An unfortunate event

Joy of joys, our car arrived today! Our car man (for lack of a better term) drove us down into the car park, and showed us all the features of the car. Although I haven't converted my driving license yet, since I plan to pick Erik up from the airport tomorrow I thought I ought to put some "petrol" in the tank. (Look at me all Singaporean).

I chose an easy route - there's a petrol station or two quite near to our home. I thought, "What could go wrong?" Try getting out of the car park. Due to the placement of support beams in our basement, getting out is like navigating an obstacle course. To add to the element of difficulty, the direction in which car man parked the car was the worst possible way to get out directly.

I backed the car up enough (I thought) to get around the crucial final corner, but it became quickly obvious that I was too close on the right side. I backed up and heard the scrape that makes you cringe. Starting to panic, I realized I had to go forward. Scrape once again. At that moment, complete and total panic set in. I started hyperventilating thinking, "I am going to have to physically move my car. What if someone comes and wants to leave the carpark? I'm blocking them in!" and all sorts of other things while I am frantically trying to get out the locked passenger side. My kids were quiet and compassionate - Ethan threw his arm around me from behind the seat.

Finally I got out and nabbed a couple of workers I had seen drive into the car park. One of them took my keys, climbed into my car and put my car into reverse like he could have done it with his eyes closed, while I was insisting, "I think you're just going to have to pick it up and move it!" After he got it out I said, "Could you please just pull it around the corner for me?" He smiled and obliged.

Our trip to the petrol station went well, although I wasn't far enough over at the first one I encountered to pull in. No problem - there's one every mile or so here. When we got back to the carpark Ethan said, "Mommy, maybe this time you should try not to scrape the car."

So what's the damage? Not much - the black plastic guards on that side all got scraped off, and there's a little paint missing. In certain lights you can see a slight dent but I think it will be covered by the black guards once replaced.

Someday I know we'll laugh about this - I'm kind of laughing already. But mostly I'm just sort of wallowing in the idiot pool right now.

What if . . . ?

A friend of me had a "what if?" kind of question on her blog today, which reminded me of my favorite what if? question, which is this:
What if you could instantly speak, with fluency, five languages other than English? What would you choose? They don't have to be practical in any way.

So here are mine in no specific order (with my reasoning):
1. Chinese - hey, 20% of the world speaks it
2. Norwegian - my homeland, or at least the homeland of 50% of me
3. Spanish - I love speaking Spanish
4. Gaelic - it's so beautiful, and how cool is it?
5. Swahili - again, just sounds really stinkin' cool

I'd love to hear what other people would choose. Partly this is also a lame attempt to see if anyone ever reads my blog, aside from Erik's brother, Andrew, and my parents. :)

I may never want to leave

Some people out there, my parents in particular, may not want to hear that with each passing day, I come to believe that I may never want to leave Singapore. This thought train has taken a long time to pull into the station.

Most of the pleasures here are material, some are aesthetic, some are convenience. Aside from the pervasive Asian culture, our lives here are a dramatic difference to life in China. I've come to think of it as America without a lot of the problems.

But it's been hard for me to enjoy, for a variety of reasons. This past Sunday though, our pastor preached from 1 Timothy 6:17-19, where we are commanded not to put our hope in riches, which are so uncertain, but also to enjoy all that God has provided for our "enjoyment."

I haven't allowed myself to enjoy a lot of little things here (like thinking, "I'd like some of the saran wrap that sticks to the bowl without wrapping around" and voila! there it was at the store. That didn't happen in my life for about 5 years). I feel spoiled, distracted by earthly things, and sorry for those without these luxuries. But does me not enjoying them help those things?

I need to learn to enjoy these things "as though not engrossed in them." I want to fully enjoy all the blessings we have here, but not put my hope or my heart into them. I want to carry them lightly, and with joy.

Nanny 911

I currently have in my posession several TV shows that were taped from the states, random shows someone sent to a friend here. One of them is Nanny 911. I'd heard of this show, so the kids and I watched 5 minutes of it today (I was curious to see what they thought of other children behaving badly).

I think my kids were a little stunned at watching children completely out of control. I was terrified to my very core. Please, someone out there tell me that these are extreme cases and not indicative of American families in general? My word. Talk about a child-centered environment.

On the other hand, we've had quite a pleasant day since then. I'm feeling really good about life. My kids in comparison are stellar! No chaos here, at least not today. And I'm a rock star mom! It's all relative right?

If anyone out there hopes we will return to the States someday, you have to give me promises that I can find children for my children to befriend who are not raised in the manner of the children on this show. Otherwise, we're not leaving the house until they're 18.

Are these my only choices?

After Ethan endured a shot this morning at the doctor, we went for ice cream. Perusing the popsicles, I saw that there were three kinds: Durian, red bean, and sweet corn. What happened to chocolate? Or strawberry? Or that weird blue kind that was supposedly raspberry, even though I've never seen or heard of wild blue raspberries? Freaky.

We bought chocolate and vanilla cones that have nuts and chocolate on top. They make me think of my grandpa John - chocolate and peanuts together always does. Maybe the sweet corn would have reminded me of family picnics, but I wasn't willing to risk it.

What were they thinking?!

As I am keenly aware of all moving vehicles these days in anticipation of our car (I swear, it feels like we adopted a kid and are waiting for him to arrive), I notice not only the car we did buy, but all the ones we didn't.

One in particular, I'll have to take a picture and post it, is the ugliest car I think I've ever seen. It's like a little armored truck but in a wide variety of obnoxious colors. The back end, which has no windows, is shaped like a box. Yet, this car is quite popular. I had been justifying our choice of the Hyundai Matrix with the phrase, "Hey, 100,000 Singaporeans can't be wrong!" because there are so many out there. My thought with this other car is, "Maybe 100,000 Singaporeans are insane," because it seems there are an equal number of these.

Is there a car like this in the states right now that defies logic? I was never a big fan of the PT Crusier when it came out a few years ago in the states. It looked like something out of Dick Tracy, the cartoon version. There's no accounting for some peoples' taste.

"Use it, don't lose it!"

I am flaming jealous of the people here who can switch back and forth from English to Chinese without batting an eye, even within in a sentence. What is more baffling is how they know who to speak Chinese to and who not. Now me, blazing white girl, it's obvious, although I can be deceptive and whip out some hua yu when I need it (hua yu being what Singaporeans call Chinese). But take this morning at the clinic as an example. Most of the people walking in were Asian looking, and the nurses tended to speak Chinese, except with a few. It usually depended on who began the conversation and in what language. But I've found I can't assume that someone who looks Chinese can speak it. Somehow, they know.

Despite my limited ability to converse in Chinese, I don't tend to use it here. The reason is this: when I do, this conversation always ensues:
"Wow, you can speak Chinese!"
"Well, a little. I lived in China for five years."
"You lived in China for five years and you can only speak a little?! You should be fluent!"

So while in China throwing out a few phrases made me look like a linguist, here I come as lazy idiot. If my secret is revealed (as it was once in a taxi when I laughed at the Chinese commentary on the radio) I get berated for not using it. I hate to point out that it's not my first language, and barely my second.

I think part of this mentality comes from a message I read on a bus a few days ago. It said, "Use it, don't lose it!" Now, that's pretty vague. You could be referring to a number of things: the ability to ride a bike, your memory, money . . .
But the acompanying Chinese message is clear, "If you can speak Chinese, use it, don't lose it!" It seems that the ability and or desire to speak Chinese here must be dwindling. Maybe that's why the taxi driver was adamant that I use mine. "If we can't get our people to do it, let's bring in the foreigners!" Believe me, if I was fluent, I'd use it.

The Debate Resolved

It's funny how one minute you're swearing up and down that you will never own a car in Singapore, that it's unnecessary when the public transportation system is so wonderful and cars cost the same as your child's future college education, and a few months later you find that you are now the owner of a brand new Hyundai Matrix. Let me explain how that happened.

A few weeks ago, I mentioned that the COE (certificate of entitlement) was at an all time low. So we poked around. Poking led to investigating, which led to serious thought, and some wise words of wisdom from Erik's Singaporean boss who knows the car market here (I believe his words were, "If you're ever going to buy a car, do it now!" or something to that effect. He can be a pretty persuasive fellow).

But the straw that broke the camel's back, or at least our bank account, was the day I couldn't find Ethan's ez-link card, so we took a taxi to Plaza Singapura. When we got there, a huge sale was happening so the taxi queue was 30 people long. We took the MRT back, but the machines to buy a one time ticket wouldn't take my money, so I just snuck Ethan through (he's right on the edge of height so they don't notice. And that's all the justification I feel I need to give). When we started up the escalator on the other end, we heard the rain. This was the kind of rain where you walk out two steps and back in and you are soaked to the skin. We waited there for 20 minutes until we could walk the 1/2 mile home. We walked by the Hyundai dealership and I swear if that Matrix outside had been the right color, I would have bought it right then.

So we got hooked up with a great car dealer who is a believer and gave us the best deal he could. We went through the "bid for the COE" process which I won't begin to explain. We changed a lot of money into Sing dollars, and did a whole lot of hoopla, and now we have to wait a week to get the car. It is starting to feel like the longest week of my life. Singapore, the hardest place in the world to obtain a car.

In the meantime, a strange thing has happened to me. The public transportation system I enjoyed before has become the bane of my existence. We went to the park on Friday, and when I saw that an entire school had taken over the playground I thought, "If I had my car, I would drive somewhere else!" but having spent S$7.50 to get there, I felt we had to stay to make it worthwhile. It's things like that. I have discovered a whole new realm of discontent.

The Worst Sound in a Mother's World

They say moms know the cries of their children. In a crowd of people, when one child starts crying, there's not usually a lot of debate about whose child it is because his or her mom just knows.

And of those cries, there is one that strikes fear into a mother's heart. It is the cry of pain. It is the, "Something is terribly wrong, prepare to see blood or protruding body parts" cry. And the most terrifying moment is between when you hear the cry and see the damage because you don't know what you'll find.

I heard that cry yesterday. I heard it approaching our door, and I heard it in full volume once Erik brought in a screaming Ethan. A big part of me didn't want to go see what happened, as though not looking would make it not real.

This hasn't happened often in Ethan's life, for which I am immensely grateful to God. The last time was when he tripped on the stairs and knocked out his front tooth. As a mom, when your child has an accident like that, there has to be a conscious choice to put aside your own instinctive desire to panic in order to calm your child. When I saw the blood coming out of Ethan's mouth this time I thought two things. First, "don't panic!" and second, "There goes another tooth."

What happened is this: Ethan had the end of a beach towel in his mouth, and a friend was pulling the other end (are you cringing yet?). You know how you break the wishbone at Thanksgiving? Something's gotta give. It was Ethan's tooth. Fortunately, it didn't completely pull out of his mouth, but it's quite loose. He spent an hour or so putting gauze on it. We tried to get him a shake from McD's but the one close by only had McFlurry's.

He seems not much worse for wear, and I am realizing that what mothers fear most can be endured (again, thank God it was nothing worse!). I did start teaching him how to sing, "All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth" just in case.

Megan's birthday party out in the courtyard

Megan and her friend Faith on Megan's birthday

Enjoying Megan's birthday at the zoo

We're not in Kansas anymore

Just when I think I'm living in what could be the States, something jumps out and slaps me with its Asian-ness. Yesterday the kids and I were eating at the KFC in the amazing zoo (see what I mean - that's America right there!) and there were signs everywhere for "Curry Crunch," I guess trying to appeal to the Indian contingency. I'm a big curry fan, so I was tempted, but I went for the Oriental Chicken Salad instead.
Another example - we were eating a pretzel last week from one of those soft pretzel stores (it's a chain from the states but I forget what it's called) and they had seaweed flavor. Has anyone in the U.S. ever thought, "Man, I wish Pretzel Mania carried seaweed flavor!"? My guess is no.

But to add to my list of "reasons I love Singapore" let me say, "Red seedless grapes." We could sometimes get really big grapes in China, but they always had monster seeds. They were also the cause of my losing a game (what's that one with the cards that drop and you have to act out what's on the cards?) with my Chinese friends. The word was "grape" and the girl made it look like a banana - she peeled it and took a bite and spit out the seed. I was stumped. Too much effort to eat those.

But I digress. We bought red seedless grapes today at our market for the bargain price of $6 Sing/kg. That sounds like a lot to me, but when you break it down to pounds and U.S. dollars, it's about $1.30 a pound. It's the little things . . .

Jurong Bird Park Adventure

Friday the kids and I hooked up with some of our new friends here to hit the Jurong Bird Park. This is located across the parking lot from the infamous Reptile Park I wrote about earlier. We've heard a lot about it so we had high expectations.

First of all, it's a well known fact that the higher the temperature, the lower your enjoyment of any outdoor attraction will be. I think it was 90 degrees and 80% humidity yesterday. Ok, maybe not that bad, but kids make it feel worse. We started in the penguin house and we maybe should have stayed there, or kept going back to it, because it was hard to enjoy the other birds in the sun.

We watched part of the bird show, then opted for the monorail. We thought that would give us a great view of all the birds, but it just gave us a view of the tops of their cages. Still, it's not hard to ride in an air-conditioned cab with new friends looking down on beautiful tropical vegetation!

We stopped at a gorgeous waterfall which I would post a picture of if I could figure out why my windows explorer won't let me turn my pictures anymore. Later we stopped and stayed awhile at the water park. We could have spent hours there I think, with the big playground next to it. That was worth the whole trip for all of us!

Waiting for our friends to pick us up.

We went to look at birds, but the boys found bugs!

This was a great way to cool off on a blistering day!

Jurong Bird Park

Who's your market?

A marked difference between Singapore and the States is what we choose to name our cars. In the U.S., cars are named Expedition, Land Rover, Explorer - anything to make you feel like you are on some grand adventure, instead of what you are really doing, which is driving to the library to drop off some books. They should call them what they are - the Toyota Grocery Getter or the Mazda Carpool.

Here, we're trying to figure out who their market is when cars are named Jazz, Stream, Sunny, Wish, and my personal favorite, Picnic. These cars would never sell in America. They just don't sound tough enough for the man who wishes he were climbing mountains but is instead just driving a mile to work.

So today we went car shopping. Well, you could maybe just call it car looking because we're in the curious stage still. We're interested in the Hyundai Matrix (which is about the fiercest name you get here) but like I said, we're just looking right now. With names like the Nissan Prairie, (this is a tropical island - where's the prairie?) I wonder if everyone everywhere is trying to live out their dreams vicariously through a car.

The Great Debate

To buy a car, or not to buy a car? That is the question. My initial reaction was, "Absolutely not! Doesn't it cost like $100,000?" Turns out it's not that astronomical, but it's a fair chunk of change. There are some definite advantages. Aside from the basic convenience of having your own ride, it would free us to explore parts of Singapore without having a set destination. This appeals more to Erik, Mr. Adventure, rather than Gina, Ms. Known to Not Leave Her House for Days at a Time.
Ethan is another reason. Not just that he daily asks if we can have a car, but many of his favorite spots in Singapore are far away. They require either hour long combination subway/bus rides, or expensive taxi fares. Plus, many of them are located where picking up a taxi to leave is nigh on impossible. Since we will probably be homeschooling him for kindergarten, I'd like to be able to do lots of field trips to far off places.
Speaking of education, the school we hope he can attend for 1st grade would require a more than one hour bus ride both ways. Granted, driving him every day takes up my time, but that's a few hours I'd gain of time with my boy which is priceless.
As we get more involved in our church, and visit many people who live in houses where taxis are only accessible by calling one (adding to the fare), we long for the freedom to come and go on our own.

But I don't have to remind you car owners of the cost and care of a car. There's something nice about using someone else's all the time. Or driving right up to the door of a place without having to find and pay for parking. And it's not like the public transport system here is lacking. Choices, choices, choices. Feel free to give me your opinion. Maybe we should take a poll.

Future aspirations

I asked Ethan yesterday what he wants to do when he grows up. He said he wants to make money, "as much money as I can." The whole point of making lots of money is so that he can buy the Thomas the Tank Engine pieces that he lacks, which is I'm sure a part of everyone's Great American Dream, maybe further down the list after big house and oversized SUV.

I said, "But what do you want to DO to make money?" That question stumped him. I gave him some examples like doctor, lawyer, builder . . .
"Mommy, I want to do two things. I want to be a builder and a money maker."
"That's great, but honey, I don't think there's a job that's just 'money maker.' The way it works is, you do a job, and then your boss gives you a check for the money you made. Then you put the money in the bank and take it out when you need it." (or that's how it would go in a world where people were financially wise).
Unconvinced, he talked more about how he would go the money machine whenever he needed money, revealing that he thinks like many people - ATMs are machines that give money to the needy. No one knows where the money comes from, but they hope it keeps coming.

When it rains . . .

On my way to Mustafa this morning by myself, I thought, "What a pleasant, cool day." It started to drip a bit by the time I got there, but when I came out, it had turned from pleasant and cool to an absolute downpour.

I always think it's interesting to observe people in rain. There are the "I got caught without my umbrella and I'm not only soaked but angry" people, and then there are the "let's make a break for it and hope for the best" equally wet people who run into shelter. Others, like myself, wait in vain for it to let up. It didn't - it only got worse. It's frustrating when my house is within eyesight, if you knock a few buildings down, to take a taxi home from Mustafa. I thought, as I stood with others comtemplating their own strategy for tackling the rain, that I could walk. I had brought my trusty metal shopping cart that bangs my right heel wherever I go, and I had an umbrella. Plus, finding a taxi during a rainstorm is about as easy as finding jeans that fit - it'll take you hours, maybe days.

But it seems many people chose today to come to Mustafa, so I caught a cab within minutes. I was glad I did, because in the time it took me to throw my stuff in the back and get in, my shorts were soaked and I knew that if I had walked, I might just as well have jumped into the pool. The driver pointed out that it was raining so hard, most of the other taxis had pulled over and were waiting it out. We rounded one corner and drove through a six inch deep, 10 yard long puddle. I have never been so grateful to have a carpark under our complex! When I got home, I discovered that Erik and the kids didn't fare as well as I did coming back from the market - both kids were stripped of their wet clothes and were huddled under a blanket watching Discovery channel: Snakes.

I tell this story just to give you a piece of life in Singapore, where when it rains, it really pours.

ez-link wonder

Someone out there is a genius, and it isn't me. Someone, I'm guessing a Singaporean since they strike me as intelligent and creative as a whole, created this nifty little card called the ez-link card. I've written about it before - it's the card that you can use in buses and the MRT to pay your fare. What amazes me about it is that the scanners can read it through almost anything. I hold my wallet up to the scanner and it reads it. I've held my entire gigantic Kate Spade bag, in which my wallet is swallowed, and it reads it. How does it do that without, say, charging my credit card at the same time? Or erasing my library card? I don't know. Probably some of you who know basic laws of digital cards could tell me, but don't. I like the mystery.

Watch for closed doors

When I went to the office today, I was surprised to find one of the glass doors propped open. I was glad, because I don't know the code to get in. I left a bit later to use the bathroom which is in the lift lobby, and came back in without incident.

Later still, I had to use the bathroom again (curse that Diet Coke - I might as well pour it straight in the toilet!). As I was walking toward the door, I was distracted by some workers in the meeting room and proceeded to walk with full force into the glass door that someone had closed. I'm talking about a full commitment, no hesitation walk. Slightly stunned and entirely embarassed, I realized that not only had I just done what only birds do, but I didn't know how to get out the locked door.

So to add insult to literal injury, I found the nearest office worker, admitted my accident (which he had heard) and asked for his help. He graciously showed me how to get out and back in again, but not without both of us having a good laugh.

An afternoon in a Minnesota winter

By my title, you may think I am nostalgic for a bit of northern weather. Actually, I am here to tell you that I just experienced it.

Those of you from the frozen tundra can picture this: you're sitting in a room (usually your basement) where your heat just isn't cutting it. Despite being fully clothed, a chill hovers around you. The wind whistles outside and shakes the windows, reminding you that you are only a few inches away from bitter cold.

That's what it felt like this afternoon during my three hours in Erik's office, I kid you not. I had to keep reminding myself that I really do live on a tropical island. When I left, it took 15 minutes before I felt warm enough to take off my jean jacket. I plan to take up the cause of People Against the Excessive Usage of Air Conditioning in Tropical Climates (PAEUACTC). I'm off to picket.

Wo bu ming bai!

That's "I don't understand!" for you non-Mandarin speakers (listen to me - as if I'm really one of them!). I have mentioned in the past that there are obvious direct translations in Singaporean English from Chinese such as "no have" (mei you) or "can" (keyi). That's why I'm a little baffled by something I've noticed recently.

In Chinese, they don't pluralize anything. The number of anything is indicated simply through context. Why is it then that in Singaporean English, they pluralize things that we don't? For example, instead of math they say, "maths." Instead of staff they say, "staffs." I have no explanation.

Finally got new batteries for the camera! Here's a not so focused shot of the kids in a box

Reptile Paradise

There were places we probably went as kids that to our parents were seen for what they were - run down and under-budgeted - but to us were pure fun. I suspect Circus World may fit into that category for us. I remember it with joy but I think it has since closed down.

Today, we found such a place in Singapore. It's called the Jurong Reptile Park. We knew we were headed for something less than brilliant when the bus dropped us off between the Reptile Park and the Bird Park, and everyone else went to the birds. The parking lot was deserted, but the door was open so we braved it.

The Reptile Park has the feeling of a Chinese zoo - poor construction, shoddy materials, tiny exhibits. But inside all of that they have a great collection of giant crocodiles and alligators, igunas, giant turtles, hissing snakes, and some large fish (which now makes me wonder why they were in the reptile park). We followed a man through the park as he hand fed all the animals. Ethan enjoyed feeding the iguanas and petting them. Megan even got her hands in there (our former "I'm afraid of all large animals, real or fake" girl).

In the end, they pulled out a small green snake, a young iguana, and a baby crocodile (with its mouth taped shut) and it was picture time. Thanks to the person who invented digital cameras, even though our batteries were dead, we used our card in a German man's camera to take a picture of Erik holding all three animals.

Although the kids were anxious to get the Science Center (also in the Jurong area) they had a blast at the park and touched enough reptiles to make me want to give them full baths afterwards. I'm sure they'll remember it only for the fun it was.

I've lost all track of time

When we first moved to Singapore, I felt stuck in eternal summer. It was like Groundhog Day, where we lived the same day over and over again. 85 degrees on Halloween? And again on Christmas?

I'm used to weather that can change 30 degrees in a matter of a week, even a day (honestly - April 1996 I believe it was 70 degrees one day and 40 the next, or the other way around). I marked my life before by how the wind smelled and the ground felt, what the trees looked like and what flowers bloomed. Last week I imagined that my hometown would probably now have that damp brown look, with a slight warmth in the breeze. Instead I heard they had 20 inches of snow. You can always count on the unpredictability of Minnesota weather.

Now, I notice smaller increments of temperature and humidity, and can predict how it will feel outside based on recent rainfall. I don't measure time by the weather anymore but rely on my watch to tell me the day. It doesn't feel strange, which in itself is strange because I couldn't imagine growing accustomed to this.

Land without pennies

A long time ago I started a list of the things I love about Singapore. Then, I don't know, I got busy or something and forgot that I had a blog.

So I'm picking up pen (or perhaps I should say keyboard) to comment on a few more things I enjoy about Singapore. I noticed one of them again today at Mustafa (ah, Mustafa!). They don't use pennies here. They exist, but are never used. For the mathematically challenged like me, this is a Godsend. I can add so much more easily this way! America, take note.

And another thing I wish they had in the states - the big yellow X. There's probably a technical term for this, but for lack of it, I'll describe - wherever there's a need for traffic to enter where there's no intersection or stoplight (say, coming out of a mall) there's a big yellow X painted on the ground. If you're stopped on the road, you can't stop on the X, so people are always able to pull onto the road. I love this X! It's amazing what putting some paint on the ground will do. It's like how ants won't cross chalk lines. (that really works - we tried it with the ants who has formed an assembly line from Ethan's room to the kitchen). Sometimes high control can be a good thing.

The World According to Ethan

A conversation from the taxi today:
"Mommy, I didn't make Faith and Naomi silly."

"You didn't? Well, then, who did?"

"Their daddy did. And I didn't make Bayley and Bella silly either."

"Who did?"

"Their daddy."

"Oh. So who made you silly?"

"Jackson."

"And who made Jackson silly?"

"His daddy."

"So didn't your daddy make you silly?"

"No, Dan (Jackson's dad) made my daddy silly."

So there you have it.
On a different note, in the interest of maintaining humility, I would like to announce that yesterday, I broiled some brownies. "How?" you might ask. Well, not just anyone can broil brownies. On Sunday I made some smart little pizzas with bread, spaghetti sauce, and cheese. I forgot to switch my toaster oven back to the oven setting so voila! I had brownies that were black on top but that perfect "not quite done" consistency on the bottom. I salvaged what I could. I mean, come on, they're brownies!

Sentosa again

One of the glories of Singapore is a little place I've mentioned before called Sentosa. It's an island off the cost of Singapore, accessible by bus, cable car, or boat. We've done the first two routes now. Yesterday we traveled by bus again across the bridge to island paradise.

We met some friends there to play volleyball, along with the most perfect bodied people in all of Singapore. Our group of normal sized, fully clothed people stood out a little. When Mr. foreign underwear clad man wanted to round out one team, we all felt the awkwardness.

Our kids were content to watch for awhile. I was content to watch forever. I have never been good at volleyball, and my short stint as a soccer player has left me with a strong reflex to kick any ball that comes into my periphery. Once the interest wore off, I suited up the kids for some ocean time.

Ethan tried to convince Megan that following him off the drop off would be a fun and "not scary" time but she was wise to not participate. The kids were able to drag Erik in after a few games of ball, and he delighted in taking them out where there was no hope of them touching bottom. Ethan was brave enough to swim back on his own though! In the process, however, some unidentified sea object left a nasty, painful streak all the way down his leg. He came out screaming. All I could think was, "On a episode of Friends, Monica got stung by a jellyfish and the guys peed on her leg."
"Erik, you need to pee on him!" I cried.
"I can't. I just peed in the ocean," he replied (he's going to kill me for writing that, but there it is).

In hindsight, I don't think it was a jellyfish. I base this on my extensive jellyfish sting knowledge, which includes that one Friends episode, and the 10 minutes I spent on the internet looking at jellyfish sting pictures. Today the sting is gone and so is the memory, because Ethan whispered in my ear this morning, "Mommy, when we're done with breakfast, can we go out to Sentosa?"

Computers

Computers, like animals, can sense fear. They know when the person befor them is unsure, and therefore, control is easy to wrest away.

I am a fearful person when it comes to computers. When I sit at the controls, the inner workings of the computer buck and jerk away from me so that I am left riding without reins. What seemed simple in my husband's instructions become an insurmoutable problem because I have lost control. I can almost hear the computer snickering.

Take now, for example. I am writing this post in notebook form because I cannot get the internet to connect. It says there is a good connection, but nothing will load. This happened because the one person in the house who is not afraid of the computer - my husband - left this morning. The computer is taking advantage of this fact and I doubt I will do anything internet related until he returns on Thursday. But when he does return, you can be sure that everything will be in working order again. It's like, "Ah, the master is gone. I will now work my mischief!"

You see, my husband is like the computer whisperer. The moment I call him in, the computer perks up. sensing the presence of power, it will crawl and bow in front of him and do his bidding with a humble whine. What was insurmountable disappears with a few clicks - often the same thing I was just doing will now work like magic.

Until then, I am blocked from cyberspace, at the mercy of my runaway computer.

Megan on the slide

Here's our five year old!

Bustin' a gut, or something like that

This post has nothing to do with living in Singapore per se, other than the fact that I was checking my mail at the time. I love checking mail. I love that I have a mailbox that contains real mail - fun mail, from the U.S., that I can read without having to get out my dictionary to look up the words I don't know.

But I digress. I was checking my mail, which requires squatting, and when I did, Ethan and I both heard a gigantic ripping sound. Actually, I heard and felt a gigantic ripping sound. Yeah, it was my pants. My great bargain at Export Fashion pants. The ones I needed to wear to a meeting later this week (thanks to my mom for teaching me how to sew!).

Naturally, Ethan was quite curious to see what had happened. And then we both had a big old laugh about it. I just spoke at a MOPS meeting this morning, so if I had checked my mail before the meeting, I might not have laughed quite so hard.

Ethan wanted to know also, "Mommy, why do pants rip?" I told him it was because they weren't sewn very well. And maybe, possibly, because you're too big for them. Most certainly not the case for me. :)

Happy New Year!

You might think I'm a little late to proclaim that, but today is the Chinese New Year according to the lunar calendar. Living in a country where many people are ethnically Chinese, we get to observe their celebration. We've chosen, though, to take an observe from a distance stance, since an island full of 4,000,000 people with the day off makes for a big crowd no matter where you go.

Case in point: we tragically ran out of skim milk today. I thought, "Hey, Indian people don't celebrate New Year so Mustafa will still be open." I suspected that there might be a crowd, but when I couldn't find a cart, and the lines were no less than about 10 people long (usually there aren't lines at all) I thought maybe I had planned poorly.

Anyway, this is what we know about how to celebrate Chinese New Year (For those of you who would like to participate). You should wear red, because red is the color of happiness. And probably prosperity. It's lucky ok?
Second, you should get together with your friends and family. Then you should make jiaozi. Or lao yusheng. Jiaozi we know as dumplings. Lao yusheng Erik compares to that napa cabbage salad, if you're familiar with that. You mix it together with friends. The higher you throw it, the more prosperity you'll have.
I think then you're supposed to watch the New Year's celebration on tv. Finally, you should give all small children hong bao - red bags full of money. I don't know how much though. Enjoy the hong bao while you shoot off lots of firecrackers.

I think we plan to play cards with friends tonight while eating peanuts, m&m's and cookies. This may explain why Chinese people tend to be smaller than westerners.

And of course, wish those around you a "xin nian kuai le!" Happy New Year!

The Joys of Thailand

To counteract my criticism of Thai breakfast buffets (really, it's not bad food - just funny that you can find the same thing across many countries) I thought I'd share some of my favorite things about Thailand.

1. Beach massages! You can get these for about 150 baht (currently around $4) - one hour for your whole body. Or for just your feet, if you prefer.
2. Lime shakes - $1 for the most refreshing drink I think I've ever had
3. Beach, and lots of it
4. Really friendly people. Sawadika! (that's hello. That's all I know how to say, except kapkumka, which is thank you. And baht, which means money).
5. Motorbikes. We do the traditional Thai family thing and squeeze all four of us on the motorbike for trips to and from our condo.
6. tropical weather - we enjoyed it in Singapore, but somehow it seems even better here. Maybe because of the beach
7. Everything's really cheap! what else can I say about that?

I'm off to enjoy one or more of the above.

The Asian Conference on Western Breakfast

Many of you may be unaware of the above conference which occurred some time in recent history and established conclusively for all Asian countries what Westerners appreciate for breakfast. I feel that perhaps actual westerners may have been unrepresented at this conference. This is what we have found at restaurants across Asia (and by that I mean Singapore, China, and Thailand) for western buffet:
cereal: corn flakes, rice crispies, some kind of chocolate cereal, and sometimes bran or muesli
a wide variety of sweetened bread - not quite doughnuts, but nothing included under Atkins
limited local fruits
eggs, bacon, pancakes, potatoes, sausage
salad (that's the Asian encouragement)
whole milk
something like Tang
tomato juice

My ideal western buffet is a wide variety of cereal and skim milk. I'd like to say I'm not complaining, but after two weeks of corn flakes and bran (you know, the kind that looks like little sticks) I'm hungry for my own choices. Just a little glimpse into a tropical vacation.

A Different Venue

Last Sunday morning, we stepped off the plane into Thailand, the only country in the world whose king actually still has power. Or so we've heard. I don't know what that really looks like, except that when you go to a movie here, you have to pay homage to the king before you can watch it.

So we go out to the curb and remind ourselves constantly, "They don't speak Chinese, they don't speak Chinese." It's instinctive, when you're in anothe country, to pull out whatever language you might know. We're back to pantomime and speaking slowly.

The long lines of cabs are silent. To save gas, they leave their engines off and push their cars forward when needed. We ask our driver to take us to the Baiyoke Suite Hotel. He is agreeable, but wants to give us a set rate instead of using his meter. We counter, "Use the meter. It's cheaper." He fights us, offering 300 baht and giving us all the typical reasons, "Much traffic, ok, no meter." He weakens, "Use meter, no use meter. No problem. Same same." Well, if it's same same to you, we'd like to use the meter. Score one for the Butz family.

Taxi drivers in Thailand drive like they are trying to break the sound barrier. There are no seatbelts. We hold on for dear life. This part of Thailand looks like Singapore and China combined - all the tropical weather in a dirty urban setting. The same partly built highways and buildings still line the road. We've seen them every year we've come.

We are only in Bangkok for one night, to go to the dentist here because it's so much cheaper. My dentist's first name is Wawit. Erik's is Choosin. These names crack us up. We have a hard time finding the dentist because none of the taxi drivers understand the name of the hospital. I find a man who will take us for 100 baht. I'm annoyed because I know that it should be half that price if he uses the meter, but I am at his mercy. As we drive, I realize this man could be taking my children and me somewhere else and I cannot stop him. I say, "The hospital is very close right? Shouldn't we be there already?" He slows down the car and starts to pull over, "Maybe you want to take another car," he threatens. "NO!" I cry. Ok, I'll shut up.

After the dentist, we want to swim. Well, the kids want to swim. We want to sleep. Score one for the Butz kids. As we walk out to the pool on the 11th floor, I say to Erik, "Is that air con I feel?" No, that's the actual air temperature. It must be 65 degrees out here. Our kids want to go in anyway. We shiver on pool chairs. A whole family from Denmark comes in and jumps straight in. Crazy Scandinavians.

In the afternoon, we go back to the airport to catch our shuttle to the conference. The irony of our trip is that it took two hours to fly here. It will take 3 hours to drive to our conference, and we're back tracking. Our bus leaves an hour and a half late, but we're on our way.

New Year's Resolution

I'm not one for New Year's Resolutions, but I was challenged the other day by a friend to more fully embrace life here - to focus on gains, not losses. I thought I had been doing pretty well with that, but after talking with him, I realized that there is still a little piece of my heart that is reluctant to settle in here, and I think it's probably because of something called pride, but don't quote me on that. In other words, I want to avoid hearing the "I told you you'd love Singapore"s from others, but I'm afraid it will be unavoidable from this point on because my resolution is:
Love Singapore.

I don't know how long we'll be here - originally we thought 2-3 years, now who knows? Jim Elliot (missonary) said, "Wherever you are, be all there. Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God." In light of that, here's my "gains" list to help me ponder the finer points of life here on this beautiful tropical island:
The weather - I'll always love snow (from inside, where it's warm) but I love that everyday has its share of enjoyable times. I love that it rains so much. I love that the evenings are cool and comfortable. I love that i rarely have to wonder if my kids can go out to play due to bad weather. I love that I never have to check the forecast.
Our complex - I love our pool. We have a pool! My kids can swim every day for free! I love that there's a playground right downstairs. I love that everyday someone comes and cleans our hallway and leaves that great smell in my elevator that I can't quite place. I love that I can get mail here and I can read all of it. (as opposed to trying to read Chinese). I love that there are families of people who love us and our kids living right here. I love that the guards at the gate know us and wave us in.
Our neighborhood - we have a hawker center right across the street! And you can walk right out to a taxi in front of our complex. There are three playgrounds within easy walking distance, and the most immaculate children's library I've ever seen right around the corner. I love that I can walk to four different grocery stores and three malls that have almost everything I need. I love that i can walk to two lines of the subway, and there are bus stops all around us. The streets are clean and safe, even at 6 in the morning.
The environment - Singapore is the cleanest, greenest, most beautiful place I have ever lived by far. The first drive we took, from the airport, was awe-inspiring. Tropical trees, which I wish I knew the name of (but they're not palm trees cause I'm not that stupid) hang over the street like a canopy in more places than one. The beach and the ocean are an easy drive in several directions. Sometimes it hits me, "I live on a tropical island." People dream of vacationing on tropical islands, and I live on one.
The shopping - I'll admit it, I really like to shop. I get overwhelmed sometimes and have to fight the temptation to be materialistic, but I love that I can think of something that I need, and I can go buy it. Today I went to two different Christian bookstores - two of many. Not only can I buy things I need, I can find things I haven't had for the past five years because I didn't even know they exist and now they're really fun to have. It's like Christmas everyday (except for the drain on our bank account - but this is a gains list!).

Ok, I have much more to say, but my clock is winding down for the night. Consider this Why Singapore is Great Vol. 1.

Culture clash

We have a friend here who tried an experiment in China. He went into a KFC and ordered a sundae with half chocolate, half strawberry. He was told that was not possible. "Yes, you can do it" he told them. "It won't taste good" was their reply.
"I'll be the judge of that. Just give me half chocolate and half strawberry." It was a lengthly battle finally won. He did it to test a strong cultural bond in China - the whole idea of changing the rules, thinking independently. It's extremely hard for many of them.

I find the same kind of thinking here as well sometimes. Yesterday I was shopping and wanted to try on a white shirt. I got the old stonewall, "Cannot."
me: Why?
Shoplady: Cannot. Cannot.
me: (let's try Chinese) Wei shenme?
Shoplady: (Don't insult me, I can speak English) Company policy.
I thought, "Now of all the colors I feel like it's safe for me to try on, it's white. That's the one color I won't get deodorant on." But then I reasoned, "Well, maybe it's to avoid getting make up on it," but I was still a little perturbed.

Later, I wanted to try another white shirt, so I asked her again, this time hoping for an actual REASON, "Why?"
"Cannot. Company policy." But WHY? That's the thing that gets me - they won't tell me the reason beyond what has been told to them.

I realize this isn't quite the same as what my friend encountered, but it grates on the cultural nerves because it's the idea that I should be satisfied with this level of reasoning. The rule is there, so you should be content with that. Curse my American upbringing which taught me to question everything!

In another store, I found their encouragement of this rule amusing. It simply said, "Please don't let our clothes ruin your make-up." Now we're getting somewhere.

Our fairy princess Megan

More signs of the times

Here are some of the interesting signs i've seen around:

In passing an office called SSi Technology, which boasted the slogan, "The domain of experts" I found it ironic that the office was completely empty. I'm talking it looked like these people skipped town overnight and didn't bother to vacuum. It can't be good for the rest of us.

Several places I've seen ads for an English program called (again appreciating the irony), "Speak Good English" accompanied by the phrases, "Speak clearly" and "be understood." I really hope a lot of people respond to this ad, because I have to say I still have a hard time with the Singaporean accent, particularly the taxi drivers. Smile and nod doesn't work well when you're hoping for a specific location.

Finally, my favorite, the signs you see upon entering the subway, or MRT as it's called here. These signs tell you what you will be fined for on the MRT and they are as follows: no food/drink (fine $500); no smoking (fine $1000); no flammable goods ($5000) and no durian (no fine, but probably lots of dirty looks).

I don't understand, but I'm COLD

I was standing in the post office yesterday where, despite the fact that due to air con it was already about 18 degrees Celcius (which is . . . I don't know . . . it's COLD, I know that). And on top of that, there was a fan blowing. Right on me. So here I am, Minnesota born and bred, freezing my tail off on a tropical island. Perhaps fitting given that it was December 23rd.

But it brought me back to this baffling question - why do they keep it so insanely cold inside? There is no reasonable explanation. It's not like these people transplanted from Alaska and can't handle the heat. Do they like to waste electricity? Do they like to spend money on a whole second wardrobe to wear indoors? Is this a silly way to demonstrate wealth? Do they just not like wearing shorts?! (side note: I have had almost no luck finding shorts here, even capris).

To add oddity upon oddity, many of them don't run their air cons at home - they just leave doors and windows open. I am at a loss to explain this, but I am really wishing now that I hadn't sent all my winter clothes back to the states. If you plan on coming to visit, don't forget your jacket!

Creative, but . . .

So when the kids were having "room time" today (Megan in their room and Ethan in the office, supposedly resting and doing "quiet" activities), I heard Ethan say to Megan, "Ok, Megan, so here's what we're going to do. I'm going to tie this rope around you . . ." which was the point when any good mother should intervene.

Turns out that Ethan had a great idea during room time, drew a picture of it, and then wanted Megan to join in the fun. I have to give Ethan points for creativity as well as putting a plan into action (that shows initiative) but I had to put the kabosh on this one. See below for evidence. Megan is the one hanging off the bed.

Ethan's depiction of fun with Megan

Almost like home

A friend of ours from work has lent us her car this week. So it would seem that a trip to the grocery store this morning would have been just like it is at home. You know - pile the kids into the car, drive there, park, go in, get stuff, pile the stuff and the kids back in the car and you're home free.

Well, it was almost like that. Except at home I don't have to sit down and ponder maps of the most unorganized country I've ever been in (why can't the streets just run north/south, and east/west? Why are there so many one ways?) to figure out how to get somewhere that's one subway stop away. And at home, I don't have to drive chanting the mantra, "Stay left! Stay left!" and wonder if I am going to scrape something with the left side of the car.

And at home, no one bothers to separate out my groceries by category, a practice here that annoys and amuses me simultaneously. I specified that I didn't mind if my bagger put all my groceries together, but I still got my fabric softener, my apples, and my bread in three separate bags. And one gigantic bag that could have contained both my children but instead only held toilet paper, kleenex, and pull-ups. What a waste of plastic.

I don't know if you can turn on red here (so I didn't) but I do know that there's an unwritten norm that everyone - and I mean everyone - should back into their parking space in the carpark (but I didn't do that either). I was happy to be able to park at all sitting on the right side of the car. Both times I parked I was pretty crooked. It's the wrong side I tell you!

I only got lost a little. And I only got one dirty look from another driver, which I returned because I thought it was his fault, but then I realized later that it was mine so I felt a little bad. I think my children are convinced I am insane with all the audible muttering I did. "Mommy, who are you talking to?" "Shh! I'm driving!"

So it was almost like home. But I don't think we'll be buying our own car anytime soon.

quirky things in the Singaporean movie theater

I'd like to point out three oddities about the movie theater we frequent here:
First of all, it is the coldest place in Singapore, aside from Snow City. Possibly nearly as cold as Snow City. The first time I went, I made the fatal mistake of wearing shorts and a tank top. When I left the theater, my body had that burning feeling you get when you heat up too quickly in a Minnesota winter. I couldn't feel my toes for about 1/2 hour.
Last night, I dressed smart - sweater, jeans, and I brought a pair of socks. I really could have used a blanket though. It reminded me of watching movies in my parents' basement in the winter.
Second, there is a concession stand in this theater much like other concession stands. You can buy the bigger popcorn for pennies more (Though they don't actually have pennies here). But the funny thing is the big signs on the doors of the theaters, "No food or drink allowed." I watched a guy stand and eat his nachos just right outside the door. So I guess, come early if you want to snack.
The third thing is that both times I have used a movie theater bathroom, I have happened to get the one squatty potty stall. Squatty potties to me should be a thing of the past, so there's some technological dissonance in my mind when there's a motion detection flush feature to the squatty. I just don't know what else to say about that.

So what movie did we see? National Treasure. I have to give it an, "Entertaining, but Nicolas Cage annoys me more every time I see him" critique.

Love in action

I have seen something recently that amazes me. It shouldn't amaze me, because it's simply love in action and it should happen everywhere, all the time. But it doesn't.

It is in witnessing an old man and what I assume is his granddaughter. She is probably about 1 1/2 years old and seems mentally impaired. Every day he takes her outside to play on the playground, go swimming, or just walk around pointing things out to her.

What amazes me about this is the look on his face. It is a look of pure joy and devotion. It is like there is nothing more important in the world to him than taking care of her. I want to cry every time I see him, because he is loving her so well. She is growing up surrounded by his kindness and grace to her and I know that it will impact her life forever. It is powerful and encouraging. It is the way I picture God caring for us and it is beautiful to see.