It seems an age ago that I was frolicking and sweating profusely in Singapore, but its only been a few weeks. What seems certain though, is that I will return. You're probably thinking, ok she's been there twice now, its one tiny iddy-biddy island that isn't even big enough to appear on a world map (the 'S' from 'Singapore' usually hides it), and its so incredibly humid there. Why would she want to go back?
How it all started..
Well, for those who don't know, or pretended not to listen when I told them, my fascination with the little place began in GCSE Geography. We were studying urban populations, and my teacher played us a video demonstrating two different civilisations and their management of urbanites. On one end of the scale was Karela in India - one of the poorest most destitute areas you can live. Poverty and pollution, jammed into one dense city. And then on the other end of the scale, was Singapore. Believe it or not, I had hardly heard of this country before I was 16. But then I watched the video, which began with a narration that went like ' every morning in Singapore at 5am sharp, robo-gardeners get up and water all the roadside plants.' I was mighty impressed. And then it went on about this utopic society (yes, that word was used), and how crime is unheard of, elevators lock shut and call the police when traces of urine are detected, and how the city was an Asian hub at the centre of business, commerce and technology. More interestingly, though a democracy, the government were literally autocratic in how they controlled every single aspect of life, and their autocracy even seemed to be working. Oh, and by god, they spoke english. The first and only south east asian country I knew which spoke english as a first language. I was so intrigued by this nation, that I made a mental note of researching it further, perhaps even travel there. Because it just so happened I had an auntie who resided in Singapore.
Did you know my last and most enjoyable thesis I ever wrote was on the innovation strategy of Singapore? Yes I admit, I enjoyed writing a thesis. Shoot me. I won't bore you with the details, but every facet of life in that country was planned, monitored and controlled. People go about their lives happily, supposedly in support of their government. Whether they are or not doesn't really matter, because the government is untouchable and any rumours of corruption from rival parties wipe clean off their backs.
Anyway, that was then, and this is now. Between then and now, I visited Singapore in the hottest bloody season I could have picked, and despite picking up sixteen mosquito bites ON ONE ARM and losing my cherished brand new camera after 14 days, I managed to see all the tourist sights and enjoy them too.
And I'm still fascinated by this place. Whether its a fascination translating to me wanting to live there, or a sort of science experiment fascination (poke, observe and poke some more), i'm still not sure. But I'm here to relive and retell my experience, which luckily included swinging by Malaysia and Thailand too, so maybe along the way I'll figure it out.
The Journey This Time Round
For anyone who's been to Changi airport, you would know it was spotlessly clean and incredibly modern. However, for anyone who's been to a lot of airports, you would know that after a long flight, you just step out quite nauseously from the airplane and then every arrivals terminal smells like carpet, with what feels like a mile's trek to passport control, accompanied by some elevator music wafting in the background.
EK and her mum kindly picked me up at Changi, whereupon collecting my luggage and heading with steely resolve towards the exits, I braced myself for a blast of hot, stuffy, unbreathable air which would hit me and stay with me for the rest of my trip. As the doors opened, I was relieved to find moreso a torrent of warm humid air hit me - aaah i thought to myself, this ain't so bad.
On this trip, I didn't do too much of the tourist stuff that I had already done last time, moreso i wanted to experience what it would be like to live there, day to day living, which would be more useful if I ever wished to move to this side of the world.
I did things like go to the supermarket and local shopping mall, watch some movies at the cinema, eat out at the hawker centres, even sampled the nightlife. (more on that later). I did however have a stroll in popular ethnic haunts like Chinatown, Malay Village, Little India and Arab Street. Unfortunately for me, my one foray into Arab Street, famous for its numerous shisha lounges, happened to occur at Ramadan, meaning literally everything was closed and shisha didnt begin until after 7pm when their break their fasting. (*mutters 'just my bleddy luck' under breathe*)
Chinatown
I just find it so queer that they've got a metro stop named 'Chinatown'. Now that i think about it, the same is said for New York, so it must be just me. I was warned beforehand that these ethnic spots have no air conditioning, which, I cannot deny, scared the living bejeezus outta me. Although 
the weather wasnt so bad, I was still scarred from my previous visit when showering three times a day just wasnt enough, dammit!
In Chinatown, its surprisingly quite pleasant. All the little pagodas are here, with lashings of red and gold everywhere you see. T
he Mid Autumn Festival was comin up too, which I suppose added to the lavishness and decorations. As well as this, theres a pretty big indoor shopping mall (and since its chinatown, its cheaper than high street, naturally) and a hawker centre too.
What I find fascinating about hawker centres, is that they all look like honest locals peddling honest food, but every centr
e has its hidden gems that have built a reputation, and you wouldn't know it until its too late and the queue is already fifty feet, like on the right. In this case, this particular stall sold the best peking duck rice, (EK queued for a piece of the action, left) and another one made quality beancurd and fishball soup, and you can see it all right here.
You know in Singapore, there is no state pension? Ok, to put it more interestingly, people of all ages fend for themselves, and work themselves up until the time they can hardly walk, and even then they'll use a cane and work slowly but dilligently. There was a lady around us who must have been around seventy or eighty, willfully working the hawker tables, leaning heavily on them as she went by, pouring drinks and taking back the soda cans for recycling, in order to get a few dollars for herself. It was so odd to see it, as I know eastern cultures regard their elderly with much more respect than in the west, where the notion is they get sent to nursing homes when theyre not much use anymore. Additionally, you'll see smiling OAPs cleaning the tables and offering to take your trash for you at McDonalds here, whereas in England, you'd get a teena