Gong Xi Fa Cai! (Mandarin) Happy New Year

                                                                       

I have now been in Singapore for approximately 11 weeks. I have to deduct four weeks on account that we were in America for several weeks over the Christmas holidays. It was wonderful to be back with friends and family, but re-entry to my adopted country was challenging.

When we boarded the plane for home, I thought we would have a relatively comfortable flight with plenty of vacant seats. After all, it was mid-January and the holidays were well over. Wrong! The plane was packed. The reason, explained the flight attendant was Lunar New Year. People were flocking to Asia to celebrate and connect with family. To run with the wild horses who will guide this year. At that moment, I felt so myopic and insular. Lunar New Year? Equal or bigger than Christmas? In Asia, yes; in San Diego, a dragon dance at one of the Chinese restaurants with perhaps an orange slice at the end of the meal. 

The preparations including pre-celebrations were in full force. The markets were decked with beautiful plants and flowers (real and artificial) and potted ornamental orange trees.  Holiday foods - often symbolic were in abundance - pineapple tarts, pork jerky, mandarin oranges, cans of abalone (Mexican and Australian), chartreuse pomelos with CNY decals embossed on them. Restaurants advertised elegant multi-course "reunion" dinners featuring exotic delicacies - Shark fin soup (PETA is not welcome here during Chinese New Year), Yu Sheng (a distinctly Singaporean salad-like dish consisting of many items including raw salmon which are ceremoniously and dramatically tossed up in the air with extra long chopsticks), Buddha Jumps Over the Wall and so on. Chinese New Year dishes often feature long simmered stews of various exotic seafoods mixed with pork parts as well as well as dishes comprised of speciatly meats like deer (I know that "venison" is the preferred term, but here it is called "deer"). Sea cucumber figures prominently.  It turns out the delicacies' name or physical characteristic has more to do with why it graces the reunion table. If it sounds like a word for wealth, health, or looks like something auspicious, then chances are, it will wind up on your plate. 

Chinatown was transformed by the students from the Singapore University of Tech and Design with the main boulevard being overrun by 88 larger than life sized lanterns in the shape of horses thundering toward a healthy and abundant new year. Across them, hundreds of lanterns fashioned into gold coins challenge the horses to gallop into them assuring prosperity. The side streets and alleys are laced with beautiful red and gold lanterns and for several days leading up to the official start of Chinese New Year, a bazaar fills one of the streets. Visually, it is awesome! The bazaar consists of stalls lining the streets, sitting just in front of the permanent stores - thus creating chaos, but never the less, double shopping. Stalls carry everything one can purchase at a county fair in the states as well as more CNY decor than one can shake a stick at. The streets are packed. 

Just as one is lulled into ambiance of China, one is suddenly confronted by the edifice of the oldest Hindu temple in Singapore, Sri Mariamman Temple. It's like watching a collision of two very different cultures that somehow gracefully melt into one another, yet remain distinctly autonomous. It is one example, in my mind of what Singapore does best. Cultural tolerance. 

Chinatown is the place to be for the 15 day celebration including fireworks, parades, lion and dragon dances, cultural and pop performances, wishing trees except on New Year's day and the day after, when all activity ceases and everyone is home. On thos days, one can hear a pin drop and maybe catch a glimpse of tumbleweed ambling down the deserted streets. In point of fact, all of Singapore grinds to a halt to some degree until the first week of February.

Nick and I decided to throw ourselves into the celebration full force. We braved the traffic and crowds and lunged into Chinatown the day before New Year's Eve. We flowed like molasses through the bazaar allowing the human current to push us along. When we were confronted by the Dravidian-style Hindu temple, we peeked inside the open structure and took in the scene of followers draping deities with flower leis and praying. A young girl, in full traditional dress approached me as she left the temple with her mom,  and invited me to go inside. She was so soft and gentle and encouraging and said I need only take off my shoes and leave them on the waiting shoe rack. Her mother told me that God wished me good health and so, I felt like I had to go in. Nick followed along. As I was looking at the various shrines and probably just as I was looking at a particularly fiery deity who had flashing red and green lights to illustrate that he meant business,  I had a sudden GI attack and had to find a loo FAST! I told Nick and my exploration of the shrines became dual purposed as I tried to also to see if maybe one of them was shielding a bathroom - After all, there were basins for washing ones feet and hands. No such luck. We would have to brave the molasses river and locate a loo in a restaurant in the side street. As we made our way down the packed street and the very end of the street, I noticed a sign for "Jess's Pub". A pub! Karoake! It had to have a loo! We were going in there.

We maneuvered through the bazaar stalls onto the sidewalk behind the stalls and entered the bar. What greeted us was a very darkened venue with about 7 women including a female bartender. There were no men to be seen except for one operating the sound system.  At first, the women looked a little surprised to see us, but straightaway, a young woman approached and I blurted out my immediate need.
"Do you have a restroom?"
She cocked her head to one side indicating that the loo was to the left,  but added
"It's occupied"
"What?" (whimper)
"Drinks?" Sure, I would order anything just to use the loo.
"I'll have a gin and tonic" Nick said he would have a coke.
"A coke?" she asked bemused and then she looked confused, "gin and tonic"? Her uncertainty about the gin and tonic was conveyed to the bar tender who after a moment's hesitation, gathered her courage to mix the drink. I looked around - the women were young, pretty, not overly made up. There was a woman wearing a safari short outfit. She was sitting at the table next to us - in the shadows. She reminded me of Lana Lee, a character from "A Confederacy of Dunces". She surveyed us with disinterest and then returned to texting.   A couple of women were playing pool.
"Is this a women's bar?" I asked.
"I dunno know... it could be OR ..." Nick replied.
The bathroom was free! Whilst in there, I heard a very poor rendition of a '60's rock song being belted out by a guy. When I emerged from the loo,  a middle aged man, with a bad pompadour was singing a way. The woman who had greeted us, asked if I wanted to sing. I sang "Crazy" by Patsy Cline. Mainly because anyway you sliced it, this was a  crazy situation. Nick refused to sing. I think he just wanted to get out of there.  As two of the women sashayed in unison and wrapped themselves, Damon Runyon style, around an older Western guy with an unfortunate toupee, we slipped out with cheerful, genuine goodbyes following us. So, this was my farewell to the past year.  The girls seemed nice enough.

I experienced my first two female cab drivers. The first driver was a middle-aged, divorced mother of three with an edgy hair cut. She told me she was one of 1000 female cabbies out of 74,000+  in Singapore. She told me that Singapore is safe, but not so safe that she would ever drive a cab at night. Then she told me some gruesome stories about night time drivers.  She said she would never marry a Singaporean man again - too soft and entitled. She said that since every Singaporean is guarenteed a job, the men lack the grit and drive that "real" men have and all men need.  I told her that I was trying to meet people. 

"Bake a cake and take it to your neighbors".

"Bake?" 

"Look, I've seen a lot of Western films and when someone is new to the house or neighborhood, they always bake something. Bake something".