zimatravels

This is the Singapore I first observed in 1989.

Singapore is a mixture of China without the dirt, India of the high caste only, and American values, looks, and money.  One must admire an entire country that is squeaky clean enough to eat off subway floors, prohibits smoking in almost all places, has virtually no crime or drugs, and although home to a mix of cultures, demands integrated neighborhoods and no racism.

Singaporeans are neither friendly nor unfriendly.  Bus drivers can speak English, but don’t offer much help in getting around because they seem to know only their own routes.  It is steamy hot like Bali, but not as gentle as Bali.

One should not judge cities too quickly, for each city has its blemishes and its good sides.  Singapore has an emphasis on materialism much like the U.S., but without the crime and craziness, or democracy.  But the dictatorial ways of the government have also given Singaporeans a good life.  The government has myriad rules and regulations, which not only keep out pornography and drugs, but which even prevent traffic jams in the city by only allowing certain-numbered license plates to drive certain places on particular days.

Singapore has made me think of how out of proportion the world is economically.  I paid $3.00 for a musical greeting card to send to a friend in China where $25 is a monthly wage.  And an East Indian Singaporean woman told me that her mother had shopped every day of her adult life but ten — on each of those ten days she had had a baby.  The amahs, live-in nannies, did everything else.

I slept last night in a 2 x 4 cubicle with only a mattress on the floor surrounded by a good number of sleeping bodies in a crash pad in Singapore.  Tonight I have a bedroom larger than my entire apartment in Israel, a magnificent penthouse view of the Singapore skyline, and a luxurious bathroom that looks out over the city from the 22nd story.

I have gone from rages to riches because I called Mrs. N., whose name had been given to me by someone I met in Bali.  Mrs. N.’s husband was sent by his company to work in Singapore.  They live “high” in every way.  Their apartment is absolutely huge and on multi-levels, with more luxury than anything I’ve seen, and certainly much more than anyplace I’ve ever stayed.  It’s a peek into another foreign place to me — the world of the wealthy.

Singapore has lush vegetation, cleanliness, efficiency, and a certain upper middle-class boredom.  To me, it lacks the charm of Hong Kong.  While I’ve penned these musings about Singapore in a Burger King, the employees have continually mopped and wiped around me.