The food court stalls prepare all sorts of foods from all parts of India, Afghanistan, Burma, Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore.  At various places in the court there are sinks with running water so that one may wash before and after eating. Many people eat with their hands. 

I chose North Indian because I was intrigued by the made to order naan that was being cooked in an upright stone oven. I was also encouraged by the line of people waiting to order.  I ordered, was flattered by the man making the naan, quizzed by both he and his wife or sister about whether I was married; Children? What gender and ages. I took my food and shared a table with two Singaporean men of Indian descent who told me about their work and their perspective of Singapore. As is an oft repeated theme, the average Singaporean has to work very hard to make a living.

Following lunch, I proceeded to do my shopping. There are numerous vendors and stalls. Tekka is an especially large market. Each stall has its specialty - fruit, vegetables, grains, tofu, Western vegetables, spices, eggs. I was persuaded to buy Indian mangoes (at a good price with an extra thrown in) over the standard mangoes and stunningly tasty mangosteens from one purveyor. I bought some Western vegetables from someone else and then tried to brave the wet market. Mentally prepared for the stench of fresh but dead flesh, I marched through the aisles. Loads of fish sitting on beds of ice, rows upon rows of halal goat and lamb. Chicken and other fowl hang in their section of the wet market. Sausages. Still too much. I'm not there yet, but I'll get there.

As for Thanksgiving, Harry and I were invited to join a dinner group assembled by one of Nick's colleagues. In addition to our host and his wife, there were four other couples for a total of ten people. We did not go to the Marriott, but to another hotel - The Fullerton. The Fullerton is an historical building which served as a temporary hospital at the end WWII as well as Singapore's general post office until re-purposed as a hotel. Thanksgiving took on a new meaning for us - Harry was thankful that he could eat all of the turkey and beef that he could handle. He was also thankful that he could engage in sports talk with our host who not only played and coached serious rugby, but also does some work with U.S. Olympic athletes. Harry felt that we had scored socially! For me, I was thankful for sharing the holiday with a group of interesting people but also all for all of the strangers, mostly American, at the hotel restaurant. There was comfort in hearing snippets of anonymous conversations that were distinctly and culturally American. 

Yesterday, I was taking a cab home from yet another foray for groceries. No Thanksgiving leftovers, I'm afraid. Cabbies are referred to as "uncles". My driver was a cheerful man and we engaged in a conversation which started with his telling me that Singapore has no natural resources (true) and therefore must import all of her food from elsewhere. He went on to describe a rice shortage that occurred several years ago in which Singaporeans needed to line up for rice. He added that other countries are short on food and then he discussed genetically engineered produce and it's evils. This of course, digressed into the way cows are grown in the U.S. This topic led to the next which was the airspace fracas between Japan and China and how in someway this indicated that resources are fast becoming scarce, causing aggressive behavior amongst nations. At this point, as I was contemplating whether I should cook or throw out the beef I'd just bought,  I asked him "What's the answer?" He looked at me slyly through the rear-view mirror. Triumphantly, he announced "A war! We need a war"
me: "Really? A war? Didn't we just get out of a war with Iraq and Afghanistan? Aren't we trying to start over with Iran? A war? I don't know if we're up to it..."
There was some talk about guinea pigs in cages multiplying and eating one another. And then, there was the reality, that a wrong turn had been taken. 
Uncle: "I don't care. This is a very good conversation"
me: "Wouldn't a war in today's world cause a lot of collateral damage? That's a lot of death and destruction. There is sure to be nuclear or bio weaponry used..."
Uncle: " Yeah, sure. Maybe 50% dead. Then we start over..."
me: "Well, who decides who that 50% is? Are you volunteering?"
Uncle: "I dunno...Whoever can make it, makes it...The main thing is....is...to love your husband and your children. Love your family.  Thank you for the conversation! Enjoy Singapore"

Even a cab ride can be an adventure.