April 14, 2007

SINGAPORE

Old Promises, Fisherman's Village, and Bapok

I hate month old promises. Somehow they are always the ones you want to get out of, but never can.

So, even though I have final exams within spitting distance, I upheld my promise to meet several friends for a birthday dinner. I rode the Singapore MRT across the country for a dinner of tofu skins, pork stuffed peppers, fish balls, quail eggs, and of course, white rice. Joining me were several Singaporeans and a German friend, Dirk, who is working for Allianz Insurance in Singapore.

After dinner we decided to keep the night going. Rather than heading back to drench myself in more monotonous studying, I figured "what the hell I'm out here anyway" and came along.

At first it was a bad decision because we listened to some of the most god-awful music in the car. The radio stations in Singapore either play the kind of elevator music that makes people take the stairs, or the wearisome one-hit-wonders that are solely reserved for commercials.

My friends realized I was stressed over exams, so they took me to a place called Fisherman's Village in Northeastern Singapore. There were no ang moh (westerners) to be found anywhere, which I always love because it means no tourists.

Buried deep within Pasir Ris park are a string of small cafes lining the ocean embankment. With candles, pool tables, an ocean view, "Tequila Sunrise" type music, and of course alcohol, Fisherman's Village now tops the list of my favorite places in Singapore.

After relaxing for a while, I realized it was getting late and the Arsenal were about to begin an important football match. We decided to watch the match at another popular district, Changi Village, which is known for its transvestites as much as its good food.

Maybe it was the ice cold Tiger beer, but by this point in the night I was feeling decidedly better. In fact, I was jumping out of my seat as Arsenal rallied to overcome an early deficit. I even won money after betting that my favorite player, Cesc Fabregas, would score his first goal of the season, and sure enough he followed through on my promise!

When we hopped back in the car for the night we drove around the parking lot looking for bapok (Malay term for transvestite.) After we spotted our first one I became mentally disoriented. On the one hand, she looked quite good, but on the other (infinitely more important) hand, she wasn't really a she.