Three ladies on a moped welcome us to Thailand with a wave and smiles.

Journal by Nancy Olson, photo by Neil Dana

The team has just left Singapore. I was in Singapore in 1999 when I was on a 6-month deployment as a U.S. Marine. I remember having fun in Singapore, but I remember being entirely unimpressed with it, on the whole. I had grand expectations, and I don’t think they were met. It was prohibitively expensive and, well, controlled. My Marine and Navy friends and I were always afraid we’d accidentally break one of their many laws. We ended up alright, though, and even though Singapore broke us all fiscally, we had a great time.

This trip to Singapore was different. We didn’t have time to see any of the city other than the street our hotel was on, and we didn’t get to enjoy the night life at all. I walked around a little bit, but I spent most of my time in the hotel, working. For that reason, I have chosen to use journal entries from my first visit to Singapore, when I was a young, carefree, Captain of Marines. The entries have been edited for public consumption, and names have been changed or deleted to protect the guilty. Revisiting my old journals, I see that not a lot has changed about Singapore. What HAS changed is my perceptions. I think that has to do with my advanced years. I was impressed, this time, with the cleanliness and the good order and discipline of the city, but I still got the impression that the government is too controlling. I guess that’s what happens when your whole country is the size of a big city. It’s like a biosphere. In order to keep it running in harmonious equilibrium, every aspect has to be strictly controlled. Housing is thoroughly restricted, there is a set number of cars that can be legally registered each year in order to maintain traffic levels, litter has been eradicated, and crimes are very heavily punished. Death penalty to those caught with drugs in their possession. Caning for those who commit slightly lesser crimes, such as defacing property. Enormous fines to those who break small laws such as driving on restricted roads or possession of bootleg music or pornography. The government has its hands in everything, and I got the sense that people were repressed. Here’s how I felt in 1999:

24/25 July, Sat/Sun 1999

Well, when liberty sounded on the 24th (at around noon, I think), we got off the boat and took a bus to the MRT station. The MRT is a really nice metro-type train used by just about everybody in the country to get to just about any destination in the country. Lots of cabs, too. Very few people own their own cars. I’m a big nerd, I’ll have you know, because I carried note-taking gear with me everywhere I went in order to record sights and events for this journal.

My first impression was that Singapore was not half as clean as I thought it would be. There were no gum Nazis patrolling the streets with giant canes. There were no litterbug Nazis, no graffiti Nazis. I actually saw gum remnants on the sidewalks, and I saw litter in the bushes and on the streets. What’s up with that? I’m starting to understand why everybody was so upset about that kid getting caned.

I’ve never been in such an expensive city. It was $16 for a beer, and $11 for a glass of wine at the hotel. We went to a place called “Raffles”, where the famous Singapore Sling originated, to have our first sample of the much trumped-up concoction. Well, for four of these “foofy” drinks, my buddy paid a hefty $80. Of course, all of these prices are in Singapore dollars, but that’s still a lot of money. (I almost choked when I went to the ATM to withdraw some cash and my balance said $3,000. I never have that much money. Of course, that was in Sing dollars, too.) Later that night, when I bought us two pitchers of beer, I was dimayed to hand the waitress $70. The cheapest place we could find was at a little, local, public, cat-infested, outdoor dining stand, where a big bottle of Guinness ran an affordable $8, and the bathrooms were nothing but dirty little holes in the ground.

We clubbed and danced the night away, and then returned to our cushy hotel for the night.

We had to check in early the next morning, so we all hopped on the MRT again.
I took some notes about what I saw on the way back. Of note was the concept that if you looked “solely” at people’s shoes, you would get the distinct impression that the MRT had somehow transported you back through time to the ‘80s. Some interesting foot gear. Michael Jackson would be proud.

I also noticed that everything--ads, street signs, intercom announcements--was in English, but nobody around us on the train was speaking English. Oh, and the bell-bottom trend, apparently, is very widespread. Americans, Koreans, and Singaporeans alike wear them. And platform shoes. Very tall. All the kids wear
‘em.

27/28/29 July, Tues-Thursday

The evening of the 27th, my friends and I went on a night safari. On the bus ride over there, we learned some Singaporean societal tidbits from our tour guide, Vena. Apparently, about 85% of the population lives in government-owned apartments. These apartments can be bought for about $200,000 U.S., or they can be rented for about $500-1000 per month. Instead of asking “will you marry me,” young men propose by saying, “shall we apply for a house?” There is a 2-year waiting list, and first priority is given to applicants who can prove that they will be providing room and board for their parents. They can use $200-300 per month from social security to pay for their home, so they don’t need to take out loans. In order to keep people from trying to make money in real estate, the buyers are not allowed to sell their apartments for 5 years.

The Night Safari was very cool. Of course, it was nothing like the San Diego Wild Animal Park, but it was fun. They must starve the animals all day and then feed ‘em at night so the people can see them. The big cats (lions, tigers, leopards) were all gnawing on animal pieces tied to trees right out in the open. They had every kind of animal imaginable. I think my favorite was the “slow loris”, a tiny, sloth-like creature with fuzzy, cuddly fur. He really was slow. Moved like an old man on depressants. I want one. He was like something right out of a Dr. Seuss book.

The 29th was sort of a planes, trains, and automobiles day. We took a bus to a taxi-cab stand to a cable car to Santosa Island. We hung out at the beach all day and we swam and dove off a floating dock for hours. I looked like a little old raisin woman by the end of the day. We left at around 6-ish and took the cable car back over the harbor to the Singapore mainland, then caught a bus to where all the bars and restaurants are at a place called “Boat Quay.” Then we hopped on a riverboat, which brought us to “Clark Quay,” where we had pizza at a place called Bellavista. I always like eating the native food, but none of the folks I hang out with will dine with me. Wimps! They did let me eat at a vendor one night, though, where I had stingray that was out of this world!

That night, we headed back to the ship and prepared to set sail for Thailand.

Logbook for May 27th, Day 209; Happy Birthday to Nancy’s dad, Vaughn!
Start: Singapore, Singapore
Time: 8:00 a.m.
N: 01* 16.695
E: 103* 46.855
Finish Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia
Time: 9:30 p.m.
N: 03* 08.889
E: 101* 42.410
Mileage:
Notes: Team departed Singapore for Malaysia, just to the north. The city is busy as can be, and mopeds and pedestrians jump out at vehicles from nowhere. The streets are crowded with kiosks selling everything from whole roasted ducks to toys and shoes. We’re checked into a seedy little backpacker’s place, where we are required to remove our shoes before coming inside, and the bathroom floors are less than clean. I’ll bet we move tomorrow…The border crossing was a cakewalk, but getting gas without Malaysian money proved difficult…

The team spent yesterday and today quoting “Zoolander’s” movie line about the prime minister of MaLAYsia.
(N.O.)

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