Monday 15 August 2011

Well, here we are then....


You may have noticed that an entry has disappeared. I wrote about my friends daughter who died without realising that it had hit the British press. I would hate to inadvertently reveal details about their lives that they would prefer to remain private so I've removed that entry. I am also reminded that it's not a good idea to use people's names so I won't any more and have edited through previous entries where I may have been more indiscreet.

I had talked about getting things in perspective and those troubling things at that time had been the stress of moving into our flat which we've now happily been in for a few weeks. It does seem ridiculous to be delighted to have moved out of a 5* hotel, but I am. It's so good to be able to cook again and wash my own clothes, to start to put down roots and get to know my area, to find my local supermarket, post office and corner shop all of which I have.

I want to tell you about my favourite person here in Singapore so far. His name is A***. Now I suspect that isn't what his mother named him as it's a very western name and he is a 70 year old Chinese man. But that's how he was introduced to me so that is what we will call him.

And how did we meet I hear you ask? Well, I have to start with the contract you make as a tenant in Singapore. One of the stresses from the deleted entry was that we were sent a new contract at 10.30 the night before we were due to sign the lease, which the DFP refused to sign as he'd got people at work to check over the contract and I had asked my father who is a retired property lawyer to look at it too. My Dad thought it was mean in parts, no fair wear and tear clause and a mean diplomatic clause which means we could get out of our two year lease after the first year if the DFP were sent elsewhere, but only at quite large financial loss.

Anyhow the long and the short of all of that was that the DFP was arguing his way through the new contract which should have been signed at 10am but when it came to it was still battling on gone 12 noon by which time I was outside the apartment block with the removals men with whom I had driven around Singapore collecting the various bits and pieces of furniture I had bought. They had unloaded these onto the grass outside while I phoned the DFP asking 'how much longer' and he said (about five times) 'two more minutes'. Anyhow, he signed, we moved in, all good.....

….until Sunday night when we tried to roast a chicken and it fused all the lights.

Now the contract we battled over said, as is standard, you have 30 days to report things in the flat which aren't working and it's the landlord's responsibility to fix them after which time the first $150 cost is paid by the tenant. The oven fusing the lights clearly is the landlord's responsibility which brings us to A***.

I called H*** P*** and told her and soon I got a call from A*** which I understood about half of. Although English is supposedly the first language in Singapore I am discovering that quite a lot of people either speak very little English or not at all, like the woman who dyed my hair.

Anyhow, A*** speaks some, but not much but is one of the more delightful people put on this earth. When he arrived he seemed convinced he's seen me at thet market at Old Airport Road, which is quite possible. It's about 10minutes walk from us and has an amazing hawker centre. Tonight for supper there we had fried fish with Sambul, kailam (a leafy green vegetable) with garlic, chicken wings and tiger beer. What a feast!

I am trying to think why I like A*** so much. He's very smiley and friendly. He's very small and thin but with lots of his own hair. His toenails are black and curly. He came around twice, once with a friend and both times with no success insofar as the cooker not fusing the lights. He suggested in the most winning manner that I might perhaps like a small oven that would sit on the side instead of the current one being mended. I thought about it, but felt fairly sure I would like the large one to work.

Eventually he took the oven away. He had to go and get one of the guards to help him carry it downstairs. I would have helped but didn't understand what he was saying when he must have been saying “I'm going to get one of the guards to help me carry your heavy oven”.

The effort of lifting it doubled him over and he said 'I seventy you know!' I told him I hoped I looked as good as he does at seventy. I doubt he understood what I was saying. When he came back, again with a friend but a different one this time, to replace the now working oven he met the DFP for the first time and told me he was very 'hamsone'. Which of course he is.

I feel as though, even though we don't really have a clue what we're saying to each other, he's my friend.

My other friend who spoke no English was the guy who tidied the room at the hotel. On our penultimate day in the hotel I waited I gave him a tip and then went up for a swim while we tidied the room. He look staggered when I gave him the money. When I got back from my swim he was still there and the DFP arrived. He asked us (gestured, pointed and used similar amounts of English as my twin niblings who aren't yet two) for a plastic bag and left. I got into the shower and he knocked on the door while I was in there. The DFP said, suspiciously, 'did you give him a tip?' He had filled the bag with mini sewing kits, teabags, cotton buds etc. All the things I usually steal from the trolleys as I go past unless the DFT is there to say 'it's not a buffet'. I am learning that it isn't usual to tip over here.


Religion with parking space




 ....and without...




As well as being a place where you can get laid Geylang has a lot of temples so you can mix business with pleasure. In our street we have three different religions establishments: Buddhist, Christian and Taoist. With impressive foresight many of these boast their own parking.

The Evangelical place of worship opposite has, very cannily in my opinion, it's own parking built in. The first two floors are car park and presumably the upper floors are all about God.

Now for those of you who may be questioning this combination of the practical and the divine you can't have had the same Catholic upbringing I had. I remember some very unholy family moments trying to find a parking space when we'd left it just a little bit too late going to mass.

No such tensions would be experienced here in Geylang! Region with parking. What a great idea. Coming soon chickens that jump into your ovens and parking wardens who give change for meters.

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