February 21, 2008

(SINGAPORE)

My Father's Last Day in Singapore: Chinatown Hawker Food

Today was the last day to show my father around Asia, wrapping up a two week trip through three of Asia's showcase cities: Tokyo, Hong Kong, and Singapore. His business trip was highly successful, from what I understand of it, but more importantly it was a great chance for he and I to spend some "quality time" together. At the risk of sounding sentimental, the older one becomes the fewer chances there are to spend actual one-on-one time with one's parents, and the 10 days or so when it was only he and I was as good a bonding experience as anything I can imagine. It really was fortunate that his trip coincided with my Winter holiday, and that I have lived in each of the cities we visited made it easy to find convenient things to do.

Enough of the sappy emotions - now we can go back to the normal routine of talking sports, drinking Bud Lite together when the opportunities arise, competing in everything from foosball to driving to the hardware store, and talking every couple of weeks from across the world.

The final item on the agenda for his Asian trip was a visit to a Singaporean hawker center: an absolute must for anyone looking beyond the glamour of extravagant shopping malls or the benefits of an artificially created country. Since today was the last day for celebrating the Chinese New Year, I decided Chinatown would be the best place to visit, and we could choose between Maxwell Road and Chinatown itself for hawker food. As a side note, although this is the year of the rat, in the Chinese language there is no prior distinction between a rat and a mouse, so in reality this can be seen as either the year of the rat or the mouse. The rat is commonly chosen by Asians because it is seen as a more prosperous animal - obviously in stark contrast to western sentiment.

Chinatown is located in the heart of Singapore on the Northeast Line, and immediately after leaving the station one is surrounded by orderly shops selling brightly colored tourist items: "hand-painted" fans, humorous t-shirts declaring that "Singapore is a FINE City," and cheaply made craftworks imported from sweatshops in China. There were also dozens of Chinese herbal medicine shops, but I would be surprised if any of them have ever sold something to a non-Chinese person - despite the curious tourists who inevitably have a look at the various mushrooms, roots, and antlers on display.

It was only 6:00 pm when we reached Maxwell Road, so many of the stalls were not yet open, and the only people sitting down at the tables were the already-drunk "uncles" who have been loitering around since the early afternoon. In the end, I decided the hawker center at Chinatown has a better selection of food, and a far more authentic feel about it. Although Chinatown is an MRT stop, and it attracts foreign tourists by name alone, the reality is that there are enough locals who come here to far outnumber the spattering of angmoh ordering food.

While my father grabbed a table underneath one of the revolving fans at the outdoor food center, I ordered him a large Tiger beer and set out to find the "Singaporean Classics" amid the maze of hawker stalls (there are over 100): char kway teow (a plate of gelatinous fried noodles with pork), fried oysters with chili sauce, Shanghai steamed dumplings, and Hainan chicken rice. While eating, we went through a few more bottles of beer while we "blended in" with the night crowd on another sweaty night in Singapore. The most memorable part of the meal was the hot sauce on the Hainan chicken that nearly gave my father a heart-attack: his blood pressure went through the roof, and despite a lengthy trip to the bathroom he continued sweating for the rest of the evening. Once more, I bit my tongue, and said something like, "Yes, you are right, this is spicy!" but in reality, he will need more time in Asia.