I welcome you back to rejoin me for Part 3 in my series of ‘Twelve Firsts’.  In Parts 1 & 2 we journeyed from the first day of my sojourn, July 1, 2019 in Encinitas, California, to January 1, 2020 in Bali, Indonesia.  I shared where I was, how I was feeling, and what I was doing on the first of those 7 months. Here, we pick up on February 1, 2020, and I’m in Singapore. 

 SINGAPORE IS EVERYTHING!

Todays modern skyline

High Tech Interactive Museum Exhibit – Marina Bay  Sands Center

A Singapore Sling at the historic Raffles Hotel for $25USD!

HOW DID I GET TO SINGAPORE?! Back track with me for a moment to the previous November when I reserved my flight to Bali and luxuriated in what I thought was the freedom of booking only a one way ticket to the other side of the world.  But when I attempted to check in for my December 31st flight, I learned about a very important detail of international travel – in order to be allowed into Bali, I was required to have an exit ticket!  It quickly became clear to this newly seasoned domestic road tripper that there is more to international travel than having a ticket and a valid passport!  After a quick panic and a deep breath I opened Google Maps, put my finger on Bali, and looked around.  Singapore, a direct northwest shot, and home to me when I was 14 years old, caught my attention.  Knowing the dramatic modernization it had undergone over the years, I’d been intrigued to return for a visit, but never enough to fly to the other side of the world.  Here was my opportunity.  Within a few minutes, I bought a ticket from Bali to Singapore, and successfully checked in for my flight. 

I had booked a tiny, comfortable, airbnb in the historic and now hip Joo Chiat neighborhood, walking distance to anything I could need.  After wrapping up a tedious finance focused morning (I happened to be in the middle of refinancing my home even though I was on the other side of the world), and scheduling an appointment at a local urgent care (I was suffering from a persistent infection I picked up in Bali), I headed to Arab street, an area that was recommended to me by Munirah, a new friend who I had met up with the day before. 

I can’t resist sneaking in a little about the previous day here to add a little bit more context. 

Munirah is a young woman I had connected with a few weeks before in one of my travel Facebook groups.  She had seen a post where I shared my plans to be in her home country, and enthusiastically offered to show me around.  I enthusiastically accepted.  By far, what I had learned to cherish most about traveling solo is having more freedom to personally connect with the people who live in the communities I visit – a rich opportunity to learn about lives that are so far removed from my familiar community.  My curiosity always takes the lead and I easily, naturally delve into learning the ways we are the same and different – in our joys and concerns, and how we play and work and move around in our days.  I have never walked away from these encounters without feeling warmly connected and gaining a new friend.  The day we met, we walked around Sentosa Island, a place I often visited 46 long years before when it was only accessible by ferry or a short cable car ride over the ocean.  But now it’s a short stroll over a causeway that was built in the ’80’s, just a few years after I left.  I felt strange and disorientated as I remembered my 14 year old self in the same place with my mother at my side and all the memories surrounding that time.  Munirah and I grabbed a beer at a beach bar, went deep into sharing stories of our lives and discussed the “Wuhan Virus” that was beginning to make daily headlines.  Today’s news reported the first confirmed Singaporean case, and that China’s death toll had now risen to 258.  As it turned out this was to be the beginning of my personal journey of living in the midst of what would soon become a global pandemic, one that hadn’t been seen since the Spanish Flu in 1918.  Since my arrival in Singapore, I had naively popped into every neighborhood store looking for hand sanitizer or a mask, but all I found were ‘sold out’ signs.  Eventually, I realized that my search was fruitless and I needed to push the ominous feeling away and stay present in my experience here.

After a few hours with Munirah, she gave me some exploring tips for her hometown and we parted ways.  My new friend and person of safety in this faraway place would only be a WhatsApp message away, and we moved apart in opposite directions, our minds full of what we just learned in our time together, and a little of where we each would be going next.  And this finally brings us back to February 1 as I made my way to Arab street. 

         Arab Street is color!

The buildings and the goods and the restaurants and the people, and the towering, exquisite Sultan mosque at the center of it all.

The outdoor bars are alive with a melding of multiple nationalities and generations among backdrops of modern, bright, creative, murals.  I was fascinated as I observed the young and hip bar hoppers mixing and moving among the more traditional worshipers. I appreciated that Munirah had told me to listen for the midday prayers, as right at noon the energy shifted and the chants permeated throughout the square.  I paused for this moment, acutely aware of how far away from home I was, nothing familiar,  just me in the crowd, standing there, absorbing the feelings of awe and exhilaration.  Would Munirah experience these kinds of feelings on the other side of her world, I wondered?

After wandering through the shops and street stands for a long while, I was ready for food. With the abundant restaurant options, I could have been overwhelmed, but Munirah made it easy for me and I skipped my own research, opting to go with her recommendation of the Kampong Glam Cafe, an inexpensive spot serving mostly locals.  Situated on a busy corner amongst buzzing flies that no one else seemed to notice, it serves traditional Singaporean food catering to the melting pot that Singapore is – Indian, Malaysian, Chinese and Western dishes are all offered.  I found my way to the end of the cafeteria style line, and when I got to the cashier I pointed to the picture of the Nasi Lemak, a Malaysian dish that is Munirah’s favorite, and watched her assemble my plate. I then found my way to a wobbly table and a red plastic chair before I realized I wasn’t given a napkin and had to return to the cashier to get one.  I felt embarrassed when she informed me, in front of the other customers, that they were only available for purchase.  I waited in the line again to purchase what was in effect a small packet Kleenex for about a nickel.  Finally I sat with my meal in front of me and paused once again to marvel at this unique experience that now included an unfamiliar collection of food, and I wondered how someone decided this would be a good combination.  I let go of everything I knew and ate, fully enjoying each bite as I imagined the customers around me were doing.

It had been a full day –  the heat, humidity and the Singapore city grit had wiped me out, all my senses exhausted.   I begin to feel the depth of how exhausting it can be to explore and navigate outside of my home country.  And, it feels so worthwhile!  I climbed onto the #2 bus handed a Singapore dollar to the driver for the 35 minute ride back to my neighborhood, and called it a day.