White Walls of Singapore

Due to weather, all pictures courtesy of Channel NewsAsia.

Today's weather is a high of 90*F, rain showers in the evening... and a smoke haze all day. That's right, no matter where you are outside, a thin white fog seems to cover everything and the taste of burned ash stings your throat.

The reason for this smoky air is caused by forest fires in Indonesia and according to the weather channels, it is just one of several months to come where the smoke haze is expected to hang over the whole island.

Yep, we are getting hit by smoke from a fire that is 156-mile away (Fine, 251-kilometres!)

It all started Friday evening, I left work happy to sign the lease to our new HDB apartment when I stepped outside. At first I didn't notice it, I was in a rush to grab a nice cold lime juice (a local equivalent to lemonade) and then make the 10-minute walk to the boyfriend's office, then to walk south to our new apartment in the old but surprisingly modern neighbourhood of Tanjong Pagar. It was probably the cold beverage that buffered me a bit but half way into the first half of my excursion and I was noticing a burning smell in the air, a dry and raw feeling in my throat and a small sting in my eyes.

At first I thought it was a fire somewhere nearby, but when I craned an ear to listen, I didn't hear any emergency sirens. In the heart of Singapore known by the impressive and towering title of the Downtown Core (Walk through it once and you'll know the name is deserved), I can usually hear the sounds reverberating off the skyscrapers, the steel, concrete and glass walls like a sound chamber and sometimes when I walk the smaller roads meant for delivery and service vehicles that bisect between the behemoths I swear I can hear voices echoing in the distance.

But it was as I looked up at those glass spires above me, I noticed they seemed a little harder to see. You know when your at the beach and you look at a ship on the very edge of the horizon, it looks a little whited out, details are harder to make out. The intricate and varied towers of the Downtown Core and around Raffles were now harder to make out, like someone had dropped white mosquito netting in my way to blot them out.

I met my boyfriend and was going to voice my confusion that everything seemed 'off' this evening, but we were late and in a rush, he had more work to do and we still had to pack for our move (Hey, its was two suitcases each but in two-months, we've spread out!) so I kept my tongue to myself, instead asked about his day, as we speed walked to our destination.

We arrived on the middle floors of our 24-story HDB and made a beeline to our destination, our new apartment. But here the 'white wall' was all the more evident.

Most if not all HDB's have open air walkways that line the interior walls of their courtyards, causing a spiral maze to grow over your head that seems full of life. Along these walks people hang their laundry to dry in the air, grow plants of staggering exotic variety, line their shoes along the walls, the occasional child's toy or scooter are neatly against the concrete railing and with some homes, a tiny yet lovingly maintained Buddhist or Hindu idol with offerings of oranges or burning incense occupy the corners. But along this almost 200-foot walk (Fine, 50-meters!), I could see the white wall hanging at around the halfway point down the walk, the door of the last apartment on the walk at the far end was almost gone in the mist.

But beyond the white wall was one startling fact of the walkway that I found instantly concerning.

It was empty of all souls... anyone who has been in an HBD in the evening knows its common for windows and doors to be opened, for the sounds of people talking, televisions playing and even children racing up and down the halls while squealing in glee fill the air. It almost always sounds like a cul-de-sac back in the States on a hot summer evening after school's let out, children running free, neighbours chatting from across their porches, the occasional splash of an outdoor pool. You didn't have to see people, you could hear them clear as if they were all right in front of you... ah now I'm nostalgic.

Tonight however the doors were shut, the windows were shuddered, the sounds of those televisions muffled and not a body was outside.

One glance to my left as we walked through this haze, out towards the Port of Singapore, second busiest harbour in the world, I could barely make out the towering cargo cranes that could match our HDB in height. Out on the water, it was like the ocean and the hundreds of ships that floated atop it disappeared into white, not a detail beyond their shadows or silhouettes could be made out.

We signed out apartment lease, hashed out a few details with our landlord, shook hands with a very amicable deal and by the time we departed it was dark outside and though the lights of the harbour and surrounding buildings seemed... off... brighter then they should be... the white wall had vanished and we were heading back up to the Singapore parent's home for the last time.

Fast forward to the next morning and we were rushing about, trying to cram what we could into our four suit cases, two small roller bangs and two backpacks (All we had brought with us from America plus a few purchases), while trying to organize what appliances and extra goodies the Singaporean parent's had graciously gifted to us for our new apartment (Heads up, loving the espresso machine the Singaporean mother added to our pile... my caffeine addiction has been thoroughly quelled this morning!). Again I stepped outside, juggle a plastic hanging rack, an overburdened suitcase and three cooking pans under my arm... and instantly noticed the basketball court that lay atop the parking garage below us was lost in a haze.

The white wall was back, the burning smell of wood hung in the air and I instantly had to stifle a sneeze building in my chest.

Everything packed into the car, we headed out, absently turning on the radio to listen to some music as we made the 20-minute ride down to Tanjong Pagar from Tampines. The music is generally identical to home, Singapore's tastes in music tend to be very American (Western) with a greater preference towards Pop, Rock and Hip Hop... Country thankfully hasn't made a real dent here. But just as we were starting to pull onto the highway, the music ended as the broadcast switched to the local weather.

"All Singaporeans are reminded that due to forest fires in nearby Indonesia, smoke haze is expected for most of the next week. Please remain attentive to the Singaporean Air Quality Service and be appraised of government bulletins. Thank you."

Today's rating is 74, moderate. Anything over 100 is unhealthy to be outside without a face mask, over 200 dangerously unhealthy and over 300... well unless the fire is burning right next to Singapore I think we are safe for the time being.

For someone who has never been near a forest fire in his life, such a 'weather phenomenon' is weird to say the least. I lived in California for too short a time and at too young an age to register the yearly forest fires that plague the dry western states of America, the closest fire I've been to outside our home fireplace or an outdoor wood bonfire was a controlled burn of an abandoned house when I was 14. It was started, supervised and then doused by the local fire department who kept the crowd of curious onlookers upwind for the entire thing. We never were hit with the smoke head-on, we could feel the heat and smell the burning, but never we're we in the smoke path.

Singapore is in the smoke path from an entire forest, not just one house. I wonder if I should invest in one of those sterile surgical masks I see some people walking around with.

Until next time, the AngMoh will be hiding inside from the smoke.

Asian Apartment Assessing

So if my sky writer is doing his job, you should know by now that we've signed the lease on our first Singaporean apartment. What you didn't know!? But I paid that random stranger I met on the bus in the middle of the night all that money for top notch work!

Fine, back on topic!

For the last month we've been living with the boyfriend's Singaporean parents and while they have been INCREDIBLE (Seriously, by the normal conservative standards of the previous generation that speaks volumes!) I however have lived on my own for nearly 7-years! Living with someone else (barring my boyfriend for nearly two-years now) is an adjustment I have been finding it difficult adjusting to having 'room mates'... and living with your significant other's parents makes it both difficult and a bit uncomfortable.

• You have to be on your best behaviour all the time, no walking around in your boxers (Don't lie, you know you do it when no one's home). 
• You have to always dress nicely to present your competence as an adult... how I miss my ratty and worn lounging sweat pants!
• You can't hog the bathroom or the food, I love to take hour long hot showers where I literally can just sleep standing up... nope not here! My poor back muscles are screaming in defiance at the injustice!
• You can't curse or shout whenever your pissed or hurt. Don't believe me, stub your toe on the table and try stifling that F-word in your throat as you grip you foot and smile at the parents. 
• Your decision for meal time are by group consensus and not by what your stomach wants that night. 
• All forms of PDA even up to overt flirting is now weird because honestly, who wants to get all hot and bothered in front of you 'in-laws'. 
• Find you boyfriend's mother washing your underwear and instantly you feel both embarrassment and a healthy dose of shame, not to mention your an adult, you feel bad having someone else doing your laundry. (If your mother still does your laundry after college, sorry, you're a wierdo!)

For someone who lived by himself over half a decade, such an adjustment is not easy and the desire to return to some level of freedom I enjoyed before is desperately wanted. Don't get me wrong, its an immensely rewarding experience to get to know the Singaporean parents... but literally meeting them and living with them all in the same week is like watching an antelope on the Serengeti... every second a conversation goes quiet your afraid the time has come and that antelope is about to be hit... by Hummer!

Again back on topic, I know I run off on tangents. I think its because... Oh fine, your no fun!

So to begin hunting for a new place to stay in Singapore, the first desire is to pick somewhere that a commute to work is feasible. Right now going from Tampines down to Raffles means either catching the 552 Bus, riding it for an hour, praying traffic plays nice and then walking 10-minutes to work... or catching the 91 Bus to Tampines Mall, riding the MRT to Raffles and walking 15-minutes to work... both ways are crowded and both require me to be awake much earlier than God ever intended. So it was decided to focus in every neighbourhood that was less than a 20-minute commute from our office (train/bus included).

I am not a morning person... in fact before my coffee I am a DANGER to society... the closer I am to work the better.

Narrowing down our search area, we found apartment hunting in Singapore is very similar to NYC. Realtor's have taken to social media and the Internet with a zeal, many sites specific to Singapore apartment renting or property buying are plastered all over the Internet. We focused primarily on the website Property Guru, mostly because it required all apartment rental posting to come with pictures, both of the property but also the realtor hosting it.

Our area of focus was Tanjong Pagar, an area at the heart of the Downtown Core of Singapore that is an odd mix of old style HDBs and high-rise condos. It's only a short distance from the famed and always crowded Singapore Harbour, one of the busiest seaports in the world... seriously New York Harbour, you don't even rate in the top 10 seaports in the world when you can count nearly a hundred super-freighters representing two dozen countries, each as long as the Empire Star Building is tall, clustering on the open ocean, all vying to be the next to drop their goods at the base of tower cargo cranes that rival skyscrapers in height!

Saturday is the day to show, most people are out and about so you can get a feel for the real life of your desired neighbourhood. This will give you an idea of how crowded or loud your future home could be. If I'd have known my college apartment in Philadelphia was dead on the weekdays but overwhelmed by crowds, ear-splitting club music and drunks falling over at only 4:00 PM in the afternoon, I may have looked a little farther down the road!

Generally most owners will go through a realtor when they are trying to sell their places, the hassle is easier and most buildings require it to ensure nepotism doesn't play a factor in them keeping the rents competitive. In general pick them based on the properties they have, but when you call to schedule your appointment ask if they have similar properties in the area. Most actually will have multiple apartments in the same building complex they will be happy to show.

Now that sounds odd, if you've seen one HDB apartment, you've seen them all. But remember Singaporeans love to buy over rent, which means that as owner they have say in how all of these decade old units are not only decorated but also how they are renovated. The first apartment we saw had a wall between the kitchen and living room. But the next apartment did fit within the same space and shape, but that wall between the kitchen and living room had been torn out and a breakfast counter now acted as a barrier. Another two floors down had redone the kitchen counters with green tiles, the one next door went with stainless steel tops.

Secondary to this, almost all rental apartments in Singapore tend to come fully furnished. The owners know that most people who are renting tend to be working and juts starting out in the world, they have few belongings. Its common for all the basic furniture and major appliances to be installed on arrival. Think of it like how a hotel room is built, nothing fancy but still you will have a couch, television, washer, kitchen table, a bed and wardrobe for each room. If your buying, sorry they expect if you can afford property, you can afford your own couch! This means that the décor and furnishing of the place must also be considered when moving in. I loved a 18th floor apartment in a particular HDB near Duxom Park but the fact that owner refused to remove the ancient and truly gaudy Chinese-style wooden furniture and furnish with a television that wasn't made in the 1980s was the reason we turned it down.

The range of rents you can find will run the gamete and are largely predictable. The fancy condo built less than a year ago, with its own small backyard, a sky garden on the room, private courtyard and garage, even a private hall for functions, along with complimentary bomb shelter/pantry, was of course rated at a price that visibly made us choke. The cheap HDB flat built around the time my grandparents were newly weds and still hosting all the original décor, was straggly cheap... and stomach turning in its filth.

Be clear with the realtors, most are willing to negotiate the rent down if you are willing to offer incentive. Move in right away, but only if you drop S$200 from the rent. Like we'd pay the full rent, but wanted the couch, television and beds replaced with more modern versions. Haggling will be difficult and somewhat exasperating but we managed to chop a good chunk off our rent and get a say in how it was furnished because since the renovations were completed the day before, it lacked furniture when we viewed it.

Once the bid and the your haggled stipulations for moving in have been presented to the owner, they can decide whether or not they'll take your offer. This offer is going to include a check for your first month's rent, plus a security deposit that is usually one months rent and a realtor fee, which is usually another month's rent. So expect whatever price you agree on, the first time out of the gate you'll be paying three to four times that amount, so brace your bank accounts accordingly.

Once the offer is accepted, its time to sign the contract, where your stipulations for moving in are legally documented. Do no skimp on any details and make sure the owner is held accountable for all damages within the first day of moving in. We found while out future home was ideal, the handles on the kitchen windows were broken, a mirror was cracked and two tiles in the bathroom were wobbly. Yes, wobbly is the technical term! These damages must be fixed before you move in and any one's you missed need to be documented the first day in order to avoid a hefty chunk of your security deposit being sucked up when you move out.

There are also some stipulations that have to be made clear on the contract when you move in, in order to save yourself from 'breaking' your lease later on:

• Expatriate renters can use the Overseas Clause to break a lease without penalty. If you are posted back to your home country or another, you are only required to give two-weeks notice and your lease will be shortened accordingly to end as soon as possible. Just provide you FIN or Passport number to secure this.
• If ANY of the persons on the lease are Singaporean, the Overseas Clause not only doesn't apply, it voids an early lease break for the whole apartment.
• Rent periods tend to be 12-months to 18-months, not by year. 
• Non-Singaporeans can not own property in an HDB. Only Singaporeans can buy an HDB unit. This is the reason the Overseas Clause applies to expatriates and not Singaporeans, we can break contracts early but can never own.
• Subletting is illegal and strictly enforced. Even to family this is unacceptable unless their names are on the lease.
• Most buildings come with WiFi and it is average in speed. Enough to browse the Internet but if you want to use some serious power, like online gaming or HD television, you'll have to invest in something more powerful.
• Unlike in the States, water, gas and heat is not included in your rent. They will be billed to you same as electricity. 
• You are expecting to service all appliances and amenities in your apartment. No building repairman, unless the damage is to the building itself, then alert the owner for assistance. Remember your air conditioner WILL need to be serviced every three-months, if it doesn't the build up of bacteria, dust and oils can make you sick or worse, start a fire!

And with that all hammer down, we've signed our contract and are set to move in next week! Ang Moh finally has some property to call his own! I think I'll raise some rabbits... yes that seems appropriate... fine I'll just get a mint plant for the kitchen window!

Sparks fly on the First Day... Seriously They Did!

So its my first official day in Singapore and what trouble have I gotten into in this new land you may ask?

First things first, all those warnings about the humidity were lies... bold face lies I tell you... cause the reality is far... far... far worse than you could image.

Within 20-minutes of arriving at our new home in Tampines, 10-minutes drive from Changi Airport, I had sweated through my t-shirt, jeans and everything underneath. I looked as if I had been out in the morning storm and it wasn't that comfortable kind of wetness that you get after jumping into a pool with all your clothes on. Its that sticky kind of feeling, where your clothes feel like the weigh a ton and are clinging to you like chain-mail.

A quick remedy to this, take the coldest shower of your life and that causes all your sweaty pores to close right up. By the time you've dried and gotten into a nice t-shirt and shorts, the unbearable heat actually feels as if it drops to a more acceptable range. I would definitely recommend avoiding heavy fabrics like knits, denim or wool, they are fashionable death traps! If you are not going to be inside and air conditioned, completely abandon socks unless totally necessary! Believe me, your nose will thank you at the end of the first hour in Singapore!

Next up after unpacking all our clothes was setting up some of our electronics. Now this is the one thing I should mention with EXTREME WARMING! Never plug a surge protector from North America into an outlet in Asia. Even with a voltage converter it will not work! A surge protector is literally designed to dissipate sudden spikes of electricity and it completely bypasses the converter.

The end result is your boyfriend suddenly jumping back from a sparking surge protector, a whine of an electronic origin and then smoke rising from the eight power outlets on the surge protectors face... and then you have one very dead surge protector that will never work again! Just go buy a local one and a few more converters, it will save you from having to toss out a melted piece of smoking plastic.

About two-hours after arriving and one 'almost' fire it was off to the stores for a new SIM phone card, a key to be made and grocery shopping. Driving on the other-side of the road wasn't too much of a surprise, I've been in Europe before and even driven a bit so its not that odd to me. But in Singapore, the traffic is so much faster and more congested that your mind that has been trained to drive on the right side of the street keeps screaming every car is going to collide with you head on! It was like ducking in and out in a crowd and I quickly declared mentally to myself I would never... and I mean NEVER drive in this country.

However watching the motor bikes and scooters snake in and out of the traffic congestion was fun, they were like fish in those Shark Week documentaries, darting around those much bigger bodies without fear of being crushed and seeming to know where every short cut existed on these ever changing streets.

I quickly announced that the moment I had a job and enough money to afford an apartment, I would love to drive one of those bikes. My boyfriend was quick to point out the last time I had just a regular street bike in Philadelphia during college I had been hit by cars no less than three times in a year, with a motor bike he felt as if I was just going to double that number. I was quick to point out that only one of those impacts was with a moving car, the other two had been a parked car and a pedestrian... but that didn't help my case one bit and I conceded... for now.

Back to the shops, malls here are not like the one's back home, where going from one to another to shop means driving in the car for a few miles. In Singapore, its walking across the street! The only distinction between one to another is the fact they lay only a few hundred feet apart, the stores in each are different enough you won't even notice the transition.

We had lunch in a food court like place called East Link. This was no hawker center that I have heard all about, more like something you'd find back home with row table seating. The only difference was that they served only Asian food and my stomach was desperately hankering for a hoagie... for you none East Coast natives that a cold, lunch meat sandwich.

I do not recommend eating duck in front of people, yes the salted and roasted meat is among the most delicious thing I have ever had the chance to sink my teeth into but the bones... that is my one complaint about duck, the bones are browned to the point its almost unnoticeable from the meat and biting into it means chewing about to get rid of them. Don't even think of ordering this dish if you want to present yourself as an articulate and savvy Human being because eating this dish is going to make you look like a dog with a chew toy, all teeth, gnawing and gross, pained faces. Best tip, use a fork to hold down your slice of juicy meat and spoon to tear the bone free. Oh and there are no dinner knives! Cooking knives yes for slicing and dicing, meal-time knives are a nope as far as I saw in this place.

I adore a nice roasted duck with some white rice below it... but never will I again eat it in public!

Once we were done our meal it was back into the crowds of the mall. Now if the streets of Singapore are congested and crowded, the crowds in the malls were worse. But instead here the people were like the motor bikes, the fish darting in and out between the sharks, minus the sharks. In three hours walking about I only bumped into two people, emphasis on bumped, no epic impacts, no landing on my butt, nothing. I even apologized for the hits, they were my fault after all because I kept trying to read every sign but not a person paid it any attention. In NYC, you'd be cursed at, called an idiot, something unsavory about your mother would be uttered and then with a flip of the middle finger before the stranger would disappear down the street. In Singapore, it didn't even register as worth a glance back.

I attempted to buy a SIM card, in order to get a number in Singapore to use in my job hunting. SingTel is the one I'd recommend, they are the most numerous I've seen so far (I've only been around the airport and the east side of Singapore so take my words with a grain of salt) but you can top off your phone card at any drug store like 7-Eleven... Yes, they have those here too! Overall you can get around a card for S$30 (Singaporean Dollars) and every minute costs around S$0.16. Number one thing to bring is your passport. All disposable phones, data plans and/or calling cards have to be registered with the government and a United States drivers license is not enough. Took 30-minutes of hashing out the best phone plan for me only to find out I couldn't even buy it. Well now we have an new errand to run tomorrow!

The last activity of the day was some grocery shopping. Now other than a few things, the grocery store in Singapore is mostly the same as it is at home. Produce section, deli counter, heck most of the items save a few Asian additions is almost the same. There are even a lot of Western brands among the items, I even got a nice slab of Virginia Peppered Ham for lunch sandwiches tomorrow! Of course the one aspect to take quick note of it that some of the prices really swing from the high to low points. A lot of the meats in the deli section seemed very cheap compared to at home... but the confectionary treats... like Ben & Jerry's ice cream... was outright highway robbery!

S$23.00 for one pint... a PINT of ice cream. Don't believe me, here's a picture to back up my outlandish claims!

And now for what you've all been waiting for, I have met the boyfriend's Singaporean parents and they seemed to have welcomed me. I know the concept of two men being in a relationship in this country is probably new verging on alien. Singapore is just around where the USA was in the 1980s and 1990s when people were just starting to come to the conclusion that homosexuality wasn't truly a mental condition or a life choice but something your born with. Now Singapore is a bit of a conservative society and has a long way to go but they have embraced the world of modern media and information with a zeal that would make some people's head spin and they know for a fact the LGBT community exists. I honestly do expect they will go through the evolution of LGBT rights a lot fast than most of Asia, almost certainly at a rate that will make the United States feel some degree of shame over how it's dragged it feet on the issue. Change and evolution is coming and Singapore definitely is a place where it seems to be the fabric of the very society itself.

I will admit I was anticipating some reservation on the parent's part, maybe not outright confrontation or fighting but more of uncertainty at entering into a new situation you have no previous experience with. After all our level of interaction over the last three-years has been limited to a few sporadic Skype video sessions and one totally unplanned encounter in Macy's two-years ago (don't ask, just know irony and confusion were the themes of that meeting).

Perhaps I'll save our interactions for a later post, I want to spend some time getting to know them, to integrate into the family as much as I can before I allow any opinions to formulate.

Well jet lag is setting in and it is probably best I pass out soon, I'm going 38-hours no sleep and must be presentable to the family.

Good night and best wishes from the Ang Moh newly arrived in the Far East!

I've Landed... in Deutschland

So this post is delayed, more or less because I don't have data enabled on any of my mobile devices while traveling abroad and can't find a decent Wifi hotspot because I'm too damn cheap to pay $4 for only an hour.

I have landed... in Frankfurt!

Yep, there are no direct, non-stop flights to Singapore, well there are but again, too damn cheap to take them. So that means a stop-over in Germany for two-hours while they clean/fumigate the plane before letting us re-board and continue on.

Right now I've been in flight for around ten-hours and boy are my arms tired... no seriously, I somehow managed to prop myself in the corner of my seat at just the perfect angle to make everything in my body twist and contort like a yoga instructor. I feel like I have the bones of a 70-year old, and considering my grandmother just hit 75 and still swims daily I should probably now shut up.

Thoughts so far, I am happily impressed with Singapore Airlines. How do I describe it to those who have never flown abroad one of her planes before, imagine you are in a fancy hotel lobby, the kind you see in a Mad Men-esque episode, where you feel you have to dress in a suit and carry a drink to look far more proper and poised when you know your lying through your teeth. Now put that Mad Men hotel lobby on a plane and that's what you feel like on Singapore Airlines. By far one of the nicest flights I've been on, considering I'm just an economy-class passenger... for the third time, I'm cheap!

Everything they have is adjustable to your needs, like when that person sitting in front of you inevitably leans their seat back, the television screen can tilt up, the tray table doesn't end up in your chest and the headrest can mold to any odd angle you try to work your neck in. All the stewards and stewardesses talk in whispers, not too quiet to hear but as if they don't want to startle you as they ghost about the cabin in their silent slippers. Even the glare of the overhead lights in an otherwise darken night cabin somehow seemed subdued.

That's I guess that the theme is in this hotel lobby-like plane, everything is subdued and just seems to glide along like a perfectly choreographed production.

I was fortunate to get a seat by the window, don't ask how I used my ninja skills because I honestly just picked a row the day before take off that had the least number of people in it. The odds were in my favor because from my window, the center seat in our row was empty and the row seat was held by a small man who was easy to dive over when I inevitably had to use the bathroom 11-times during the voyage... Hey! I drink like a fish and pee like a race horse... Wow, that sounds terrible.

So right now its waiting out the final 45-minutes left until the second round take off of my plane. I don't know how my boyfriend is doing, due in part because he booked his ticket much earlier than me and instead of taking Singapore Airlines the whole way, he instead is taking the Virgin Air route to London, then transferring to a Singapore Airlines flight back home. Ironically he left two-hours before me but will be arriving an hour after me, the perks of being on the same plane the whole time means your lay-over time is far, far shorter.

Well time to see how deep I can get into my next book while I wait for them to mop out the carnage of my last flight. Keep you update, landing will be at 6:50 AM Singapore Time, which will be 6:50 PM East Coast Time.

American Departure

At 8:50 PM, the Ang Moh vaulted through JFK airport security, only being stopped by the TSA three times (new personal best!) and boarded his plane for Singapore Airlines.

He wishes everyone reading a heartfelt goodbye and well wishes! 21-hours until D-Day... or S-Day... you know what I mean... just go with it!

Load Up the Pack Mule

So it comes down to my oldest nemesis, the bully of my elementary school days that continued to haunt me all the way into college... MATH... Yes, math, even if calculators have broken down this thug, I am still forever taunted by its awful integers and its useless step-cousin... algebra...

That is what you have to contend with when packing for a move to another country because almost every airline has a weight allowance these days. Singapore Airlines has deemed two bags weighing 23 kg (50 pounds) that can be checked for economy passengers, because lets face it, you don't put a ceiling on something and every idiot is going to try and take a grand piano or a refrigerator bag on-board.

Now everyone figures that 40 kg (100 pounds) is more than enough to fit everything... until you realize you aren't coming back and everything you bring is going to be it for at least 6 months, a year, maybe longer. So then your packing is broken down into four categories:

• What can I take?
• What can I leave behind but can take in a future trip back?
• What's going to storage for good?
• What's getting tossed, sold or sent to charity?

Once you break down these categories you can see a lot of your clothes and most of your furniture is getting tossed, sold or carted off to the Red Cross. I have a lot of shirts, left over from two-years working in retail and getting an excellent discount, but I have a habit of selecting only a few to wear depending on the season. So the Red Cross made off with four very large bags of dress shirts, sweaters, even assorted sneakers, some with the tags still on them. 

Now if you're like me and on a tight budget while unemployed, saving as much cash while going abroad is a big thing!

You could sell them off at thrift shops or consignment stores, places like Plato's Closet can give you a decent dollar for them. Don't expect much out of them... you are not going to break the bank on your pile of unworn garments... you won't even hit the half way mark, but if you want some quick cash, got a lot of clothes and are a bit too broke to be so generous to the Red Cross, they are your best bet. 

But clothing isn't the only thing you're going to be bringing. You are most likely going to toss in some electronics, some keepsakes like books or jewelry, most probably a relative is going to present you with a gift that comes with the expectation you are going to use it in your new home. 

In my case it was my Xbox 360. Yeah girls, roll your eyes, but I'm a guy and until I find a job, I am going to need some type of home distraction to keep my mind sharp and my wallet securely on the dresser. Of course I intend to explore and sight see, but unless its the necessary food to keep myself alive, my bank account is on lock down. So that is figuring out how much space I have to leave open for a 7.5-pound Xbox console. 

Easiest way to get around on this is stick it into the bag you intend to leave in the overhead compartment. They don't care what those bags weigh (D says the airline actually do care but don't bother to check), as long as they fit into the overhead you could put bricks in it for all they care... don't put bricks in it! Don't be that ass that takes my comment seriously to prove me wrong! But back on topic, use this bag for heavy things, like books, electronics, expensive items (i.e. jewelry) and most importantly shoes, the number one offender in sending your bag over the weight allowance. These all should be find because no one ever uses anything from that bag during the flight and lets face it, that bag is much less likely to disappear, get lost or end up on a flight to Guam if its only a few feet above you on the plane... I had that happen... twice... seriously what the hell is in Guam that makes my bags go there!  

What about all those papers you have to keep, even when you're abroad like:

• Insurance
• Product Warranty Codes
• Service Numbers
• Marriage Records
• Heavy Books (it's illegal, don't sell them!)

While you're at it, make digital copies of all the papers you are bringing, in case something happens and you lose everything in a fire, flood or because of theft. My social security card, a copy of my passport and my medical records that have been saved to DropBox.com, locked with the most complicated password I have ever come up with. Use words with special characters if you really want it to hit home with security... just DON'T write it down anywhere!

That's all I really have on packing. If anyone has any other tips and tricks on moving abroad on a budget let me know!

One Travel Book Down, Thirty-Two Left to Go

My second to last night in Philadelphia and my last meal with the family without fuss, a nice dinner at the kitchen table with chicken shish kabob, sweet wedges of red, green peppers sandwiching each piece of meat between them. The first words out of my sister's mouth the moment the food is whittled down to a few of the more burnt bits of meat no one is going to touch is my sister saying "What language do they speak in Singapore? Singaporese?"

And for the ten-thousandth time I try to tell her Singapore speaks English, just like Canada, Australia, Ireland, New Zealand... only to get a stare from her that hints what I'm saying isn't getting through. So I offer her up one of my travel books, the first one that I really finished, the one my Singaporean boyfriend gave to me when he first wanted to introduce me to his home country after the decision to move abroad became official.

Her inquiry on my opinion on the book inspires this post... my first travel book on Singapore... out of the thirty or so that I've gotten.

Notes From an Even Smaller Island by Neil Humphreys. I found it to be an informative book, definitely hitting several topics of both history and cultural significance that I have yet to see in most other books.

What really hit home was the kiasu phenomena among the population. This odd Singapore phrase struck me so much for some reason, since its translation literally means "scared to fail." It resonates so much with the old American phrase "keeping up with the Joneses," a fact I find more ironic since that is my surname. People in Singapore are so worried that they could lose at something, be second place or end up with any less than perfect, they are willing to do anything, even if its entirely illogical and possibly outright insane in attempting to achieve even 'perceived' success. Its continued appearance as a theme throughout the book really helped to color the culture of the country and even prepare me when I could deal with a similar situation. Read more here.

Humphrey's humor really helps to move the book along and his details on the Aunties/Uncles, the Singaporan tendency to value security over the lime light or the exception to eat all your food or appear rude are tiny tidbits that I feel all the better for know... and secretly concerned about.

Now on the con side, this book would definitely been tossed into my "To Be Sold at Bargain Store" after the first chapter or so because I did not find Humphreys' writing style all that appealing. He was informative but the tone set throughout the whole book was largely of complaining, of humorous events of culture shock and misadventures that can keep you interested for a bit. Yet fifteen chapters worth and I could hear myself muttering at the end "Shut up! Just shut up already!" in a bitter tone of annoyance that I hadn't found myself saying to a book since the time my high school made us read Catcher in the Rye... damn I still want to punch that whiny Holden Caulfield in the fact!

I'd recommend it to anyone (sister's included) but with a healthy warning of what to expect. Off onto his three sequel books, Scribbles from the Same Island, Final Notes from a Great Island and Return to a Sexy Island. Wish me luck at not punching someone... damn... too late...

Mother Nature's Slap Goodbye

I'm from New England, no matter where I've lived or worked I've always felt an affinity for the weather of north eastern coast of the United States. And like a parting wave, New England has decided to bid me farewell with its usual sweet nostalgic grace... and for those that are not native to this area such grace appears as freezing rain coupled with howling wind that can make trees snap like toothpicks and flood warnings inundating the nightly news.

Its my last weekend in Philadelphia, trapped inside due to the storm and left with my family, which leaves me with a twinge of sorrow coupled with a growing desire to throttle my younger siblings. Now I know, that's a terrible thing to say about one's siblings but all in all their attempts to understand my move to another country are often colored by the usual American preconceptions.

My brother asks me "So is Singapore a democracy or is it like China?" So I answer that "Yep, just like America", Singapore is a democracy with a Parliament, President and Prime Minster. But when I get to the fact that for most of its history independent of the United Kingdom it has been dominated by a single large party, the People's Action Party, his response is that knowing smirk that so many Americans love to gleam when they suddenly come to their own conclusion that their country is better than someone else's. "So its not really a 'democracy' then."

You can hear my growl of frustration, can't you?

My sister on the other hand, she's more hung up on the fact that gum is technically illegal in Singapore. We've told her about the culture, the food, the history and even though she's a teacher herself, she keeps erupting with new schemes to smuggle in tons or the sticky, bubble blowing goodness with startling originality and my growing concern.

My father treats it a bit like an adventure, he listens and says he wants to visit which is a good thing. My mother... she tends to get weepy as our flight date arrives and shamefully I try to change the subject to anything but us leaving when she's in the room.

But the one person that actually surprised me, who really made an effort that while carrying a tiny twinkle of disapproval but a startling interest to learn everything she could about my future home was my grandmother. When I arrived last Thursday for lunch at her house with vegetable lasagna on the table (I gag, I hate the stuff but will never tell her that!) and instead of giving me the usual topics of conversation most of my family has brought up when I tell them we are moving... "Do they have cell phones and the internet?"... "Can they speak English?"... "Is the food weird?"... she actually had spent the day at the local library (Yes, they still have those) finding every book she could on Singapore. Well a local town library only had three books but by God she had read them all and prepared talking points and questions she wanted to ask me. We ended up spending nearly three hours Googling pictures and videos of Singapore so she could see the island as much as possible without having to leave her warm, well lived in town house and garden she swears that without here attention daily just seems to fall apart.

Too say I was proud of the woman is a absolute failure of words to describe what I felt at that point.

But that about sums up my two weeks home in Philadelphia with my family, running left and right trying to convince them that Singapore is no different than here, that yes it is thousands of miles away but I have always been fascinated by the number of similarities, paralleled and quirks our two countries share.

I guess right now, as I've laid out my travel books the same way I did with my text books in college, with biggest in the middle, smallest on the outside, highlighter in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other, I've been trying hour over hour... fine its been 20-minutes... to immerse myself in all things Singapore before I leave.

One of those in particular I've found to be the most informative is not the travel books, the reports I read on the US Embassy website for Singapore. It actually was a children's book my boyfriend and I got in a care bag during the 2012 Singapore Day in New York.

Yes it is a little on the heavy-handed side trying to entice people to come back to Singapore (the country has a concerning brain-drain going on against a influx of foreign immigrants) but seriously, it was the easy book a found that detailed out some really interesting facts about the history and culture of Singapore.

Did you know the Samsui women of China held a special place in the history of the construction, largely coming from China in the late 1930s to work in construction and were best known for the distinctive red hats and black scarfs they always wore. A woman construction worker, that was unheard of in that era and the Samsui ladies actually had to take a vow never to marry in order to work abroad and almost all of them actually kept it! Could you image having to leave your homeland to work abroad in order to support your family at home, but the catch was you could never marry or even fall in love. You can see the ironic parallels in my own reason to move to Singapore, leaving to follow the the guy I love but with the hope of a job to accompany that once I arrive.

Goodbye to the Big Apple

So today was our last day in New York City, in our fourth story walk-up on Ninth Avenue, right in the loud, flashy and always active core of Hell's Kitchen (for our non-New Yorkers that's the neighborhood west of Time Square with tons of great restaurants and crappy off Broadway plays.) Almost a year and a half ago we arrive two recent graduates, one with a high-scale consulting job and one wondering if he'd have to shelve his communications degree and go back to waiting tables, seriously I was applying to major corporations and the corner bistro in the same day!

19-months later I'm an experience Advertising Operations Manager (I'm the one the programs those annoying ads that follow you around on the internet and smartphone, let the hate mail flow!), who spends weekdays working in the cool shadow of the Empire State Building, summer weekends lunching in Central Park and winter nights hanging out in warm Korean ramen restaurants in K-Town.

What am I going to miss that only New York can offer? So many things you can never find anywhere else. You only have to wander off the tourist-saturated avenues, out to the west and east sides of the city where only Manhattanites dwell, these fashionable creatures who wear over-sized sunglasses, designer cloths yet swear and drink like sailors, gossip like the girls on Sex and City and believe they are as politically savvy as the diplomats over at the UN building.

Fine, I'll stop painting this elaborate picture of this rare species and start listing what I am going to miss and will be trying to find in Singapore everyday I'm there.

1. Watching big, strong and obviously uncomfortable straight guys walking their girlfriends small, tea-cup sized dogs... with no girlfriends around.
2. Hobos on the subway who wear only blankets... only blankets!
3. An old man, dressed in a bikini, with a foam statue of liberty hat, walking passed unmoved but amused cops. Seriously look!
4. A yoga studio on every corner... only matched by a Starbucks and doggy daycares every 20-feet.
5. Roller disco in walkways of Central Park.
6. Medically trained, Jewish ordained, dermatologists who advertise only on the subway.
7. Discovering your ability to parkour when trying to catch a taxi with grocery bags.
8. Rats who are more vicious and aggressive than military train dogs.
9. Tattoo parlors below psychics, offering two-for-one discount deals.
10. Paying insane prices for mac & cheese or fish tacos (tuna on tortilla chips).

Oh, there are a million other things, my favorite whiskey bar, the Big Apple Meat Market with its nearly expired discount steaks, MOMA with its questionable "art exhibits" of contemporary art/porn collections, even the clouds of pigeons that every person loves to set off when they dine on stale bread at any intersection.

But now it's Singapore where I'm going to have hundreds of new things to learn to love, find with bemused annoyance and big huffs of exasperation.

Expatriate Guilt

Alright, so the biggest thing that I have noticed while trolling almost every website and book on American emigration and expatriation is the surprising lack of emotions on moving away and being separated from your hometown (save for the endless comments on missing a good burger or having cell phone reception everywhere). Most books allocate a brief section on how hard it can be and sometimes tears are shed but really, the vast majority seem to glaze over it, like the writers somehow have blocked it out with the feeling of adventure and excitement, mixed with some comical culture shock.

And the biggest aspect of moving abroad that I have noticed is completely absent, the term I have now come declaring copyright status on... Expatriate Guilt!

Fine, people move away from their parents all the time, across the country, to every state in their grand old country, where the idea of a car/train/ferry ride home to visit becomes one of those classic 80s road trip movies. But going the next level, leaving the country, becoming an expatriate, means that a trip home has to be a precisely planned affair of packing, lay-overs and immigration/customs lines where every border agent seems more pissed off than the one before.

Expatriate Guilt becomes even more apparent when you realize what you are leaving behind, more importantly... who.

Your parents, siblings, grandparents... hell that bitchy old spinster aunt you only ever see on certain mandatory religious holidays but try desperately to avoid ... are now in another country, no longer will visiting on weekends or certain one day holidays be a possibility. Your trips home become worse than living in another state, you'll have to coordinate like NASA mission control to get home for just a week or so. And next comes the triage, what time can you visit to see the most of your family and yet avoid being drowned in the torrential floods of Thanksgiving/Christmas or summer vacation travelers.

Now lets take that horrible feeling of separation (I'm sure we have a few readers who aren't totally emotionally dead inside!) and match it with that loving but concerning level of stubbornness and a hint of xenophobia our baby-boomer parents seem to just extrude from every pore. These parental units will most often declare, "We love you honey/baby/creature who claims its my child, but we have no interest in ever visiting you in that country we've never heard of but instantly know is one of those weird, backwards countries, probably with no running water."

Now I am not nay saying on parents all over the world. Most of our parents are now in there fifties and sixties, they are in that weird twilight before retirement but their energy is sapped from thirty-years of a career they may or may not have chosen to use in order to support us when we were little kiddies. Travel to a foreign, exotic country (hell, we can even lump Canada into that) where they may or may not speak the language, where the climate is totally opposite to the one at home and certainly none of the food appears appealing for consumption, is completely, totally, absolutely, a big fat... NO!

And that leaves us back where we began, Expatriate Guilt, the feeling that you can only visit your family on an extensively planned mission that is over so quick, you feel like you never left the airport check-in counter, sprinkled with the gut wrenching knowledge that your loving but resolute parents are not going to visit.

It is something anyone moving abroad will most likely face. Be prepared for homesickness on a level you have never dealt with since your parents dropped you off on the first day of kindergarten.

Maybe this feeling is a passing one, that only appears when one is on the way out and quickly is drowned out by a new culture, language, exploration, discovery and guzzling as much as the local liquor as possible. I think I will attach that to the reasoning behind such little attention being given to this wonderful combination of elation, sadness and being kicked in the nuts - Expatriate Guilt.

Packing Up Painful Perplexities

In the wee hours of the morning (fine, it was 11:00 AM but I'm not working so its fine to sleep late!) I finally and officially booked my plane ticket on Vayama. It was with astute research, a keen eye and a whole ton of blind luck I managed to find a fairly cheap flight on Singapore Airlines.

But now it's hit me, I've set my path in motion, by actually booking my travel there, my future in a foreign country as an expatriate becomes all the more real.

Worries and fear start to set in the instant the elation is passed.

First question that springs into my mind is "Is my mom going to get all weepy once I tell her everything is set to go?" No mother wants to see her child move more than a car ride away and the last time I nearly left the country a nuclear detonation had less fire and energy than her reaction. The worries of a dissatisfied parent plagues every child. I've been reading ExpatFocus.com, and their section on the guilt of leaving your family really hits home!

Second question becomes "How am I going to fit 25-years of my life into two suitcases?" Seriously, do you remember when we were kids and someone asked "If you were stranded on a desert island and could have only one thing, what would it be?" This is the situation you face when moving abroad, without the luxury of a moving truck, packing becomes a balancing act of the cost of shipping the item against the item's cost. Instantly I know my desktop computer I've spent so long tweaking and modifying to my approval can't come, along with that amazing flat-screen television we got for the living room. I'm actually calculating how much suitcase space I'll lose in order to find some room for my Xbox 360, Kinect and assorted games and still have space left for my all time favorite books (I have like 30 favorites and I can only have 5). You can read up on some shipping tips from US to Singapore here.

Third comes down to "What clothes do I bring, what do you leave?" I've lived in six different major cities in my life (Philadelphia, Raleigh, San Francisco, Pittsburgh, Detroit, New York City) and other than San Francisco, every one of them have been in temperate climates and under the swinging pendulum from snowy winter to hot sun of summer. You know how you have that one outfit you look damn good in without any real effort, that's me with a thermal sweater, jeans and some converse. None of those will do in a country that is 85-miles north of the equator, that's less than the distance from Philadelphia to New York City! Now I have to transition my wardrobe to a country where 80F is the norm regardless if its December or July. Seriously check out this week's forecast.

Now these are just my three biggest worries, tiny and trivial ones continue to crop in occasionally. An hour ago, going through kitchen appliances that we're being boxed for storage at my parents, I actually was upset for half a second that I'd have to leave behind my coffee maker. Yes, Singapore has coffee, even 70 Starbucks locations, but still it's those tiny things that spring into your mind at the oddest moments that really catch you off guard.

So in order to placate some of my worries I've decided to take a stab at the two travel books that my boyfriend has provided to me, Neil Humphrey's "Notes From an Even Smaller Island" and his sequel a decade later, "Return to a Sexy Island". I know I am fortunate to have a personal guide to hold my hand as I enter not only Singapore for the first time but Asia itself, but still, maybe reading about someone else who has been through a similar experience could give me some perspective.