Here i am, sitting right on the edge of my bed, trying to type without falling on top of the laptop or spill the water beside it, thinking that i miss my couch that is on the other bedroom which i now cannot use. Add to that the fact i might not even be able to write a paragraph without bullet points or statements with less than 20 words in it. But i ought to.
Singapore is lovely. Hot. Humid. Clean. Highly regulated. With queues everywhere. People don't kiss (i scared a poor bloke to an inch of his life...), people don't trick you, i.e. taxis charge you what you should actually pay. The food is great. Wait, correct that: the food is amazing. And cheap. You can't jaywalk or you'll get fined. The husband is trying to kill this nice Singaporean by jaywalking across six lanes. The poor guy runs across like a headless chicken, each time telling the husband he will never do it again! If this wouln't be so culturally inappropriate (i.e. a Romanian 'f**k the government' type and a Singaporean 'the government is always right' type) i would find it hilarious. Luckily i'm a nice girl so i just find it amusing. In fact, even the Singaporean finds it so... after he recovers from the initial shock! It must be what being a revolutionist feels like :)
Then there is ice tea which comes with milk. WITH milk. Seriously, it's ridiculously bad! I could also talk about durian but it's such an odd thing that i will wait for people to come and visit to see the real thing. Nothing you can write about it can ever come close to what it is.
Thus, after you try your durian (and probably puke it), drink your ice tea (and probably snort it out your nose), eat your amazing meal (if there is a God, this is it), you can be slightly confused (i was not mesmerised.... i was confused!) by the dozens of shopping malls. I mean, i cannot exagerate this enough, i really just can't. These are huge, side by side, everywhere and, very often, full. There were three Louis Viutton in less than 500m, one with a queue, and there were other two being built 500m away. If a Singaporean sees a queue they will stay in line. It doesn't matter what it is about because the excitement of maybe finding something nice and cheap it's alluring enough. People buy. They buy and buy. Women dress with Channel and Louboutins and everyone had a LV bag, even guys (one day i will post about just how much i hate metrosexual shit like this). It very often feels like something out of this world such is the buy!buy!buy! factor.
So, with all the durians you can eat and puke, and all the ice teas you can repeatedly snort out because you keep forgetting to ask 'no milk please' (it really is counterintuitive!), and all the shopping you can (or not) engage in, the conclusion is that it is a really nice place with lovely people! Kind, with a wicked sense of humour and very well dressed :)
If you can get used to living in a place with only two seasons - the one boiling hot and humid outside and the one dry and freezing cold inside, you don't mind the state blocking your access to porn sites and you enjoy good and honest food*, come to Singapore! I'm counting the days.
Meanwhile i have to stop waking up at 4am, damn it!
*I got addicted to green tea swiss roll from
Breadtalk. And chilli crab. And satay. And.And.And.
