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 :).