Would You Rather Meet Willy Wonka or Buddha?

This past week was pretty rainy, which was actually kind of nice. I don’t think I realized, even with my sunglasses on, how much constant sunshine can strain a person’s eyes. The cloud cover was refreshing, and my eyes finally felt like they could relax and breathe for a few days.

But the rain did limit some of my Adventure Wednesday options. Sometimes the on-again-off-again storms hit with the ferocity and visibility of a dense waterfall. So obviously Dagny and I wouldn’t be doing anything outdoors, or anything that required extensive walking outside.

Fortunately there is an entire city that exists beneath Singapore.

No kidding, there are miles and miles of malls and store-lined hallways, extending five or six stories below ground. It took me a while to get used to it… the feel of a mall with no natural light, no windows… walking around like a lost mole in a never-ending maze. None of the malls or underground “links” are on a grid system… they wind and twist and take you up ramps and down escalators and just when you think you know where you are, you pop your head out of ground like Bugs Bunny, look left and right, and realize you have NO idea where you are after all. (And, if you’re sticking with the Bugs Bunny theme, you may say something like, “I knew I should have taken a left at Albuquerque.”)

Anyway, on our saturated Wednesday this week, Dagny and I ventured into the subterranean malls. And believe it or not, I actually got us to our intended destination! There wasn’t going to be anything cultural about this particular adventure… today was a day out for Dags, and was appropriately dubbed “Willy Wonka Wednesday.”

We went to a mall that is just for kids. Dagny rode carousels and a knock-off Thomas the Train. We wandered in and out of stores in search of new shoes for her and a birthday present for her baby cousin, both of which were fruitless ventures. I know anyone reading this probably gets sick of me talking about how much things cost here, but let me assure you, it’s not nearly as aggravating as actually having to deal with it on a daily basis! Out of curiosity, I jotted down some Toys R’ Us prices here, and compared them to Toys R’ Us back in the States… A $15 toy in the US costs about $60 here. So poor Dags didn’t get any new shoes, and her poor cousin still does not have a birthday present.

We spent a long time in Bookaburra, a very cool kids bookstore. We sat in a corner and read all the totally captivating books that are covered in sparkles, have purse handles sprouting out of them, and smell like peppermint candies. Then we put them back on the shelves, and I bought Dags a few ratty books out of the Used Book bin in the back of the store. She didn’t seem to mind.

After the mall, we pigged out on ice cream and other not-so-healthy foods. Then we went to the grand opening of Garrett's, a gourmet popcorn stand. Now, let me tell you, Dagny and I are popcorn FREAKS! We raced each other to the bottom of a bag of warm cheddar and caramel corn, which stained the underside of my fingernails orange for the next two days. Ahhh, heaven.

On our way home, we popped into Peekaboo, which is an indoor climbing gym and play area for kiddos. After two hours of crawling around in plastic tunnels, riding down spinny slides and wading through colorful ball pits (with a stomach full of energy-less, fatty-fat food, mind you), we were finally spent, and headed home. I had a salad and water for dinner that night.

Climbing through Peekaboo.

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your... oh wait, sorry Dags, you don't really have any hair yet."

Okay, so let’s hit the rewind button to another Adventure Wednesday, from a couple of weeks ago…

The Buddha Relic Temple and Museum! Now for some reason, my guidebooks don’t give this place very many stars, and I don’t understand why. Dagny and I LOVED it!

The temple is located in Chinatown, and is impressively tall and expansive. 

Hanging lanterns and strings of bells that sound so beautiful when the wind blows.

A giant and ornately designed "cauldron" (I'm sure it's actually called something else) outside the main entrance. Those are joss sticks burning, in groups of 3 (one for earth, one for heaven, one for mankind). If a loved one has recently passed away, you may only see two joss sticks. Some temples have strict rules against this, and state that 3 must be burned at a time, though I'm not entirely sure why. 

The doorway into the temple. A lot of temples and Asian houses have a raised doorstep like this. Even most apartments around here have a small lip to step over upon entering... From what I've been told, it has to do with a superstitious belief that a person's foot should completely clear the threshold upon entering a house. 

Prayer service (again, I probably have the appropriate name for it wrong) was going on when we entered. The temple was gorgeous inside, as you can see. Very colorful. Monks were seated at the tables, their heads bent over books while they chanted and hummed into microphones. Buddhist followers were seated in rows of chairs along the side, occasionally chanting along in the same way Christians sing refrains during church services. The chanting is so amazing... very deep, monotone, and relaxing.

An entire wall of small alcoves filled with different statues of Buddha lined one side of the temple. I liked this one, with the flower.

I mean, seriously, who could possibly walk into a place like this and not be wonderfully overcome by the beauty of it?

After staying a while to watch the prayer chants in the main temple (Dagny was totally enthralled, and very well-behaved through it all), we headed upstairs, into the museum. Again, Dagny did great, but I had to keep us moving (as anyone with a toddler understands). So I unfortunately didn't get to read very much about the items on display, nor discover in too much detail how Buddha came to achieve Nibbana (also called Nirvana, in other parts of the world). Maybe another day, sans Dagny, since the museum did have a pretty cool layout for visitors to "wander in the same steps" as Buddha once did.

There are days I wish I had this many arms.

There were literally hundreds of statues of Buddha throughout the museum, which covered three floors, all situated above the temple. Who knows... there might have even been thousands, of all different sizes and appearances. But this one was my favorite.

At the end of the museum tour, we finally got to see what we'd come all that way to see... not that the prayer chants and endless Buddhas weren't spectacular enough, but Dags and I wanted to see the Buddha Relics. 

Yes, it is claimed that actual relics from the living Buddha are housed here. Now, I unfortunately have no pictures to share from this room, because photography was strictly prohibited. So you'll have to just take my word for it when I say: It was incredibly cool to see, and a little bit odd.

All along the walls, behind a thick pane of glass, were very ornate vessels, sculpted from gold and covered in a variety of precious and semi-precious stones. In the center of each was a (usually) teardrop-shaped piece of glass, about the size of the palm of my hand. And inside the teardrop were remains of everything from Buddha's teeth and bones to pieces of his brain and internal organs. I can honestly say they did not look anything like what I imagined... some looked like grains of sand, while several others looked like clear glycerin beads. Buddha's blood looked like tiny yellowish marbles, and his brain looked like small pearls. If there was an explanation for where the relics were found, or how they came to be in these vessels inside this temple, I couldn't find it. But then again, the basis of all religions is faith, is it not? Maybe there isn't supposed to be a thorough explanation... Maybe part of finding Nibbana is realizing some questions are not meant to be answered, and the swiftest path to happiness is to just believe.

On our way out of the museum, Dagny seemed particularly enthralled by a semi-large statue that smiled down on her, one hand raised as if saying hello while the other cupped a lotus flower. She looked at it with a very intense look on her face, and finally pointed to it, saying, "Dat? Dat? Dat?"

"That's Buddha," I replied.

And she smiled so big the corners of her mouth nearly touched her ears, and then she combination giggled and screamed, "Boo-dahh!" 

I was shocked. The only words she'd spoken up until then were Mama and Dada. Word number 3: Buddha. I laughed when she said it, and as we got on the elevator to go back downstairs, I told her, "I think your grandparents would probably have preferred 'Jesus!', but whatever, we'll go with Buddha." 

Enjoying a Splat (fruit pouch) after our tour through the temple and museum. 

So where would you rather go, and who would you rather meet? Wonka or Buddha? My suggestion: Visit them both. How often, as busy adults, do we take the time to go either place? ... To look at the broader, more universal picture of life and our fleeting path through it ... Or to go the opposite direction, thinking only for the moment, only about fun and immediate gratification, and living like a kid again?

Yes, definitely, definitely take time to do both.

Adventure Wednesdays!

I’ll admit, sometimes I need a little motivation when it comes to living out my dream of being a dedicated adventurer. Every day I walk great distances in even greater heat and humidity, navigate crowded trains, and am forced to assimilate to Asian culture when, to be quite honest, I sometimes just don’t want to (I mean, seriously, what red-blooded American mom wouldn't occasionally become frustrated by a grocery store's lack of macaroni and cheese and applesauce, but over abundance of prawn crackers?). So, yes, there are times I don’t get wonderfully excited by the idea of exploring… of stepping even farther outside of my already teetering comfort zone.

But (please the excuse the analogy here, since it might sound kind of corny), I’ve found that learning to live abroad is a lot like learning to mountain bike. When I first started mountain biking, I was terrified. I fell a lot, and the more I fell, the slower I tended to ride. For some reason, the more cautiously I rode, the more I fell. It was a vicious cycle (no pun intended). Eventually, I avoided any trails that had rocks and roots on them… which kind of defeats the purpose of mountain biking. But then I learned that the faster I rode, the better I did. If I took the obstacles head on and pedaled hard as I approached them (rather than riding my brakes), I remained upright on my bike and—wow!—discovered that mountain biking was actually pretty darn fun! Are the trails still scary at times? Yes. But now they’re navigable.

The more time I spend in Singapore, the more I realize this same basic principle applies to life abroad: Fight your initial urge to slow down, and instead take a swift and direct path straight into your new surroundings. And go figure, the more I do it, the more comfortable I become with life here. Is it still scary and frustrating at times? Heavens, yes. But it all becomes increasingly more navigable.

So, to overcome my days of trepidation, a couple of months ago I initiated “Adventure Wednesdays.” Every Wednesday (NO EXCUSES!), Dagny and I head out to explore a new part of the island. Sometimes I have our adventures planned out days in advance. Other times, I pull out my Singapore guidebooks over a Wednesday morning coffee, while Dagny slurps soggy Cheerios beside me, and make a split-second decision as to where we will be heading that day.

Heading out on a Wednesday morning train. I took this picture because I thought it was kind of funny how everyone in my train car was tuned into their phones or iPods at the same time. Very little talking on the trains here... except Dagny. She makes sure everyone knows she's aboard.

Some Wednesdays, I’ll admit, are pretty low key. I’m not entirely sure the actual destinations would even count as “Adventures,” but anyone who knows how directionally inept I am will probably nod their heads in understanding when I say the journeys to the different locations are certainly adventurous enough.

An example of a low key adventure: On exceptionally hot days, Dags and I sometimes set out to find cool new splash pads and fountains to play in. These are quite possibly a mom’s best friend. Unlike a pool or playground, I don’t have to constantly waddle, climb, swim, or scurry after Dagny. There are no intimidating metal ladders or scary deep ends to worry about, which of course are two things my daughter is helplessly drawn to.

We found this fountain over in Marina Barrage a couple of Wednesdays ago…

Dagny with her friends Camden and Marrietta. Dags is the one in the sombrero.

I can only imagine what Dagny was babbling about to Camden... "You think peas are bad, my mom tried to get me to eat crawfish the other day. I was like, Mom, you must be crazy!"

Some Adventure Wednesdays turn out to be total busts, though this has fortunately been a rare occurrence. For instance, I read about Malay Village and their expansive fish market in one of my guidebooks. The write-up touted it as a great place to check out truly authentic, Singaporean culture. Well, when I got there, the fish market was shut down, and Malay Village didn’t appear to be doing too well. Most of the storefronts were boarded up, and the few people who were there stared at Dagny and I with looks of confusion—and more than one or two frowns. I could tell the shopping district used to be quaint and picturesque, but now it looks (and smells) a little more like a shantytown. The paint was peeling off the buildings, sections of wrought iron fence were propped toward the sidewalk at menacing angles, and the alleys were full of headless manikins. Kinda creepy. Needless to say, we didn’t stay long.

Malay Village. Probably won't be heading back anytime soon.

Another Wednesday, Dags and I ventured into Little India, which, as it turns out, is not so little. Disembarking the train, I really did feel like I was entering India, sans the immobilizing crowds (or what I suppose India is like, from listening to Brad’s stories and watching episodes of Outsourced). The buildings were painted in a rainbow of vibrant colors. Shop doors were standing wide open, and racks of beautiful saris and beaded purses covered the sidewalks out front. There was barely enough room for me to eek through even without my monstrous BOB stroller, so most of the time Dagny and I had to walk in the street.

Colorful buildings. This was the less populated part of Little India. 

Each of the stores sold very similar items—a lot of statues of Indian gods and bins full of colorful wrist bangles. And everywhere I went, I heard Indian music. What fun! Not many of my adventures come with an upbeat soundtrack playing in the background. Makes me feel like I’m in a movie or something. And I’ll tell you what, it’s next to impossible not to kind of dip and shimmy as you walk when Indian music is blaring up and down the street.

This really isn't a very good picture of the stores, but I'm including it anyway. The narrow side streets with shops and vendor carts were much cooler, but they were also full of delivery trucks at this time of day, so I couldn't seem to get any good pictures of them, either.

I think one of the things I was most impressed with was the number of different restaurants I saw. Back in the US, an Indian restaurant is usually just labeled as “Indian.” But in Little India, my options were much more specific… Northern Indian, Nepalese, Tibetan, Bengali, Punjabi… the list goes on.

Dagny and I planned a visit to the Hindu temple Sri Veeramakaliamman (Yep! I told you I would make it there! Now say the name ten times fast). I’ve attached a picture of the front because my written description would fall way short. It’s pretty spectacular.

But the sidewalk was as far as we got on our expedition. It turns out I wasn’t appropriately dressed to go inside. No, I wasn’t wearing a bikini top or a t-shirt that read “Jesus Rocks”—it was simply a sleeveless shirt. We’ll make it back one day, with more pictures to share and hopefully an interesting story or two, so if you can’t say Sri Veeramakaliamman yet, don’t worry… you still have a little time to practice.

Before leaving Little India, I stopped by a henna stand. I thought the result was artful and kind of cool… for a few hours. The ink lasts for about a week, and every day of that week I kept thinking I had something like mud (or overflow from a baby diaper) on the back of my hand.

It was a wonderful day, and I look forward to going back, hopefully with Brad this time!

Dags at the end of our Little India trip.

I actually have another Adventure Wednesday to write about, but I’m beginning to see that this entry is already getting a bit lengthy. Come back in another day or two to hear all about Dagny’s first word (aside from Mama and Dada) and to find out what Buddha’s brain looks like.

Yep… that’s right… Buddha’s brain. For real. Can’t wait! 

Festivals

There are so many things to love about a country that officially (and equally) recognizes the world’s four major religions. My favorite aspect is that there always seems to be a festival somewhere on the island to attend!

First, I got to experience Hari Raya, which celebrates the end of Ramadan. I unfortunately don’t have any pictures to share from the event, which is really too bad because some of the clothing I saw was absolutely gorgeous—kind of makes me wish Christians celebrated holidays in more festive clothes! I was told the best place to go was Geylang, which is a part of Singapore I hadn’t been to yet, so I was pretty eager to check it out.

The crowds were thick. Beyond thick. I had even more trouble than usual navigating Dagny’s stroller… and it wasn’t just the thousands of people that made it difficult, but the stages, food stands, and vendor carts that covered the sidewalks and spilled into the streets.

Most of the festivities had actually died down by the time I got there (they started sometime during the night), but I was still surprised to see so many people out and about, looking both happy and sleepy. Dagny and I received a lot of stares… we were the only Caucasians I spotted in Geylang all afternoon. Which is why I didn’t take any pictures. I love getting to be a part of different religions for a day, and as much as I want to catalog what I see with my camera, I don’t want anyone from that particular faith or nationality to think I’m taking pictures because I think their way of life is bazaar. Hopefully that makes sense.

Anyway, everyone was wonderfully pleasant and loved Dagny—especially the young Muslim men, which surprised me since I don’t know too many guys in their late teens or early twenties back home who would make such a huge fuss over a toddler.

I stuck around Hari Raya only for a couple of hours, until I got sick of lugging the stroller up and down stairs and in and out of careening traffic. I’m glad I got to see a small slice of Muslim life, though!

For the past couple of weeks, Singapore has been celebrating its Mid-Autumn Festival (also known as the Moon Festival). It’s a popular lunar harvest festival celebrated by the Chinese.

To kick off the celebrations, I bought a pack of moon cakes—the official food of the Mid-Autumn Festival. I had a choice of either red bean or jade (there are many more flavors to choose from, but the stand I went to only had these two on hand). Red beans here aren’t like red beans back in the States… they’re sweet. But I was more interested to know what jade tasted like. The reason is kind of funny: when I was a kid, my mom had a jade plant that I was obsessed with. When she wasn’t looking, I would occasionally pluck one of the plump leaves (sorry, Mom) and take it to my “sidewalk apothecary,” where I would mix it into concoctions with dandelion milk and smashed crabapples. I wasn’t dumb enough to ever taste what I made, but seeing that people actually do eat jade plants here made me very, very curious!

A picture of my jade moon cakes. While I was chewing it, I thought it was so-so. Then the aftertaste kicked in... it just kept filling my mouth with more and more pungency. I guess jade's not really for me.

Next up for the Mid-Autumn Festival was attending the Lantern Festivals in Clarke Quay and Chinatown. Both were very different, and tons of fun. First was Clarke Quay… I used to wonder why “happy hour” drink specials were so early, and subsequently who in the world ever went out for drinks and dinner while it was still light out. Now I know. It’s people with toddlers, and yes, we absolutely deserve a deal on drinks by five o’clock in the evening. So while Brad and I enjoyed “happy hour” wine at the Vintry (al fresco, of course), Dagny played in the splash fountains right beside us. It was fantastic! A built-in aquatic babysitter so mom and dad could actually relax and talk for a little bit. And I’m beginning to think Dagny remembers Roxy more clearly than I probably give her credit for… she loves chasing after balls we throw into the fountains for her, and carries them back to us in her mouth. We always make sure to rub her tummy and toss her a treat!

Bridge in Clarke Quay decorated for the festival.

Lanterns by day. Very detailed!

One of the food stands set up along the river.

We ate on the go, sampling Mongolian, Hokkien, and Taiwanese food at different vendor stands set up along the river. And I had a blast buying trinkety stuff for my nieces and nephews. When darkness finally fell, we watched all the lanterns blaze to life, and it was truly remarkable!

This lantern received first prize in a contest. I was clapping and cheering because it was made with Coke cans, and my family has a long history in the Coca-Cola business!

Second place lantern. Also very cool.

Lanterns by night.

A couple of cute kids who wandered into my picture.

I'm impressed.

All up and down the river are lighted floats. Now I know where the term "parade float" comes from!

 

Dagny was handed a balloon with an LED light in it. That kept her entertained for the evening!

This year is the Year of the Rabbit. Next year: The Dragon!

The only picture of Brad and I from the evening. We didn't realize until we got home that it looks like we're entering the Inferno... oh well.

I commented to Brad, "It looks like we're entering the tunnel of love!" And not two seconds later, some guy comes up to Dagny and plants a huge kiss on her mouth—a grown man, not another cute little toddler. I thought Brad was going to deck the guy.

I've seen this guy a few times around Singapore now! He dances to drum music and swings these ropes of wooden beads around his body... some of them are close to 15-feet long!

The Chinatown Lantern Festival was a lot more crowded… or maybe it just felt that way since the streets are so narrow. I bought some more fun and funky Asian stuff for the nieces and nephews while one Chinese person after the next stopped to have their picture taken with Dagny. She attracted even more attention than usual that night… I bought her some new sandals at Carrefour that afternoon, and didn’t realize until we got to Chinatown and she jumped out of her stroller that they squeak like puppy chew toys when she walks. And boy, do they squeak loud. And boy, does she LOVE it! Bounce, bounce, bounce… squeak, squeak, squeak. While everyone else was laughing, I was digging in my purse for some Advil.

Entering Chinatown off the MRT. I felt like I was entering Disney World!

These lanterns were all painted by local school children.

Again, we went to the festival early, and left right after the lanterns were lit, when the sidewalks became almost too jammed to move. The food there was amazing! I absolutely DEVOURED a plate of Singapore street noodles, also called kway teow. 

Kway teow.

Singapore's own Tiger Beer. It's actually pretty cheap in Chinatown!

Dags hanging out with the hostess. There are ENORMOUS live black crabs in those cages behind her. Not pictured: aquariums of live bullfrogs, bigger than Brad's hand... choose your own and they'll prepare it for you.

The kway teow was some of the best Asian food I’ve had yet… though it’s difficult to really say for sure, since I’ve tried a lot of wonderful stuff that can’t necessarily be compared. Like last weekend, I went to Newton Hawker Center and made an absolute pig of myself on barbeque stingray (gotta watch out for an abundant amount of cartilage when eating these), mammoth crayfish and even bigger garlic prawns (literally the size of lobsters!), an entire plate of carrot cake (which is like a casserole and, funny enough, has NO carrots in it… it’s made with fried radishes and rice), steamed kai lan in sambol chile (very spicy, a little like spinach in texture and taste… and yes, Brad and I had a good laugh over the fact that we were eating “Kai Lan,” Dagny’s favorite Asian cartoon character), and finished it all off with a bowl of shaved ice topped with black jelly (looks like licorice Jell-O, but doesn’t taste like much of anything… just really sweet) and a kind of palm fruit (about the size of a grape, all white, also sweet… if you have issues with texture, you might want to avoid this one… kind of like trying to eat an eyeball, though much more delicious). So that was a bit of a sidetrack there, basically just to point out that there are A LOT of different things to try here, and most of them are fantastic.

Up next (and hopefully in just a few days, if I find the time): Dagny's and my ADVENTURE WEDNESDAYS!!!