On Driving
Car manufacturers could save a lot of money by equipping vehicles shipped to Singapore without indicators. It would appear that turn signals (indicators) are optional items, and should only really be used when you need to cut across 4 lanes to make an exit ramp that will disappear in 25 meters. Ideally you should perform this procedure while talking on your mobile phone. You should also leave said indicator on for the next 10 kilometers, as apparently the other drivers take great delight in you driving around like this.
Lanes (and those silly little, white, dashed lines between them) are obviously just general guidelines. You are meant to use the voracious honking of the lorry you just cut off as a suggestion to drift back into your lane.
Oh and if you think watching teenagers text + talk & drive then try adding an Asian driver with spectacles as thick as coke bottle bottoms into that mix.
On Food
Apparently you can deep fry anything that comes from the ocean, and whack it on a stick. This is the equivalent of a hot dog.
There is a mix of western, pricey Asian food, and local food. Singapore food is a mix of Chinesre, Malay, Thai, and Japanese cuisine. The cheap local eats are served from bizarre hole-in-the-wall cookeries, which are tiny. The food is served on plastic picnic plates, which are chucked at you on plastic tables and chairs that are on the sidewalk.
You can get incredibly cheap eats. $2 - $3 for a meal. What I am ordering is a whole other story. Most of the negotiation involves a sweaty Ching Chong Willywong moving from his wok to ask for my "order". It sounds like this "wha ding dong wow goh?". So I point to a photo of a plate of something (this picture was taken around 1972, from the look of the colour left in it). What gets thrown onto the plastic table (I am sitting on a plastic deck chair in the middle of a sidewalk) bears no resemblance whatsoever to what was photographed in 1972.
On Space and Lines
Despite the fact that at 5 foot 11 inches you can see the entire length and breadth of any shop you go into, the locals have no issues with wedging a hundred of themselves into every aisle, corner or queue. It is like trying to walk through quick sand toward an oasis that you have spotted over ½ and hour ago.
The queue concept hasn't fully taken off here. Perhaps it is because the Lilliputians cannot see past more than two people due to there vertically challenged carriage, but they seem to look about aimlessly and then cut into the line. A good technique is to try an "Excuse me?" or "Are you right there?", ideally in a Johnny Cash bass or John Wayne deep drawl.
On Heat
For those that thought this section might be about hot flushes, you need to buy a DVD. This is actually about humidity, not heat. So I'm told it is "winter" here now. Temperatures range from 32 at peak in the afternoon to a really cool 25 at night. It is dang hot. But that is not the issue. The sticky, cloying humdity is extraordinary.
I can break into a sweat thinking about a multisyllable word. So a giant fat white feller trying to move about at pace in this heat + humidity ain't a pretty sight. And of course, my Protestant work ethic and upbringing requires that I must wear suit and tie at all times in the corporate day. It is a little bit amusing, because this place very serious about H1N1 (pig flu). The masks these people are wearing are just fantastic. There are even people wearing "fashion masks". These have patterns and designs on them (think Hello Kitty and Looney Tunes). So everyplace that I appear in results in the locals whipping on masks and scurrying out of the way. Clearly a bit, fat, sweaty Australian is walking Pandemic that has invaded their island.
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