SITTING ON MY BUTT ALL DAY

There are quite a few things I pictured doing on my husband’s birthday and sitting on my butt all day was certainly not one of them. Unfortunately, some germs had a different idea.

Instead of taking Paul out on a little adventure, enjoying a nice dinner out and seeing a new part of the island, I was put on husband-enforced couch arrest.

I tried several times to convince Paul that I would drug myself up so that we could go out, but he would not have it. I was ordered to stay on the couch, where I have been for three days now, while he cooked dinner, washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen…for the third day in a row.

I cannot express how grateful I am to have a husband who would give up a day of celebrating his life to stay at home and take care of me. I might feel like a bum but I know that I am one lucky girl. 

SEEING WHAT ELSE SINGAPORE HAS TO OFFER

Paul worked today. It was the first time in a long time that he was gone all day and for the first time in that same long time, I this morning realized that I suddenly had no idea what to do without him here. If this were any other day of the week, I likely would have lounged around the house. But Friday is cleaning day and I hate being around the house watching someone else clean it.

Every other Friday, I meet the AWA ladies for coffee and repetitive chit chat but this was not coffee week. No touristy destinations came to mind so I decided to do what expat wives do when they are not having coffee – go shopping.

I had heard about a store called ToTT a bit west of here. ToTT, which stands for Tools of The Trade, is a store centered on the kitchen. They have almost everything for the kitchen, dining room, bar area, outdoor kitchens and any other area where you would cook or serve food. I had a great time and I ended up with quite a few new toys.

After a little rest this afternoon, I headed to Clarke Quay to engage in another one of Southeast Asia’s legendary arts – uber-intense martial arts training. That’s right, I, the exceptionally smiley, perky, former cheerleader who has never hit anyone other than her brother, has never even touched a weapon and listens to NPR every day of her life, am learning to kick some butt so that someone else doesn’t kick mine.

I not only got a workout, I learned how to defend myself if someone decides to come after me with a pole. I know the “fight or flight” distance and whether to fight or get the heck out. I know that for every one hit I make, someone else can make 10 so I need to just keep hitting and kicking until the other person is immobilized. Message to my little brother who is the chief jungle warfare instructor for the U.S. Marine Corps: Watch out. By the time we see each other for Christmas, I just may be able to take you. OK, at least I won't be immobilized on the ground, helpless like I usually am.

Completely pumped up from my class, I decided to take my time getting home. I knew I was close to Chinatown, so I took a short train ride in search of one of my favorite American treats – hot dogs. That’s right, hot dogs. Somewhere in the heart of Chinatown, just behind a giant temple and next to one of the biggest hawker centers I have seen, is a little truck where an old Austrian man sells smoked sausages and pretzels. Funny enough, it’s just a couple kiosks down from Serendipity – or Serenedipity, as it says on the sign – Patisserie.

Knowing full well that this is one of the many exciting weekends in Singapore, I made one more stop before heading home. I have never seen a car race of any kind so I thought I would check out the happenings associated with Race Weekend.

The sound of the Formula 1 cars racing around the Singaporean streets was deafening. I could hear the cars from Clarke Quay inside the martial arts studio. I could hear the cars in the subway. When I walked outside, I thought my ear drums would explode as the sound of the engines revving reverberated off of buildings and windows and echoed through tunnels and outdoor walkways.

I have to say, watching these odd-shaped cars take over the streets of Singapore at such insane speeds was thrilling. I definitely enjoyed myself today and am SO glad I didn’t end up sitting on my butt all day!

EXPLORING THIS GREAT ISLAND

Singapore, like Hawaii, is a state made up of a number of islands – 63 to be exact. Though we may not be able to find all of them on a map, we are starting to explore those we are able to see first hand.

Yesterday Paul and I took a boat to four of the eight islands south of the main island, known as the Southern Islands – Pulau Sakijang Bendera, Pulau Sakijang Pelepah, Pulau Seringat and Pulau Tembakul.

Pulau Sakijang Bendera, more commonly referred to as St. John’s Island, is a former cast away island for people with diseases such as leprosy and cholera – turned holding cell for deportees – turned drug rehabilitation center for opium addicts – turned weekend vacation getaway.

We were trapped on the island for three hours until the boat would return to save us, so we decided to wander around. When w purchased our tickets we were warned that there was no food or drinking water on the island. Thankfully, we had packed our backpack with lots of water and some snacks.

We headed out on some cement trails and came across the Tropical Marine Science Institute, where we were met with a sign that said we were trespassing, so we turned around and walked back toward the prison yard.

No, I'm not kidding. There really are prison yards - barbed wire and all.

Where The Sidewalk Ends is one of my favorite childhood books but I had no idea I could come across so many sidewalks that just stopped in one place. We would walk a little ways and then…nothing. The sidewalk just ended in a field or in the grass. Weird.

We found some local homes and island dwellers and, since we had some time to kill, we wandered over to another island, Pulau Sakijang Pelepah (also called Lazarus Island), which was connected by a causeway. We carefully kept our eyes on alert for monkeys, big lizards and snakes but the only animals we came across were birds, geckos, some chickens and stray cats.

Pelepah was more deserted with few roads and few homes. We walked the cement paths and relaxed a little in a pavilion by the water on Pulau Seringat as we listened to the rain sprinkle in the leaves around us. This group of three islands was supposed to be developed into touristy land just like it’s Southern Island partner, Sentosa. However, a few years ago, plans were scrapped and the land is now just out there for anyone to explore.

When the boat returned, we hopped aboard and made our way to Pulau Tembakul, known as Kusu Island. Paul decided this island is where Singaporeans go to see grass.

The name translates to Tortoise Island and I was certainly excited to see these creatures. I was highly disappointed to find out that the giant Galapagos-style tortoises I was expecting were not present. In one small area in the middle of the island, Paul did find the “Tortoise Sanctuary.” It was a cement hole with water in the middle and 40 or so little turtles were taking a nap. The only giant turtles were made of marble.

We walked the circumference of the island in under 30 minutes, which was just the time we had before the last boat left the island for the day. On our way back to the dock, we came across some steps with the words “DATOK KONG” written on a large sign above.

“Want to go?” I asked Paul, ready to race up the stairs.

“That depends,” he replied. “Are barrels about to come down and stop me?” This, for those who may not see the significance, is a reference to an old school video game called Donkey Kong, which sounds a little like Datok Kong.

We started racing up the stairs even though the sign clearly stated this was supposed to be the “down” way. We began jogging up and were a little more than halfway when we realized that the stairs just kept going so we slowed our pace. One hundred fifty-two steep steps later, we made it to the top.

We found a yellow building with decorations and writing all over. I learned this morning that the building is home to three shrines of holy Malay saints. Legend has it that a tortoise turned himself into the island to save two shipwrecked sailors, one Chinese and one Malay. Each paid homage to his religion by building a shrine, one Muslim and one Taoist.

The Da Bo Gong temple is on the lower level of the island and can be seen as the boats enter the dock.

While we may not return to these islands, it was definitely a good experience to see just once. We look forward to seeing what else Singapore has to offer as we continue our life’s journey here in Southeast Asia.

I AM SO THANKFUL

Nine months ago I was sitting in a cubicle in Columbus, Ohio, when I received an instant message from my husband. He was home sick for the third week in January and not flying. He happened to be engaged in one of his two hobbies – no, not watching Frasier – applying for any interesting pilot-related job he came across, whether or not he met the qualifications.

“I applied for a job in Singapore,” he wrote. I immediately turned around my chair and repeated the sentence to two of my colleagues, who already knew of my husband’s plot to get us out of America. We all laughed because my husband does things like this at the drop of a hat. He gets an idea in his head and he goes full force. Then, after a short period of time, he changes his mind and goes off in the opposite direction.

When Paul and I were dating, we spent an entire night driving to every dealership in two counties because he decided he wanted a Jeep Wrangler. It was the worst date ever and I was completely annoyed. I was to learn that I was not nearly as annoyed that night as I would be the next day when he suddenly decided he wanted a Liberty.

I admire my husband for having the guts to take opportunities like this one and own them without giving a lot of thought to the consequences. “What’s the worst that can happen?” he would ask, referring to his numerous applications anywhere between Canada and Southeast Asia. “They don’t want me. Big deal.”

My first reaction was that my husband was crazy. My second reaction was more practical.

“Can we talk about these things before you apply next time? You know…just in case you get the job?”

“Don’t worry. I won’t get it,” he replied.

Once Paul was offered the job, I felt complete peace about the move and I am thankful for that peace. I knew that we would not be offered the position if we were not meant to go. I did not worry about moving to another country; I did not worry about how to move or sell all of our belongings. My only worries were leaving my colleagues and somehow managing to tighten loose ends on all of my work projects. The latter I did not fulfill and I regret that to this day.

When we arrived, I was thankful to be in a new place. For a few minutes, and a few minutes only, I wondered what we had done. After that, life became about finding my way in a new environment. I am thankful every day that I am here, making new friends, eating new food and exploring this great island.

MY ARMS WOULD GET TIRED

If I could carry all of the food we ate this week, my arms would not just be tired, I believe they would fall off. My first and only set of friends who will ever visit Singapore spent the last week in Asia and we ate more than our combined weight in food.

Katie purchased the ever-so-famous Makansutra, a book all about Singapore’s great eats, along with a couple touristy books. Knowing that Katie and her husband would be visiting, Paul and I decided to leave a lot of the touristy items for their arrival. This was a smart move as we got to experience a few of these things for the first time with our friends.

First on the list was a drink. Not just any drink, though – the Singapore Sling. The drink was invented here about a hundred years ago at the Long Bar in the existing Raffles Hotel.

Beginning Van’s quest to consume as many species as possible, we decided to venture to the Newton Food Centre, a popular hawker centre in the heart of the island. We sampled two kinds of chicken rice, Hainanese and Cantonese fried rice, as well as two kinds of seafood. We ate tiger prawns that were grilled so crispy even the skin was edible. We also tasted grilled sting ray, one of my favorite animals to visit in the aquarium. We all agreed that it was gamey and very stringy but it was very good.

On Sunday we attended brunch at the St. Regis and covered our table four times over in dim sum plates – 34 in all – after two rounds of ordering and at least six rounds of placing plates down and clearing plates away. It was fantastic. BBQ pork bao was my favorite (I ate half of our two orders). We also sampled shu mai, shark fin soup, congee, pork belly, duck, jellyfish…and a lot more.

No one can visit Singapore without tasting the famous seafood offered by our home at the East Coast Park. We sampled geoduck (pronounced gooey duck), abalone, black pepper crab, chili crab and Sri Lankan crab steamed in white wine and chicken broth.

No meal is complete without dessert, so why not start the day with some? We found a dessert place on Bukit Timah that boasted local and typical ice cream flavors. That had freshly baked pie, brownied, waffles and even mini baked Alaska. Again, great. This followed my single Pop Tart breakfast yesterday:

Nut brownie with Kahlua Latte and Reverse O (chocolate Oreo) ice creams. Mmmmm.

Katie and I ventured out on our own this morning to try something called roti prata, an Indian flaky pastry. We ordered two, one plain and one with chocolate, along with a strawberry lassi, a traditional Indian beverage. Yes, one more time – fantastic.

Today is the first day that I truly felt like a local, which is crazy because I acted like such a tourist. I ate so many different things and found so many great things to do but I can’t take credit for half of those things. It was certainly a great week and I am so thankful to have friends like Katie and Van to make my week that much better.

UM-BR-ELLA

My boss once asked me if I live to work or work to live. He enthusiastically told me that he worked now so that he and his family could live the good life later. In my mind, I lived to work. And I did. I loved my job and, to me at age 27ish, worked defined who I was.

I was brought up with the mandate to graduate high school, go to college, establish myself in the career world and then think about dating. In my environment, work was important and what a person did often defined who that person was.

So yes, I said I lived to work. Now that I have been here in Singapore for five months, I realize that I still live to work. The kicker here is how one defines “work.” To me, working is now running to keep myself active, exploring this great country to get myself out of the house, socializing with my friends, cooking and cleaning the house. It all makes me happy – most of the time – so I enjoy my work.

Tomorrow morning I will begin training to assist mentally and physically handicapped people learning to ride horses. That will be work and I will enjoy it.

I am hosting friends from the U.S. this week. One is on a mission to relax and be touristy; the other is on a mission to eat as many animal species as possible within 6.5 days. Accommodating those requests, setting up the house and managing everyone’s schedules is work, but I enjoy it.

Those who choose to work to live must have a great balance in their life to really make it work. They must have great, fulfilling jobs that do not take away from family time or from personal enjoyment.

Those who work so hard in the present while keeping in mind that far-off future are missing out on a lot right now. What is the value in saving your entire life for something you either may not realize or that will likely not work out the way you intended? Isn’t balancing the now with the future important?

In my opinion, saving away for a rainy day is one thing – constantly carrying an umbrella for decades is another. I think my arms would get tired.

MY UNEMPLOYED EXPAT LIFESTYLE

I am quite surprised at how being unemployed has changed what I do and how I feel on a daily basis. The lack of schedule means that I have no reason to wake up early and, on days when I have no plans, I sometimes dwell on how I have no reason to get out of bed at all.

I like to lie in bed for a while before moving, and sometimes when I have nothing getting me out of bed except that nagging feeling that I have no good reason to still be in bed, I tend to lay a bit longer…at least until the guilt takes over.

I no longer have work stressors, major projects to run, meetings about meetings or issues to resolve. My biggest challenge is trying to plan meals around a constantly broken Easy-Bake oven.

Don’t get me wrong, I find things to do. There are some days that I have so many things to do, it is difficult to fit them all in a single day, especially since I am unable to jump into a car and drive from place to place.

I love exploring new neighborhoods, meeting people for meals and drinks, shopping, socializing. I love having the freedom to do what I want when I want with few time pressures. But it is all suddenly so exhausting!

One thing that really surprises me is my dwindling energy level. It seems a half day of errands or lunch and socializing with friends is enough to drain me completely. I exercise regularly and do feel energized after working out for an hour but that energy does not seem to exude beyond a single day.

This afternoon I attended a baby shower. Nothing against anyone – I hate showers. I only went to my bridal shower because I had to. I tried not to have one but I was told that was not an option.

Today I sat around, ate tea-sized food, watched as the mom-to-be opened her gifts and chatted with the other guests. The commute was easy; I did not have to walk a long way. The only stress I experienced was related to participating in the shower, which turned out to be better than I expected.

By the time the event was thinning out, I realized I was so ready for a nap. I hailed a cab because I did not want to deal with the train. When I got home, I was so exhausted I passed out on the couch.

My feet are the worst though! Yes, wearing sundresses and flip flops every day is great – I love it. But on the chance that I want to wear some cute shoes, whether flats, wedges or heels, my feet cannot handle the pressure. I have more blisters than a dancer en pointe.

I blame the heat and how my feet expand in this weather; my feet just don’t seem to appreciate boundaries. I am making Band-Aids a fashion trend and carrying a spare pair of flip flops in my handbag as essential as an umbrella.