Geylang Adventure

1-11-09
The story you are about to read will hopefully top the shock and awe segments of my blog spot. If it gets any worse than this then culture shock may land me bedside for the remainder of my session abroad. Recall that in my previous entry I mentioned surviving a prostitute’s proposition. HA! When all was said and done it was just a light tap on the shoulder, some unfamiliar gestures and several uncomfortable moments of conversation. The relative cat calls I received in Clark Quay pale in comparison the roar of Singapore’s true beast. They call her Geylang...
Until my weekend excursion I mistakenly believed I was exploring the “real” Singapore by adventuring past the malls and instead slipping through alleyway markets far from the financial district. I found out through some locals that there are at least three sides to Singapore and until now I’d only been privy to those meant for tourists. The first side of Singapore is the all out tourist areas where life is overpriced, the streets are clean and everyone speaks English. The second side is the less touristy areas where prices drop, it’s not quite as decorated and the people speak Singlish. The final side consists of local areas where life is cheap, the streets are littered with workers and the people speak Engrish. This is the tale of my march through the land of the locals. To quote a close friend, “don’t feed the animals.”
So, 8 pm rolls around and as near bye apartment lights begin to flicker in front of a dimming summer skyline my roommates and I start the cliché’ discussion about how best to enjoy our Saturday night. By the time ten o’clock came calling Kasper, Lorenz (our local friend), Mikko and I had decided that the bar seen was becoming a little too rehearsed. We wanted something different and a description of Geylang sounded like just the thing. (Now I know what you’re thinking... what is this Geylang? Well... One of Singapore’s funny laws is that possession of porn will run you a couple grand in fines, but prostitution... that’s okay. In other words you can buy it; you just can’t watch it. Geylang is a six by six block area where prostitution is not only condoned but also taxed. That’s right dear friends you can pay with your VISA card if you find yourself in a pinch... Sure takes everywhere you want to be to a whole new level, but I digress). We jumped onto the MRT and gleefully glided our way towards the appropriate stop. Upon arrival our fearless leader, Lorenz, led us confidently towards our intended target. Along the way he explained how the street system worked. “The first block,” he said, “was full of cheap tricks and as you meander through the next six blocks the quality and price will rise proportionally.” After a short few minutes of walking Lorenz was waving the three of us into the danger zone. Once inside, the streets came alive with an unfamiliar madness. Girls of all shapes and sizes stood like a group of zombies hungrily waiting for this evening’s meal. The four of us cruised down the middle of the street thinking we could survey from a distance. We thought wrong. The girls came running out to us touching, grabbing, and throwing out random bits of Engrish. “Oh, you so handsome,” and “me love you long time.” Both are HUGE down here and I wonder... Did Hollywood got that one started or vice versa? Anyway, we crossed our way through the human trade markets passing Thais, Koreans, Indians and Russians. We saw young and old, the successful and unsuccessful, the tyranny’s, the boys, the pimps, the bouncers and loads of cops. Trust me when I say that it’s more extreme than any image I can convey with words.
· Most surprising portion of the evening was...
o Witnessing women in sari’s working the same corner as girls wearing exactly what you’d expect. I found that confusing because I have always associated that style of dress with such a high level of morality. Apparently it’s an identification of religion, but it is also a style of dress.
· Favourite part of the experience was...
o Seeing the fish tanks. Fish tanks are seedy one story dormitory type of shops with tile floors which use a unique florescent pink light for identification. Anyway, once you’re inside they’re all exactly the same. You’ll see a couch on the right opposite a large glass wall. Behind the window lies a trove of ladies dressed to the nine and identified by the numbers on their shoulders. As soon as you enter they erupt into a chorus of cheers and waves. Ideally the manager expects you to chill on the couch and once you’ve picked your girl she’ll lead you back to a dorm room and you’ve got 45 minutes for whatever. It could be the most degrading sight I’ve ever scoped! If Singapore has a footprint then this is what it looks like.
· Most electrifying portion of the evening... Watching my roommate conjure his inner samurai.
o As the night progressed our posse was forced into single file along the now overcrowded sidewalks and streets. Understandably, whoever led the pack was subject to a majority of the evening ladies vexation. Mikko was first to jump into the alpha position and strolled fearlessly through his leg of our adventure. After which, Lorenz and I passed through our portion in the hero’s walk without a notable affair. Then, just as yesterday went to sleep, Kaspers stepped up to the plate. A noticeable chill crept into my sensory, prompting me to sneak in between Mikko and Lorenz. In the beginning, Kasper dared not walk the sidewalks for fear of the now weary ladies; choosing instead to venture on the road. Soon, however, his confidence grew and he began to brush hips with the zombie like creatures. He quickly became a mad man hell bent on crop dusting everything in his path. After a successful few minutes of rampaging through the crowd he grew overconfident and dropped both his hands and his guard to his side. It was then that the surrounding army of darkness decided to make its move on us. As the Kasper aimlessly strolled along the mean streets of Geylang two of those quirky spooks leaped towards his holstered right arm. Kaspers laxed peripheral vision and perverted Finnish training barely reacted in time and he was forced into a desperate flailing manoeuvre. A grazing strike led by a random thrashing right arm provoked the desired response of retreat from the foremost aggressor. The fortune of said swat owing no small portion of its success to the overbearing western weight encouraging its momentum. Kasper quickly circled to his left and took an intentional hack at his second, and fast approaching attacker. The upper half of her body forcefully swung with his momentous chop. Her body flopped hard into a clearing on the street side. Kasper stood calm, swallowed a deep breath of the cool night air and surveyed the crowd during his following exhausted exhale. Next he reared his head towards the moon and let out a Finnish warriors cry (which sounds something like this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5mW8QnZ8mwo) . Only a few moments after the drama had began it was over and we walked safely behind our leader. I could smell the stench of a certain excited bacterial infection as I stepped over the girls on our way to the car. That was the extent of my exciting sojourn in Geylang and I hope you enjoyed :).

1-8-09

Salutations,

My friends on the other side of the globe; I apologize for the lack of updates, but I was under the impression that only members could read my blog. Since my site has but five affiliates I thought no one was following my adventures so I stopped posting. It’s nice to know that plenty of people are in fact reading my entries and I promise to keep the stories coming on a much more consistent basis. In any case, fear not friends, for my life here has not gone stagnant. I have plenty of entertaining experiences to share. I have persevered through Christmas with the Euros, the search for roommates, the hunt for an apartment, the immigration office, tourist traps, the first week of class, being propositioned by hookers, nights out in the city and all the tribulations that come with clashing cultures and sprawling unfamiliar landscapes. Danny Sizemore, a mentor of mine, once taught that writing should be brief and concise so although I could write for days on my recent experiences I will instead skirt through the past couple weeks in record time.

Christmas with the Euros in Singapore was certainly unique. In every Asian county I have inquired about (including Korea, Japan, Laos, Malaysia, Thailand, and of course Singapore) Christmas is celebrated much differently than what were used to. Instead of the family sitting around a warm fire on a cold winter morning bit, they got out with friends and party like it’s the day before tomorrow (btw bars aren’t obligated to close at 2 in the morning here… actually they don’t have to close at all…). Anyway, most everyone staying at the hostel was a young twenty something and, like me, spending their first Christmas away from family. So, on the 25th I gathered outside with a bakers dozen and we hosted our own celebration. We stayed up late exchanging pleasantries and cheap gifts all the while drinking beer and very cheap wine. We tapered off around 3 in the morning, but it wasn’t until 6 or so when the distant sounds of overplayed techno stopped dancing through the old European style street that surround Sleepy’s. Like the rest of this entire ordeal, it was a once in a lifetime experience.

The day after, while folks back in the states were busy celebrating, I was looking for roommates and an apartment. Thankfully I had plenty of options for both. The logical order of business is to find roommates then go check out a place. The exchange students had all been networking for days to find like minded people with the proper chemistry. Once I shared a pint with Mikko and Kasper I knew I had found two class acts. The three of us decided that we would mix and match until all was right. Finding the right people was easy, finding a proper flat was tough and finding a quality real estate agent in Singapore was damn near impossible. The worst of all of them was this cute little S’porian agent by the name of Adolyn. She spent her nights loitering around the hostel schmoozing and networking to fill her unused units. Eventually her nightly round put us in contact and on the 27th she took the three of us out and showed off 5 or 6 available units. Working with Adolyn was like dealing with all the worst parts of every used car salesman from America to India. She couldn’t avoid spewing bullshit the entire time we were together. She didn’t know that I had been in Singapore for almost a week and as we toured the area surrounding her units she told us that, “this area is unique because there’s a shopping center so close” and “look here’s a food court… there’s so few here.” I kept trying to tell her that I’d been here a week and she didn’t have to keep lying, but there was no stopping her. Then came the close… she tried the most basic hard close techniques I’d ever seen. The same stuff they taught me at 24 hour fitness in three weeks. I might have tried negotiating with her for a good deal as she seemed vulnerable and new to the game, but I just couldn’t stand to look at that schmuck anymore. Anyway Mikko, Kasper and I did end up finding a good guy to rent from and we found terrific roommates. This is a picture of all of us spending part of New Years together… look how happy we are!




So Jack is the one toed up and on the cameras left. He’s an American from the east coast and he’s actually living above us. That’s Mikko between Jack and myself. Mikko is from Finland. The guy on the far right is Kasper and he’s also from Finland. Those two are some of the nicest guys you could ever meet. Both smart as a whip too… they speaks Finnish, Swedish, and English very fluently. The guy to my immediate left is Florian. He’s a crazy German house dancing machine, but get ‘em into the club and he’s trouble!!! The two girls below are Sarishta (on the right) and Alina. I’m so glad we have some girls living with us! They represent the Yin to the Yang inside our humble abode and have already taught me lots about living with girls. Anyway, I’ll finish some writing tonight and post the updates tomorrow…

12-24-08

I will share with you all the story of the Thai massage. Between all of us exchange students seeking to foster comradery it has become the stuff of legends; a continual joke at my expense. When I arrived in Singapore I was one of the first exchange students at Sleepy Sam’s hostel. I settled in and, as you know, began to explore the terrain immediately. The days began to pick up speed and before I knew it I was four days deep down here. The heat is inescapable. The only relief to be found is inside where the welcoming embrace of air conditioning awaits. Take two steps outside and without years of acclimation you will begin to leak like a sieve. I had continuously wondered for days, endlessly afloat in a sea of unseen. The sights, smells and sounds spurred me beyond normal fatigue. On day four I wondered into a block I hadn’t yet seen and found an entire street dedicated to massage parlors. With my ear buds plugged in, courtesy of Christmas and my big bro, I could not hear what the girls in front these parlors were chanting while I passed. Minutes later I sat down at a near by food court and realized what a toll the last couple days had taken on my body. What a treat it would be to settle into a comfy bed and let someone coax my muscles into relaxation! So, after my meal, I moseyed back towards “Massage Avenue.” I stepping into some parlor and some hostess usher me towards some back room. A young Thai girl came in and since my shirt did not bare enough, she instructed me to take off my jeans as well. I should have known something was amiss because as I obliged she stayed… During the entire ordeal she kept grazing uncomfortably close to the family jewels until finally she told me to “flip over.” As I turned onto my back my eyes were met with a doe eyed stair that only a young teenager can muster. She took a serious tone and quietly whispered, “You want happy ending? No charge for you… I like you!” It was all I could do not to role and laugh hysterically. It really happens… They really do say it; just like in the movies! So now whenever something happens be it an awkward situation, an accidental nudge, whatever… we’ve been saying “you want happy ending?” And that story is where it came from.

P.S. no I am not a pedophile… I did not get a happy ending…

12-22-2008

The expression “when it rains it pours” must have been thought up in Singapore. All was quite on the eastern front as I sat outside Sam’s conversing with some Europeans. Europeans love hostels by the way. I looked at the brit to my right and said, “is it going to rain today? Those sure look like rain clouds.” Within minutes it began to drizzle, then a downpour so heavy you can’t see two blocks in front of you! Later, I met up with my Singapore buddy. Her name is Shan Wan Loo. After yesterdays adventures I slept very well and found myself well rested for another day of the same. Shan showed up around noon and off we went. She led me past tall and beautiful buildings, through crowded streets, and into yet more of the unknown. First we stopped to eat, the Singaporeans always eat. It’s their vice down here and yet for some reason, everyone is still fit and toned. I ate at a café I recognized from an episode of “no reservations.” We indulged in pork soup dumplings. It’s exactly what it sounds like and OMG it’s amazing. Next, she took me to my host university SMU which was exquisitely designed. An absolute must in order to fit inside this city. I told her that I needed a converter to charge my laptop. After which she promptly lead me to a mall entirely dedicated to electronics. As we walked through, I overheard several heated discussions and asked my chaperon what all the commotion was about. She informed me that large purchases could be bartered down and that everyone was simply trying to get a better deal. After purchasing my converter I asked if there was a tall building where I could access the top floor. Indeed there was, it was the tallest building in Singapore and it’s just across the street from SMU. How fortuitous given my love of architecture. Shan and I sat in discussion for hours 70 stories up exploring some of the differences between our cultures. All the while, nursing a dramatically overpriced Tiger beer. After hours of conversation Shan took her leave and left me to my continual exploration and observations. She sure is nice though! All the other exchange students staying at the universities recommended hostel had buddies that had either not been in contact or were currently out of the country… Lucky me! The rest of the day went well, as will tomorrow I’m sure.

12-21-08

Finally, after several helpful interactions with the locals, I arrived at my destination. An email from Sleepy Sam’s, my hosting hostel, said that behind a door code I would find directions on what to do. Behind the door code I found nothing. I was, however, too excited to be flustered so I set my bags inside and began to wait. I am becoming quite accustomed to waiting. Around two hours later a small Malaysian showed up and explained that she misinterpreted my email. When I said I was arriving at 1 on the morning of the 21st she decided that I didn’t need a bed until that night. Oh well… what can be done now? In this situation, my accommodations were occupied and I thought “fuck it, I’m out!” So I left my bags behind to the safety of my hostel. This city is extremely clean. Stepping off the train at first mornings light I found someone around nearly every block sweeping and tending to the landscape. Their passion for cleanliness did not decline, but persevered throughout the days heat. I quickly passed an Indian who was working a cliché looking café and I decided that some morning coffee would serve well towards the day’s activities. It was only 60 cents for a delicious, though overly sweetened, cup of extremely potent Joe. It was just the pick me up I needed to walk around all day. Quickly I found myself surrounded by the unfamiliar, hearing languages I do not know, in a culture I do not yet understand. I love it; this is EXACTLY what I came here to do! So I wandered aimlessly for hours through packed malls and past street vendors lined up like an overly crowded farmers markets. I continued trekking around and knocked off a couple more musts from my to-do list. I got my ears lowered, ate some local food, and yes I did get lost. The only rule of thumb was I had to be back by 5 to get my room key. I gave myself two hours to find my way back to the hostel, which unfortunately was way too much time. Right after I got my key and received my instructions I went back out to the streets to pick up where I had left off. I think I could continue eating and exploring this place for the rest of my life. It’s a blast and now it’s time for bed… Goodnight!

12-20-2008

We’ve all had those moments when you’re stuck searching for something you were just using. You know it’s not lost, but you don’t know where it is. Today that’s how I feel. I’m not lost; I just have no clue where I am. I’ve already checked a must off my list though. After 10 hours of flying to Japan the sun finally caught up with me just as our plane entered Tokyo airspace. The skies were packed with holyday travelers so the pilot explained that we would be in the air for the next forty five minutes or so. Murmurs and groans waved through the travelers aboard. I was not among those partaking in the unrest. Our plane began to bank left and right in continual sweeping race like maneuvers. All the while, the sun began to set behind Mount Fuji and faded from view just as we touched down. I’ll tell you it was quite a sight. Phase I was behind me and, after an 8 dollar Sapporo and a two hour wait, I spent my eight hour connection to Singapore resting. Next thing I knew I was filling out a customs form at an international checkpoint. Phase II also complete. Onward I pressed, through customs and into the Changi terminal. Along the way I passed indoor gardens which rivaled the vegetation you’d expect to see in a tropical rainforest. Imagine hallways lined with ivy cascading down two stories for hundreds of feet; matched strand for strand with Christmas lights. The lights and ivy were met at ground level by an army of orchids and tropical vegetation. I tried to take pictures, but my camera was dead… must have turned on during the flight. So here I sit thinking “Ahh, finally done traveling, now to bunk up and explore tomorrow.” NOT SO! I head to the information desk to get a map and inquire about my position relative to the Hostel I’ll be staying at. The lady looks at me with a bit of a smirk (I’m sure I looked relatively exhausted after twenty plus hours of traveling) and politely informed me that I had 6 hours to kill before the morning train could take me downtown. Sure does take a long time to travel half way around the world. No worries though, I’ll be updating everyone “on the morning after.”

12-19-08

Why am I choking back tears? I have spent the last five months gleeful about my opportunity to study abroad. Now, at the airport, as I embrace my closest loved ones I am overcome with emotion. Goodbye Charlie, my ever loyal companion. Goodbye Mom, goodbye Dad, Justin, Keith. Goodbye Chantelle, my lover, my friend. Goodbye friends. Goodbye to the familiar and hello to whatever may come. I hesitate while leaving because I know I will miss what will soon be out of reach, but leaving is what I want. This is not a goodbye! This is I’ll see you later, but it’s going to be a couple minutes. No matter; onward I trek towards an uneventful three hour wait and around 20 hours on airplanes going this way and that. As I board my flight, bound for Singapore through Japan, I sit and reminisce. I think about exactly where I’m at; near the back seat of an airplane, bound by gravity on a planet in the middle of nothing, but my center for everything. Twenty feet to my right, the sounds of an engine serves to remind me of the cat and mouse game about to begin between the coming night and the approaching day. While the plane begins to lift I take a lasting look behind me at the Seattle skyline. The Columbia tower stubbornly fades from view and once again acts as the pronounced lookout for the coming night. Behind me I leave more than a view. I leave a December setting with my family, friends and loved ones. I leave Christmas morning exchanging gifts around the tree. I leave a dinner setting and the chance to exchange pleasantries with those most important to me. This year, however, I will get a different view for the season. After 23 years of practice, I will miss the habitual routines that have become so familiar. And during those familiar routines what will everyone do? What will everyone get this year? Will they enjoy my gifts? Hell, what’s for dinner? I must admit that I already feel isolated, but I do not feel lonely. I am eager to embrace and make the most of the coming opportunities. One of which will be my next entry. I will keep you all up to date…