Atypical Singapore: the killing of 41 cockroaches:
Even in the middle of the day Singapore Airport seemed the height of peacefulness and civilisation. I said goodbye to Salahuddin who was continuing to Dhaka and went downstairs to see if they would let me into the country. They were pleased to have me and let me through to collect my luggage. I bought 3 cans of Tiger beer while I waited.
Out of the airport and onto the MRT (mass rapid transport). I bought an EZ-link card that would let me board any MRT and most buses and subtract the correct amount from what I had paid up front. Easy – EZ.
The comfortable and efficient train-thing took us passed lots of blocks of flats and other buildings and I got the impression of something between Chinatown and Legoland but much closer to Legoland. Most of the flats that overlooked the MRT had Singapore flags hanging from the balconies and in some of the blocks EVERY flat had one. (You will conform!). The flag is half red and half white. On the red half is a white new moon (representing a country in the ascendancy) and five stars (representing 5 ideals that I have forgotten).
I had chosen a large mid-range hotel in a convenient position and with other places nearby as alternatives, from the list I had picked up in the airport. I got off at the correct MRT station – EW9 and using bearings from the map in the station began to search for the hotel. I felt welcome when I passed a lorry that said “Hi Con” on the side.
31 Lerang 18 Geylang should be easy to find. Well, not that easy when I spent the first 40 minutes looking for House 18, Lerang 31 or the intersection of 31 Lerang and Geylang 18 instead of House 31, Lerang 18. It turned out that Geylang was the area that I was in – famed for its good quality, low price Chinese food.
By the time I realised my mistake and my bag was getting heavier and heavier, I felt like my arms were stretching to resemble an orangutan and I was certainly sweating like a pig, only worse. I was thirsty and hot and my feet were beginning to complain. I hadn’t seen any other hotels around here except for one small place above a small Chinese restaurant which I avoided. I had begun looking for any alternative and done a circle of a slightly more run down area (actually run down for Singapore but not bad at all) and passing one house that had swastikas built into the design of its windows. I also passed a little hostel where lots of beds were crowded into a small dormitory. I suppose the cheap immigrant labour has to live somewhere.
I gave up on that area and headed for Lerang 18. I walked now with new confidence down Simms Avenue towards Lerang 18. The roads are very orderly numbered (this being Singapore) and so navigating was no problem once I understood the address. Soon Lerang 22, 21, 20, 19…17. 17? Seventeen? Where was 18? Must be only on the other side of the Simms. So I crossed over and walked back up to …. 19! Where the hell is 18? So up 19 and across to find the little connecting road named 18 that must be there. No. Nowhere. (in fact even when I later tried to find it on the map it didn’t seem to exist). Rightey-o, I’ll go into the next hotel I see - if I see one. Soon a hotel appeared. Hotel Amrise. It looked OK from the outside. The reception was nothing special but with rooms at SG$39 per night (about 15 pounds sterling) I didn’t mind (no phone, no pool no pets). However, I thought it a bit of a dodgy sign that they also rented out rooms by 2 hour periods. A couple booked one for 2 hours as I was checking in. They obviously were in need of a nap.
It seemed a busy place. People were going up and down stairs as I made my way to room 301. On entering I was greeted by the inside of a bright yellow windowless box of 9 feet by 6.5 feet. With an attached bathroom that added another 3 feet on the end. Not bad – I only wanted to spend a night there. It also had a TV, air-conditioning and didn’t smell bad. I walked in and put my bag down. A couple of small cockroaches ran up the wall and within 2 minutes I had killed 4 and one had escaped. After 10 minutes the death toll had reached 13 and before I left, showered and changed to paint the town red (with a white new moon and five white stars). There was one English language TV channel that I could pick up and I was not going to stay and watch Dirty Dancing with the cockroaches.
I had had to pay for the room in cash (or two hours of pushing broom, maybe) and so found a cash machine to replenish the coffers before getting the MRT into town. When I alighted at Raffles place and began to search for Boat Quay or Clarke Quay, I started in the wrong direction. I realised my mistake when I saw the moon between the very tall buildings and remembered that it was in the east when I was looking for a hotel.
Despite the fact that buildings of up to 60 stories surrounding me it was quite a pleasant place and even more so when I hit the riverfront. There were some nice sculptures and buildings and river taxis plied up and down the waterway. I walked past lots of bars and restaurants that lined the waterfront. I saw Boat Quay and the Clarke Quay that is supposed to be the shape of the belly of a carp and is a little more geared to tourists. I ate sweet and sour pork with a Tiger Beer in an indoor food hall, considering that the romantic settings outside would be wasted on me. I then wondered back towards Boat Quay. I passed a bar that was showing West Brom playing against Man Utd and remembered that they had been promoted. It was almost half time and still 0-0. I guess it must be the first day of the season but it felt weird to think that the match was live and yet here it was 10:40pm. I went down some back streets and saw an Irish Pub that I considered going into. There was English football being shown live in lots of places. I then went back to the waterfront where two English pubs sat side-by-side. One had good-sounding live music but the other had draught Old Speckled Hen. Decisions had to be made and I went for the OSH even if it did cost SG$13 (5 quid) and sat outside watching the world go by. Chinese, Malay, Indian and more westerners than I have seen in most of the last year. A normal Saturday night out – the first I’d seen for nearly a year. Even if I did feel more like a spectator than a participant, it was a nice change. I finished my beer and went back to the hotel by MRT. Before going to bed I walked around the streets that surrounded the hotel. Lots and lots of Chinese-looking people ate lots and lots of Chinese-looking food. Karaoke bars broke the uniformity of Chinese restaurants but I wasn’t the slightest bit tempted to join in. There were also several places that called themselves Football Clubs or Sports Clubs.
I returned to my room and phase two of the massacre began. Within 15 minutes the death toll had risen from 17 to 35. I wiped the blood from my sword and then settled into bed to read Harry Potter with a can of Tiger and a John Lennon memorial concert in the background on the TV. Soon I slept.
18/8/02
I awoke before the alarm but lay in for a while before getting up at 8:30am.
First job was to kill six more cockroaches taking the dead to 41. I then showered and went for a short walk, considering breakfast and maybe a Thai massage at a nearby place I had spotted. The massage place was closed, being Sunday morning, and I didn’t feel hungry and so delayed breakfast until later. I decided that I would leave the hotel and take my luggage to the airport. I could leave it at left luggage and then would be free to roam for the rest of the day before heading back to the airport by about 6-6:30pm.
When I got back to the room I saw another 3 cockroaches but as I was moving out decided to live and let live. Why not let someone else have the fun. I checked out, or at least gave my key back as I had to pay in advance, thanked the receptionist pleasantly and left to visit Changi Airport left luggage. Now I had 7 hours of unfettered tourism ahead of me. I decided to go to the island of Sentosa which is a bit of an artificial tourist resort but at least there were a lot of attractions in a small area and so I could make best use of my short time there. One day is not enough to see the whole country.
I got the MRT back West and got of at a stop that I had decided was North of Sentosa. If I headed South I couldn’t miss the coast and then the island would be easy to spot. My plan was a little scuppered by a huge container port between me and the island. I should have guessed I mean Singapore is big for business and from the plane I’d seen the number of ships in the surrounding waters. Occasionally, on the fence around the container port was a sign saying prohibited area with a picture of a man with his hands up while another points a bayoneted rifle at him. So, I didn’t attempt a short cut and wasted an hour walking around it. Finally I crossed the bridge and paid my SG$6 to get on the island.
By now it was lunchtime so I had char sui and noodles for breakfast along with a fresh coconut to drink. The food was a reasonable price at SG$5 but SG$4 for coconut was steep compared to 10 Taka in Bangladesh (about 13 times less), even if it was nicely carved into a cylindrical drinking vessel.
I walked through some of the gardens and past the about 60 feet high Merlion – Yes it’s half lion and half fish. It is a model of the one that climbed up a trail of self-sacrificing sea creatures to the highest point of Sentosa to frighten away a storm that would have otherwise destroyed Singapore. Something like that anyway. Believable?
Then to the beach. There was a contrast between the tropical beach and the mass of passing ships and an oil refinery. Not much sunbathing or swimming but a lot of beach volleyball. I had a bit of a swim in the sea and then when I had sun-dried (I didn’t have a towel) I changed back into my clothes and headed for Underwater world. It wasn’t a very big place but they had some good aquaria and there was a nice tunnel that went through a huge tank full of big fish including groupers, ray and sharks.
I began up the hill towards the cable car station and diverted along a trail that weaved through the woods A nice view from an old fort/gunning position. I had a drink and an ice slush thing to cool me down and then left the island by cable car.
From here I got a bus to the centre of the city and went again to Boat Quay. The time was approaching for me to go to the airport, so I had a last pint of Old Speckled hen and a roast beef sandwich at the Penny Black Inn. I ate and drank next to the river while reading some Harry Potter. Then to the MRT and airport and time to leave Singapore.
I risked a litre of duty free Glen Morangie to join the Philippino rum and also bought some chocolate. I then sat down with a ham and cheese sandwich and a can of stout – topping up my levels of alcohol and pork products before returning to Bangladesh.
At the boarding gate I felt like I was already back, and it was a bit of a disappointing feeling. I stood in a slow moving queue for about half an hour as almost every Bangladeshi set of the metal detector – a look of surprise as they emptied metallic objects from their pockets. Several bags had to be opened after the x-ray spotted screwdrivers or penknives and lots had bought hand-luggage far too large for the cabin. This looked obvious since so many were using trolleys to carry their hand luggage. In general the boarding was slow and a little chaotic, while the staff under a professional veneer looked harassed. The take-off was delayed by the slow security checks and then further delayed when one person who had checked in his luggage decided not to fly. They had to locate and remove his baggage of course. The man sitting next to me pointed to his watch but the limited language between us meant I couldn’t explain what the announcement had just said (in English only – I think they ought to do announcements in Bangla too) and so I nodded. This man couldn’t read or write so he asked me to fill in his disembarkation form for him. At first I thought he wanted to borrow the pen but it wasn’t that. So I filled in all the data that I could get from his passport including the number, place and date of issue (Kuala Lumpur) his occupation (labour), name. Then the easy stuff like date, place of embarkation. I knew how to ask his address in Bangla but only managed to get the area in Dhaka. Then I tried to persuade him to sign it or at least put a cross or whatever you’re meant to do. He wouldn’t sign it though. I left his customs declaration form alone. They could sort that out for him on arrival. I filled in my own customs form but deferred decision on whether I should declare the alcohol that I was carrying (the form didn’t say that there was any duty-free amount). I decided that they wouldn’t check and so lied on the form and then signed to confirm the lie.
There was something wrong with my control and so my movies didn’t work. However, with it being my fourth Singapore Airlines flight in a week I was running out of films that I really wanted to watch and so didn’t complain and read some more Harry Potter. Some sort of spicy Malay fish for dinner. Then I got a little sleep, unbothered by thoughts of cockroaches.
While I waited at the baggage carousel, I noticed that a crowd of customs people were around the Green Channel. They weren’t missing a trick, collecting the declaration forms and then sending bags through an x-ray machine to check. My two litres of spirits and two cans of beer (plus free 50ml bottle of whisky) would be easy to spot and I had lied on my form. I let my bag pass for another circuit as I observed and considered the situation. I think they were x-raying everyone and people were arriving slowly enough that there was never any queue. I couldn’t get past. So, I grabbed my bag and approached the most senior looking person who was the one collecting the declaration forms and sending people to the x-ray. I told him that I had one bottle of whisky in my bag (still lying now) and so should I go through the red channel. (I had calculated that at the red channel I could pay duty on one bottle and they wouldn’t check the rest.) He said, no, he would like to allow me two bottles. He waved me past the x-ray machine and through the green channel saying, “Welcome to our country”.
I walked out to hear someone shouting "boss boss" and was driven safely home by Ruhal Amin my driver.At home the guard opened the gate and saluted me. I wonder if there will ever come a day when I miss this bullshit.
email: conradsci @ yahoo.co.uk