singapore: thirty-six hours later

so, here it is, thirty-six hours later and i'm finally in singapore with internet, a chair, and, thank god, english. it's 8:30 am here, 7:30 at night for you. i'm not quite sure how, but i'm running on energy that falls somewhere between 5 hours of sleep, adrenaline, and the dragonfruit from the local market downstairs (which, by the way, is delicious and not a made-up flavor of rum like i thought).

..

i guess i can start at 7am on the 19th when i woke up. it's only been a 36 hour day, or as chris, my host, said "oh, so you haven't started or ended your day yet?" sounds about right. for all i know, it's actually june, because it sure feels that way outside.

brandi got me on the right train in philadelphia, and i arrived in jfk international airport around 12:45. i had been thinking that three hours might cut it close to get on my plane in time: but less than 10 minutes later, i had gotten my tickets, gone through security, and ordered a nine dollar bud light that was much less than necessary. i occupied the entire two hours and fifty minutes on the phone til i had to board.

in my four separate out-of-the-country trips, i've never had to deal with the language barrier. english was previlent in south africa, england and the netherlands, and i spoke enough french to get by in paris. i was never even really worried about the languages, despite the thousand times people asked me before i left, "do you speak any of those languages?" i just always said that my guide book had a few key phrases for each language, but it's not exactly like i can whip out lonely planet, open its magical pages where fairy dust sprinkles across the room and let it talk for me. i'm not sure what any of the pronunciations are supposed to be. and i'm not sure why i wasn't more concerned.

well i got a nice wake-up call on the plane.

as soon as i boarded, i looked at the nice stewardess and asked:
--"excuse me, where are the bathrooms?"
--"the wha?"
--"the bathroom?"
--"baa...badroom?"

badroom? lady, i'm not trying to put myself in timeout.

--"restroom?"
--blank stare and headshake.
--"uh, bathroom, restroom.... baaaathhhrooooom"

because, of course, saying it slower and drawing out the vowels would make it a different, more understandable word.

--her blank stare is now being shared with other nearby chinese guy. aaand i feel like an arrogant american asshole.

at this point i'm trying to think of a universal hand gesture for peeing but i can't think of anything mildly appropriate.

--"toilet?!"
--"ah, toilet. that way."
note to self: "toilet."

..

fun fact: chicken is a bad choice. pork, much better.

..

there were no tvs on the back of the seats on the flight, so everyone had to watch the same thing the whole time. when we arrived in beijing, i had about five hours to kill, so, naturally, i sniffed out a bar and drank a beer while passing time. the beijing airport was massive and gorgeous, but dead. i was so tired at this point i thought i might fall asleep and miss my flight. i had hardly slept on the thirteen hour flight from new york to beijing, and all i wanted to do at this point was curl up and conk out. i managed to catch a few hours on the way to singapore.

..

fun fact two: the chinese do not like lines. they mob.

..

when i stepped off the plane at 6:30 in the morning, it was eighty degrees out. it took almost no time to get through customs and grab my stuff, where alex met me after baggage. we hopped on their "metro," the ktm, grabbed fruit from the stand outside of the complex, and came up to the apartment. i thought maybe we'd nap a bit before heading out, but we've got an entire day planned in this city full of palm-tree lined streets, colorful buildings and gorgeous skyscrapers.

wish us luck. :)

..





Y rae. racho. d.