When my departure from Hong Kong was confirmed, I did what most people do and made a list of things I should try and accomplish before leaving. It was mostly food, hikes, visiting favorite places and people. But I realized that in seven years here, there were some places I’d never been, having put them in the “we’ll get there someday” basket. And one of those was Singapore.

I’m sure like many of you, my biggest frame of reference for this tiny country is “Crazy Rich Asians,” which I devoured as a book series and really enjoyed as a movie. Living in here in Hong Kong, and especially as an international teacher, and even more so in the light of Covid and how that changed everything, I’ve heard about it a lot more. It’s often compared to Hong Kong, and so I thought I’d find a lot in common. 

very very important rule on trains, planes, and automobiles.

It’s only a 3.5 hour flight, and cheap, so in a fit of fancy and realizing I didn’t even need to file for a visa, I booked a Friday night out, Sunday night back in weekend trip for myself. I just wanted to say I’d been. And I gave myself a little challenge – take only a backpack. Spoiler – total game-changer and I only wore three out of six dresses. I booked a decently priced hotel, looked at a few travel blogs, and let the general excitement of somewhere new take hold. It’s one of my favorite feelings. 

We didn’t start so strong – all the news of turbulent flights (on Singapore Airlines, of course) had me extra nervous, and then a flight delay meant hours wasted in anxiety the afternoon (and two glasses of prosecco at the fancy flight bar, despite promising myself to purposefully dehydrate before boarding to avoid ever taking off my seatbelt). I had a middle seat between two man-spreaders who didn’t honor the unspoken middle-seat-gets-the-armrests rule, but I read my book and snoozed a bit, watching some great movie about the underdog Olympic rowing team that kicked Hitler’s ass in the 30s over the shoulder of the person in front of me, who had kindly put on subtitles. 

walking through Little India

The flight was a bit bumpy, and we landed late, but I loved the fast customs (but no passport stamp! sad!). However,  the train wasn’t going when I arrived, which was a long walk to figure out. I had to take a pricey taxi ride (but the driver was singing along delightfully to “Just Call Me Angel of the Morning”) that finally had me checking in at 2am to possibly the smallest hotel room I’ve ever stayed in. I think I forgot to check the option for “I’d like a floor.” The bed touched three out of four walls. And the aircon made a crackling noise, the gym, restaurants, bar were under construction, the ice machines didn’t work, and service also seemed hard to dole out. But no matter. I decided to forgo my initial plan of “up early and conquer” to let my body wake up when it wanted. Luckily I had earplugs and the bed was glorious and sleeping pills are magic.

I finally made it out to the streets at 10:30 Saturday and it was a real feel of 99 degrees Fahrenheit already. Splendid. I had mapped out several places recommended to visit and so wandered the quaint streets with brightly coloured buildings, shutters, an endearing and peaceful (but very well monitored) mix of Chinese, Malaysian, Indian, Western, Middle Eastern cultures languages religions. Restaurants from every cuisine on every corner. The sweltering heat meant ducking into every Starbucks and 7-11 and bougie grocery store to check out the differences and find cool air vents to stand directly under and try to discreetly air out all my bits. 

Following my tradition, I had Mexican food just to see what they make of it, and I have to say, it was top notch. The obligatory Singapore Sling was beautiful (and pricey) but very sweet. It did help me cool down in the rainstorm, watching the colorful boats and people cruise by on the river, chatting up the Indian waitress and the British tourists as we crowded under the umbrella. 

I saw the Merlion, the shopping alleys, the beautiful malls, the interesting architecture, and drank a beer called Zendaya in the park. The indoor waterfall and jungle at the airport was incredible, I had the best açai since I left Brazil, and gelato that helped take the edge off. I loved the wide streets, how polite everyone was, the cleanliness, the civility. Not a single person clipping their toenails in public! No one shouting! No one staring! But the inner thigh heat rash and constantly finding bits of napkin on my face from wiping sweat away every five minutes made it hard to enjoy myself when outside. The heat was just disrespectful.

As an international teacher, every time I travel is like checking out future life real estate – could I live here? What would I like? What would I hate? How much would I have to make in order to survive and thrive? And honestly, SIngapore was a nice quick weekend, but . . . not enough money in the world for that humidity. My goodness. It was debilitating. 

Time away, no matter how short, is also always good to make you miss home. And Hong Kong has been home for seven years, but just 40 days more. It has character, challenges, amazing food, my favorite walks and my lovely studio and patio and plant friends and real friends. To be saying goodbye is a surreality I’m not sure how to handle! 

bye, Singapore.

A big part of me is pretending it’s not happening . . . she is stomping her feet and a bit angry and sad and bewildered and overwhelmed by all the logistics and scared of change and wondering if I’ll ever make good friends again . . . a small, mature part of me is quietly raising her hand and insisting I get good closure and see everyone I need to see and leave well. I hope she wins. She requires a lot of chocolate and wine and walks by the water these days. She could use your prayers and good vibes, if you’ve any to spare. 

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