Singapore
Later on Tuesday 12/10/13
Another trek today. After chowing down the bounty from the bazaar that Andy brought in this morning, we took off to give me a tour of the place and then head for Chinatown.
I think Andy could happily sit down to eat something from every single food vendor he comes across. He certainly relishes reading me the entire menu of every eatery we encounter. I really wasn't hungry after our big breakfast, but I couldn't resist trying some fresh coconut ice cream from a vendor who also sold red bean paste, durian, mango, mangosteen, dragonfruit, pineapple, mocha chip, longan, yam (which we think might be the local term for "almond"), chocolate and just about every other flavor you could and couldn't imagine, except vanilla. The vendor reached into her little refrigerator cart and pulled out a brick of ice cream about an inch thick and the size of a 3x5 index card, sandwiched it between two thin crispy wafers, and handed it to me wrapped neatly in a little plastic bag. It cost a dollar (about 80 cents American), and it was the best ice cream sandwich I've had. The ice cream had chunks of tender coconut in it, and the crispy wafers were the perfect foil.
Other than food, the bazaar seems to feature mostly clothing. This is frustrating for me on two counts. First, I'm with Andy, who sincerely tries but is a very typical male in that he neither comprehends nor appreciates the way women shop for clothes. Second, even more frustrating is that the clothes are all made for little dinky Asian women with tiny boobs. Even at my smallest my boobs are not tiny. Nothing here fits me. Shoes are all made for smaller Asian feet, and not available in the larger Western sizes. We found very few in my size 9 here, and it is hopeless finding anything to fit Andy's stumpy size 12 feet. Andy was able to find some tropic-weight shirts that he likes to wear in this humid heat more than the polo shirts he packed. We may check out some of the bigger malls on Orchard Road tomorrow morning, where shops cater more to Westerners and carry sizes that fit us hippopotami and elephants.
I am so reminded of my Santa Clara University days. My roommate Debbie was only four feet eleven and three-quarter inches tall (she always insisted on credit for eery quarter-inch) and my friend Mayu was even shorter. I used to feel like such an elephant walking around with them.
Anyway. We went on to Chinatown, which was a blast of smoky cooking fires and crashing noises. A completely different experience from Little India altogether. The bazaar and Chinatown both were easier for me to navigate with Andy. I wonder if all those little steps and ramps every few feet are unique to the Little India area.
The MRT station exited right into one of Chinatown's major malls, three stories high, with food vendors on the ground floor in tiny stalls all in a row. The upper floors are full of shops ranging from pharmacies and organic tea shops to clothing, fabric and luggage shops.
The top floor was mostly textiles, and what fabrics they were. We passed one Indonesia batik stall with fabrics so gorgeously intense and vibrant that Andy took photos of me standing next to some of them. For the most part I've been able to enjoy the "sights" through my other senses and Andy's eyes without grieving for my lost vision, but fabric art was my first love and I still miss it. Today I couldn't help feeling sad as we walked through aisles and aisles of the most lovely cottons and silks, laces, batiks, even some pashima shawls similar to (but not quite as nice as) the one Donne gave me for this trip (and which saw constant use on the long flight -- thanks again, Donne!).
And the buttons. Rows and rows of racks and racks holding little jars full of buttons of all shapes, sizes and materials. They made me think how Lsurs and Mary would have been so enthralled to see all those buttons to make a button-string for Baby Carrie'a Christmas present in one of Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House books. There was a stall of nothing but ribbons. another with bins of semi-precious stones and chips sold by the kilogram, and yet another with nothing but clocks. All the stalls were about five feet long, and jammed right next to each other.
Oh yes, and the food. Andy got a bowl of laksa, a traditional Malay curry soup, and some kind of egg roll that had chopped toasted peanuts, another crunchy ingredient that was sweet, and I think chopped mushrooms and greens. They were so good I ate four more bites than my stomach wanted to handle. We stopped at other vendors for mugs of iced lemon tea and cold fresh pear juice, and slices of fresh papaya, pineapple and dragonfruit. Dragonfruit has a mild flavor like papaya is milked, and is brilliant magenta-purple color with black dots. Andy said it'd be gorgeous in a fruit salad, and I agree.
It was hot when we started heading back to our hotel, so we stopped again for glasses of cold chrysanthemum tea -- unsweetened for me, sweetened for Andy. I really didn't want any at first, just got some to keep Andy company, and drank mine down fast. But on the subway train my taste buds remembered how much they really did like that cold chrysanthemum tea.
We hit the bazaar again on our way back to the hotel, to pick up an early dinner of Chinese burgers (more like dumplings) filled with pork or veggies, which were so good I wished we'd gotten two each instead of one. For dessert Andy picked up a confection of a spongy cake sandwich with a fresh peanut butter filling, a tapioca cake dusted with coconut, and a kind of egg custard tart with flaky pastry that was my personal fave. Andy's was the peanut butter sandwich thing. And we both liked the tapioca cake, too. None of it was overly sweet and all of it was very satisfying.
Oh yeah, and about a block from the hotel at a little fruit stand we stopped to pick up some rambutans -- a hairy apricot-sized fruit that has an almond-shaped pit, and a flesh that is sort of like a grape. I liked the fruit all right but I am not crazy about the fact that Andy used one of my wheeled glass nippers to break through the hairy rind and peel the things. Grrrrrr.
So that was our day … lots of walking and lots of eating!! As soon as we got back to the hotel -- about 4 -- I headed for the shower. I don't like to imagine how uncomfortable I'd be in the hot season here. When the breeze blows it can be quite comfortable, but when you're walking around for hours, it's still just plain hot and sticky.
Here's Andy with his contribution to today's post:
"The MRT to Chinatown was crowded but people readily gave up their seats when they saw Mary boarding with her cane. Also, those same seats closest to the door are reserved for the handicapped and those with infants. Unlike some of the subways on our east coast like NY and DC, the tracks are not readily visible from the platforms. Instead there are walls with pairs of glass doors which open directly in front of the doors on the train when it arrives. Not only does it keep people from harm’s way but of course it adds much advertising space.
"The Chinatown station opens into a large building filled with vendors hawking many of the same things as we saw in the morning although more varied and extensive. The third floor was primarily composed of fabric suppliers sprinkled with ones that sold ribbons, hundreds of fancy buttons, furniture, drug store and hardware items, luggage, books, along with many Asian foods and drinks.
"One particular stall had the most stunning batik fabrics I had ever seen in my life and I had to take a few photos to post later. The colors and patterns made Laurel Burch designs look almost boring. The mix of magenta with teal, yellow, red and tan was one. There were bright blues and greens with touches of black or white, and several other color combinations that were unique and beautiful. If only Mary could still see to sew like she used to. We probably would have gotten some to take home for her to use.
"There seem to be a lot more Asian smokers than Indian smokers. At least, we noticed a lot more smokers in Chinatown today than everywhere else we've been combined. The cigarette smoke wasn't unbearable but it was noticeable.
"Today is the first day I saw a cat and a dog. I’d be curious if they’re allowed on the MRT but don’t believe I saw any signs forbidding it.
"No rain again today so another good day of not having to dodge it outside. Can’t say the same about the humidity. Today it was 97% despite no rain for two days. Just walking around under overcast skies is enough to make you want to shower the minute you return to the hotel. And get some ice water – except the hotel doesn’t have an ice machine. The craving for ice is pretty much an American thing. So, we’ve been making at least twice-daily trips to the hotel bar for some ice. We've been using the pot they provide for heating water for tea or instant coffee. They must think we’re reallly odd. I don’t know how residents deal with it – and while walking around in long pants, some in long sleeved shirts and jeans – ugh.
"After our cooling showers and a couple hours' rest, Mary sent me back out to the food courts for some more fine Singapore grub. As I patiently waited in a long line at one of the stalls, I was watching how hard the proprietors were working, probably nonstop into the evening after a long day over four or five gas stovetops, as well as taking orders, collecting payment, dishing up food (for meals
they were only charging three or four dollars) and washing dishes in a room that couldn’t have been much bigger than 6x8 in this unforgiving humidity. I imagined how thirsty I would be in their shoes.
"So after putting in my order, I dashed down to the juice vendor, grabbed two cups of fresh iced juices for a couple bucks, and dashed back to wait for my order. It was still a bit of a wait to fill my order. When my order was ready,I set the two drinks on the counter and said, “You look like you’ve got a hard job.” I don’t know how much English she knew, but the smile on her face was enough to know I got my message across."
That little story of Andy's made my dinner taste even better, smile.
Tomorrow night we head for Bangalore. Hotel check-out time is 2 p.m., so we'll have our luggage put in storage until we head out for the airport around 5:30 p.m. Our flight actually leaves Singapore around 8 p.m. and arrives in Bangalore around 10 p.m. It's a four-and-a-half hour nonstop flight, which will be a piece of cake compared to what we went through to get here. I'm planning on packing early so we can get out for a nice breakfast and hit Orchard Road for a couple hours before we go.
Srini and Ms. Muktha from the Mathru School will meet us at Bengaluru Aijrport. I don't think they'll have much trouble finding us -- we will probably be the only palefaces on the flight, and I'll be using my white cane. Plus, our bags are striped with neon day-glo yellow duct tape and readily visible to me so they must be painfully visible to anyone with normal vision.
Later on Tuesday 12/10/13
Another trek today. After chowing down the bounty from the bazaar that Andy brought in this morning, we took off to give me a tour of the place and then head for Chinatown.
I think Andy could happily sit down to eat something from every single food vendor he comes across. He certainly relishes reading me the entire menu of every eatery we encounter. I really wasn't hungry after our big breakfast, but I couldn't resist trying some fresh coconut ice cream from a vendor who also sold red bean paste, durian, mango, mangosteen, dragonfruit, pineapple, mocha chip, longan, yam (which we think might be the local term for "almond"), chocolate and just about every other flavor you could and couldn't imagine, except vanilla. The vendor reached into her little refrigerator cart and pulled out a brick of ice cream about an inch thick and the size of a 3x5 index card, sandwiched it between two thin crispy wafers, and handed it to me wrapped neatly in a little plastic bag. It cost a dollar (about 80 cents American), and it was the best ice cream sandwich I've had. The ice cream had chunks of tender coconut in it, and the crispy wafers were the perfect foil.
Other than food, the bazaar seems to feature mostly clothing. This is frustrating for me on two counts. First, I'm with Andy, who sincerely tries but is a very typical male in that he neither comprehends nor appreciates the way women shop for clothes. Second, even more frustrating is that the clothes are all made for little dinky Asian women with tiny boobs. Even at my smallest my boobs are not tiny. Nothing here fits me. Shoes are all made for smaller Asian feet, and not available in the larger Western sizes. We found very few in my size 9 here, and it is hopeless finding anything to fit Andy's stumpy size 12 feet. Andy was able to find some tropic-weight shirts that he likes to wear in this humid heat more than the polo shirts he packed. We may check out some of the bigger malls on Orchard Road tomorrow morning, where shops cater more to Westerners and carry sizes that fit us hippopotami and elephants.
I am so reminded of my Santa Clara University days. My roommate Debbie was only four feet eleven and three-quarter inches tall (she always insisted on credit for eery quarter-inch) and my friend Mayu was even shorter. I used to feel like such an elephant walking around with them.
Anyway. We went on to Chinatown, which was a blast of smoky cooking fires and crashing noises. A completely different experience from Little India altogether. The bazaar and Chinatown both were easier for me to navigate with Andy. I wonder if all those little steps and ramps every few feet are unique to the Little India area.
The MRT station exited right into one of Chinatown's major malls, three stories high, with food vendors on the ground floor in tiny stalls all in a row. The upper floors are full of shops ranging from pharmacies and organic tea shops to clothing, fabric and luggage shops.
The top floor was mostly textiles, and what fabrics they were. We passed one Indonesia batik stall with fabrics so gorgeously intense and vibrant that Andy took photos of me standing next to some of them. For the most part I've been able to enjoy the "sights" through my other senses and Andy's eyes without grieving for my lost vision, but fabric art was my first love and I still miss it. Today I couldn't help feeling sad as we walked through aisles and aisles of the most lovely cottons and silks, laces, batiks, even some pashima shawls similar to (but not quite as nice as) the one Donne gave me for this trip (and which saw constant use on the long flight -- thanks again, Donne!).
And the buttons. Rows and rows of racks and racks holding little jars full of buttons of all shapes, sizes and materials. They made me think how Lsurs and Mary would have been so enthralled to see all those buttons to make a button-string for Baby Carrie'a Christmas present in one of Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House books. There was a stall of nothing but ribbons. another with bins of semi-precious stones and chips sold by the kilogram, and yet another with nothing but clocks. All the stalls were about five feet long, and jammed right next to each other.
Oh yes, and the food. Andy got a bowl of laksa, a traditional Malay curry soup, and some kind of egg roll that had chopped toasted peanuts, another crunchy ingredient that was sweet, and I think chopped mushrooms and greens. They were so good I ate four more bites than my stomach wanted to handle. We stopped at other vendors for mugs of iced lemon tea and cold fresh pear juice, and slices of fresh papaya, pineapple and dragonfruit. Dragonfruit has a mild flavor like papaya is milked, and is brilliant magenta-purple color with black dots. Andy said it'd be gorgeous in a fruit salad, and I agree.
It was hot when we started heading back to our hotel, so we stopped again for glasses of cold chrysanthemum tea -- unsweetened for me, sweetened for Andy. I really didn't want any at first, just got some to keep Andy company, and drank mine down fast. But on the subway train my taste buds remembered how much they really did like that cold chrysanthemum tea.
We hit the bazaar again on our way back to the hotel, to pick up an early dinner of Chinese burgers (more like dumplings) filled with pork or veggies, which were so good I wished we'd gotten two each instead of one. For dessert Andy picked up a confection of a spongy cake sandwich with a fresh peanut butter filling, a tapioca cake dusted with coconut, and a kind of egg custard tart with flaky pastry that was my personal fave. Andy's was the peanut butter sandwich thing. And we both liked the tapioca cake, too. None of it was overly sweet and all of it was very satisfying.
Oh yeah, and about a block from the hotel at a little fruit stand we stopped to pick up some rambutans -- a hairy apricot-sized fruit that has an almond-shaped pit, and a flesh that is sort of like a grape. I liked the fruit all right but I am not crazy about the fact that Andy used one of my wheeled glass nippers to break through the hairy rind and peel the things. Grrrrrr.
So that was our day … lots of walking and lots of eating!! As soon as we got back to the hotel -- about 4 -- I headed for the shower. I don't like to imagine how uncomfortable I'd be in the hot season here. When the breeze blows it can be quite comfortable, but when you're walking around for hours, it's still just plain hot and sticky.
Here's Andy with his contribution to today's post:
"The MRT to Chinatown was crowded but people readily gave up their seats when they saw Mary boarding with her cane. Also, those same seats closest to the door are reserved for the handicapped and those with infants. Unlike some of the subways on our east coast like NY and DC, the tracks are not readily visible from the platforms. Instead there are walls with pairs of glass doors which open directly in front of the doors on the train when it arrives. Not only does it keep people from harm’s way but of course it adds much advertising space.
"The Chinatown station opens into a large building filled with vendors hawking many of the same things as we saw in the morning although more varied and extensive. The third floor was primarily composed of fabric suppliers sprinkled with ones that sold ribbons, hundreds of fancy buttons, furniture, drug store and hardware items, luggage, books, along with many Asian foods and drinks.
"One particular stall had the most stunning batik fabrics I had ever seen in my life and I had to take a few photos to post later. The colors and patterns made Laurel Burch designs look almost boring. The mix of magenta with teal, yellow, red and tan was one. There were bright blues and greens with touches of black or white, and several other color combinations that were unique and beautiful. If only Mary could still see to sew like she used to. We probably would have gotten some to take home for her to use.
"There seem to be a lot more Asian smokers than Indian smokers. At least, we noticed a lot more smokers in Chinatown today than everywhere else we've been combined. The cigarette smoke wasn't unbearable but it was noticeable.
"Today is the first day I saw a cat and a dog. I’d be curious if they’re allowed on the MRT but don’t believe I saw any signs forbidding it.
"No rain again today so another good day of not having to dodge it outside. Can’t say the same about the humidity. Today it was 97% despite no rain for two days. Just walking around under overcast skies is enough to make you want to shower the minute you return to the hotel. And get some ice water – except the hotel doesn’t have an ice machine. The craving for ice is pretty much an American thing. So, we’ve been making at least twice-daily trips to the hotel bar for some ice. We've been using the pot they provide for heating water for tea or instant coffee. They must think we’re reallly odd. I don’t know how residents deal with it – and while walking around in long pants, some in long sleeved shirts and jeans – ugh.
"After our cooling showers and a couple hours' rest, Mary sent me back out to the food courts for some more fine Singapore grub. As I patiently waited in a long line at one of the stalls, I was watching how hard the proprietors were working, probably nonstop into the evening after a long day over four or five gas stovetops, as well as taking orders, collecting payment, dishing up food (for meals
they were only charging three or four dollars) and washing dishes in a room that couldn’t have been much bigger than 6x8 in this unforgiving humidity. I imagined how thirsty I would be in their shoes.
"So after putting in my order, I dashed down to the juice vendor, grabbed two cups of fresh iced juices for a couple bucks, and dashed back to wait for my order. It was still a bit of a wait to fill my order. When my order was ready,I set the two drinks on the counter and said, “You look like you’ve got a hard job.” I don’t know how much English she knew, but the smile on her face was enough to know I got my message across."
That little story of Andy's made my dinner taste even better, smile.
Tomorrow night we head for Bangalore. Hotel check-out time is 2 p.m., so we'll have our luggage put in storage until we head out for the airport around 5:30 p.m. Our flight actually leaves Singapore around 8 p.m. and arrives in Bangalore around 10 p.m. It's a four-and-a-half hour nonstop flight, which will be a piece of cake compared to what we went through to get here. I'm planning on packing early so we can get out for a nice breakfast and hit Orchard Road for a couple hours before we go.
Srini and Ms. Muktha from the Mathru School will meet us at Bengaluru Aijrport. I don't think they'll have much trouble finding us -- we will probably be the only palefaces on the flight, and I'll be using my white cane. Plus, our bags are striped with neon day-glo yellow duct tape and readily visible to me so they must be painfully visible to anyone with normal vision.
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