After such a dreadfully boring post, I've decided to offer you all something more interesting. It's borrowed, but you might enjoy reading this blog. Our friends Christine and Jerry adopted a baby boy from China earlier this year. Christine detailed the trip to China here:
http://nihaohon.blogspot.com/
Friday, June 4, 2010
Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want
Maybe we weren't quite as wide-eyed and willing to be challenged once we moved to Singapore as we were when we first moved to Hong Kong. I'm not sure. I just know that there seemed to be an endless path of obstacles to settling in here. In fact, I still don't have a PIN for my ATM card, as one example. Everything we attempted was like one step forward, two steps back because each thing hinged on something else: opening a bank account, paying bills, opening other accounts. I know I shouldn't complain, really. I do have all day to solve problems, but I felt so frustrated at the end of every day when none of the attempts got us anywhere. I was at a point where I was hoping for not even a good week but simply a week where everything wasn't so difficult. I'm filled with excuses for not writing, but this is probably why I hid from it for so long.
Now that the dust is starting to settle (really, I gotta dust), I can recap less grimly because I'm mostly over it. I know Hong Kong wasn't without transition difficulties and it may be too rosy a memory, but I swear it was easier to move from the US to HK than from HK to Singapore in some aspects. Some things were easier this time, like deciding what to bring (everything), filing familiar paperwork, not having to sell cars, not wondering what it's like to live in Asia.
I have not forgotten how desperate I was for weeks in Hong Kong when we moved into J Residence and couldn't get an internet service provider. One major difference this time is that just before we left HK we bought a laptop (Macbook of course). What a difference. While in hotel and temporary residence, no problem. But again, once we moved into this apartment the trouble started and I was consumed for hours a day by trying to correct it. Worse yet, much of the trouble needn't have happened.
The Icon provides free wireless internet access throughout the building. Great, we thought, we might not have to pay for service, as long as we found the speed acceptable. We got a connection on the laptop but not on the desktop computer. After a couple of days of trying countless fixes, I went to the management office and inquired. I should have done so earlier. I was told I should use a router to connect and I would find a network name listed that would include my location like T2L22, as in tower 2, unit 22. I thought, aha, I don't have a strong enough signal because I'm not using a router. So I bought one but the signal was still so weak it was often non-functional. I visited the office again and they sent up 3 "IT" guys to help. I knew it was a bad sign when one said he'd never seen a Mac before. I asked why I didn't see the network name I was told to look for, T2-blahblah, and after some dancing around they told me that was incorrect information. Basically, they were making up answers. They knew less than I did and their answer was essentially that I should pay for a service. I just didn't want to surrender before I knew I had done everything right. Hours and hours more investigating. I'm up on a lot of tech-speak again.
I concluded there was no malfunction but the connection was just not fast or reliable enough so we planned to sign up for a service subscription. Paul had to leave work early to meet me at the shop (because he had to open the account because he has an employment pass and I don't... see what I mean here...) About an hour before, I found a box in a cabinet above the refrigerator containing a router labeled T2L22. Plugged it in; it worked; I cursed. We went ahead and paid for service anyway because it's still unreliable sharing a public connection, especially during after-work hours when everyone's home web surfing. But I didn't necessarily need to buy my own router, though it is more technologically current. The worst part was wasting about two weeks struggling.
Then there was banking. We opened a Citibank account. The woman who helped us typed so poorly that she had us write all our information in the standard application forms and didn't finish entering it until about nine hours after we left her. We had asked if we could open a multi-currency account and she said we'd have to open separate accounts for each currency, so we opened a Singapore Dollar account. Of course, some days later I saw a brochure detailing Citibank's multi-currency account option. Should have known how things would progress from there.
In Hong Kong, we still had money at HSBC. The way to wire the money from HSBC to Citibank is to go into HSBC and request it. Not an HSBC in Singapore but the HSBC in Hong Kong. Yep. So we had to fill out a request form and mail it to HSBC in Hong Kong and wait and see if the money appeared at Citibank. Thankfully, it did.
...But we couldn't access it. We used Paul's work address when we opened the account here so everything addressed to me got lost because I don't work there, including the checks with both our names on them. And yes, even though it's a joint account, they send everything separately. Paul received his ATM card and PIN so he could withdraw cash, but a situation arose when time came to pay rent. The real estate agent/relocation gang forgot to give us the landlord's payment details so when I realized this as the rent was due, they asked us to make an online bank transfer so it would be on time. This is when we learned that we couldn't access anything online because they send a one-time text message to your mobile phone with an additional PIN. But we didn't have local numbers when we opened the account so they took Paul's HK number and added a Singapore area code to it. Needless to say, he never received the message at this non-existent number. They wouldn't update the contact number to the local number I then had unless we went into the bank, filled out a change form and waited to receive the online banking PIN in the mail.
The landlord's agent threw a minor hissy fit that the rent might be a day late, so Paul ended up going to Citibank, withdrawing cash from the ATM and walking over to the landlord's bank and depositing cash into his account. We've since gone into Citibank to set up automatic bill payments, including rent. In the meantime, after having gone into the bank a month ago and spending 30 minutes filling out update forms, my address still has not been updated, therefore no PINS for me. Paul, on the other hand, has received a good three notices saying they've updated his address.
Back in Hong Kong accounts, I believe we need to have a child (a son probably preferred) so that we can offer the customer service reps this child and perhaps persuade them in finally letting us go. For internet service, Paul got the runaround before leaving Hong Kong and we had to leave the modems with my friend Maggie to return for us because they wouldn't just end the service. We only had a month left on the subscription so we let it run out and then he called from here and it was a bit simpler. However we are still receiving phone bills. When Paul tried twice to cancel, they said they had to call him back each time - on a Hong Kong number. We're just not paying the bills. I don't have a phone contract here so I can eventually leave the country without bills trailing. I read about a plan from a particular phone company that would work well for me, though I did have to go to three of their shops to find someone who knew how to set it up.
I gotta admit, I've gone to bed grumpy many a day here in sunny Singapore. Sorry, this was really boring. Some people pay therapists. This is what do. I owe my readers some sort of payment after this post. Oh, sorry. I still can't get to the money.
Now that the dust is starting to settle (really, I gotta dust), I can recap less grimly because I'm mostly over it. I know Hong Kong wasn't without transition difficulties and it may be too rosy a memory, but I swear it was easier to move from the US to HK than from HK to Singapore in some aspects. Some things were easier this time, like deciding what to bring (everything), filing familiar paperwork, not having to sell cars, not wondering what it's like to live in Asia.
I have not forgotten how desperate I was for weeks in Hong Kong when we moved into J Residence and couldn't get an internet service provider. One major difference this time is that just before we left HK we bought a laptop (Macbook of course). What a difference. While in hotel and temporary residence, no problem. But again, once we moved into this apartment the trouble started and I was consumed for hours a day by trying to correct it. Worse yet, much of the trouble needn't have happened.
The Icon provides free wireless internet access throughout the building. Great, we thought, we might not have to pay for service, as long as we found the speed acceptable. We got a connection on the laptop but not on the desktop computer. After a couple of days of trying countless fixes, I went to the management office and inquired. I should have done so earlier. I was told I should use a router to connect and I would find a network name listed that would include my location like T2L22, as in tower 2, unit 22. I thought, aha, I don't have a strong enough signal because I'm not using a router. So I bought one but the signal was still so weak it was often non-functional. I visited the office again and they sent up 3 "IT" guys to help. I knew it was a bad sign when one said he'd never seen a Mac before. I asked why I didn't see the network name I was told to look for, T2-blahblah, and after some dancing around they told me that was incorrect information. Basically, they were making up answers. They knew less than I did and their answer was essentially that I should pay for a service. I just didn't want to surrender before I knew I had done everything right. Hours and hours more investigating. I'm up on a lot of tech-speak again.
I concluded there was no malfunction but the connection was just not fast or reliable enough so we planned to sign up for a service subscription. Paul had to leave work early to meet me at the shop (because he had to open the account because he has an employment pass and I don't... see what I mean here...) About an hour before, I found a box in a cabinet above the refrigerator containing a router labeled T2L22. Plugged it in; it worked; I cursed. We went ahead and paid for service anyway because it's still unreliable sharing a public connection, especially during after-work hours when everyone's home web surfing. But I didn't necessarily need to buy my own router, though it is more technologically current. The worst part was wasting about two weeks struggling.
Then there was banking. We opened a Citibank account. The woman who helped us typed so poorly that she had us write all our information in the standard application forms and didn't finish entering it until about nine hours after we left her. We had asked if we could open a multi-currency account and she said we'd have to open separate accounts for each currency, so we opened a Singapore Dollar account. Of course, some days later I saw a brochure detailing Citibank's multi-currency account option. Should have known how things would progress from there.
In Hong Kong, we still had money at HSBC. The way to wire the money from HSBC to Citibank is to go into HSBC and request it. Not an HSBC in Singapore but the HSBC in Hong Kong. Yep. So we had to fill out a request form and mail it to HSBC in Hong Kong and wait and see if the money appeared at Citibank. Thankfully, it did.
...But we couldn't access it. We used Paul's work address when we opened the account here so everything addressed to me got lost because I don't work there, including the checks with both our names on them. And yes, even though it's a joint account, they send everything separately. Paul received his ATM card and PIN so he could withdraw cash, but a situation arose when time came to pay rent. The real estate agent/relocation gang forgot to give us the landlord's payment details so when I realized this as the rent was due, they asked us to make an online bank transfer so it would be on time. This is when we learned that we couldn't access anything online because they send a one-time text message to your mobile phone with an additional PIN. But we didn't have local numbers when we opened the account so they took Paul's HK number and added a Singapore area code to it. Needless to say, he never received the message at this non-existent number. They wouldn't update the contact number to the local number I then had unless we went into the bank, filled out a change form and waited to receive the online banking PIN in the mail.
The landlord's agent threw a minor hissy fit that the rent might be a day late, so Paul ended up going to Citibank, withdrawing cash from the ATM and walking over to the landlord's bank and depositing cash into his account. We've since gone into Citibank to set up automatic bill payments, including rent. In the meantime, after having gone into the bank a month ago and spending 30 minutes filling out update forms, my address still has not been updated, therefore no PINS for me. Paul, on the other hand, has received a good three notices saying they've updated his address.
Back in Hong Kong accounts, I believe we need to have a child (a son probably preferred) so that we can offer the customer service reps this child and perhaps persuade them in finally letting us go. For internet service, Paul got the runaround before leaving Hong Kong and we had to leave the modems with my friend Maggie to return for us because they wouldn't just end the service. We only had a month left on the subscription so we let it run out and then he called from here and it was a bit simpler. However we are still receiving phone bills. When Paul tried twice to cancel, they said they had to call him back each time - on a Hong Kong number. We're just not paying the bills. I don't have a phone contract here so I can eventually leave the country without bills trailing. I read about a plan from a particular phone company that would work well for me, though I did have to go to three of their shops to find someone who knew how to set it up.
I gotta admit, I've gone to bed grumpy many a day here in sunny Singapore. Sorry, this was really boring. Some people pay therapists. This is what do. I owe my readers some sort of payment after this post. Oh, sorry. I still can't get to the money.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Movin' On Up
I'll start with the Ladies with L's. The relocation assistant we first met on our February visit to Singapore was named Liz. The real estate agent we first had then was named Lilian. When we moved here, we wanted to start looking for an apartment right away and Lilian - luckily - was not available those first days. I say luckily since she was a key player in the mishandling of the first offer we made and lost. So we were assigned a second agent, Leanne. Our relocation coordinator overseeing the whole process was named Lauren. And the person who surveyed the apartment when we finally moved in was named Liz. At first I couldn't understand why Paul confused the names of everyone we were dealing with, and eventually I realized that we were dealing with five women whose names started with L, two named Liz. (He managed to keep my name straight through most of it.)
Fortunately, Leanne turned out to be a more effective agent than Lilian and I requested that we stick with her. We determined some facts from our first visit: we wanted to be centrally located, near transportation; we wanted to see more units in the building we originally chose and missed out on, River Place; we also wanted to see one other particular building that Lilian had mentioned but didn't show us, The Icon. It was in an area we were interested in, but she had said it was more than our budget (when does that stop real estate agents from showing people places?) When I inquired about it while she was driving us around, she said it was a "yuppie" building with many young couples without children, as if this was a description that we'd find unappealing. I remember looking between Paul and me in the car to see if there were some kids we had that I didn't know about and wondering how this Lilian could be successful in real estate.
Anyhow, once Leanne was assigned as our agent, we made the above requests, so on the first day, I saw exactly what was requested and nothing more. As it turned out, there were no units available in River Place so all I saw were three units in The Icon. It wasn't Leann's fault; that's what Lauren told her I wanted. Of course there was a confused conversation when I asked what else I could see the next day but it was eventually clarified that I wanted those places included in the viewing list, not that I wanted to see those places exclusively. Exasperating.
One of the three units I saw in The Icon stood out as a strong contender. I saw several more places the next day, but we also scheduled a revisit of The Icon with Paul. He agreed it was a winner and we moved quickly this time, letting go the hope of River Place. The owner lives abroad so we dealt with his agent. It seemed that in the negotiations, if you can call them such, the landlord demanded more than we did and unless we wanted to search for a third time, we had to give in to the ridiculous little demands. The stand-out one was that we would not put any nails into the walls because he didn't want to have to repaint when we move out. Just use 3M picture hangers, we were told. I mention this detail because it leads to minor disaster and heartbreak which will be shared in a separate post.
One demand we did submit was honored, probably because it's a worthwhile investment on the owner's part. When I first saw the place I liked everything about it except one glaring, clear fact: the glaring, clear glass walls enclosing the master bathroom. I can't imagine why anyone would think this is an architectural option. The bathroom is connected to the master bedroom and shares a wall with the wardrobe. All the walls of the wardrobe and the main wall of the bathroom are all clear glass. I told Leanne that Paul and I are close, but not that close. Amused, she said the glass could easily be covered with an opaque film. It was done before we moved in. -We occasionally get mail addressed to the former occupants, a Norwegian couple. Apparently the Norwegians live in a more open society.
Our new home... we moved in on Monday, April 5, three weeks after arriving. It's a fairly new building, about 2-3 years old. We're on the 38th floor out of something like 45. We have a water view, which translates to looking out onto thousands of shipping containers. There is a sprawling pool on the 7th floor and it's completely usable, unlike the pool in J Residence with its odd layout with room for only eight people to sit and the shower you had to walk through on your way in and out. It's also free unlike the pool at J Residence. When we started apartment hunting and asked if there were charges to use the pool, I think the agent thought the question a little crazy. (The majority of places I viewed had big, inviting pools. It seems more like a priority here than an impractical addition like the one we had in Hong Kong, probably because it's hot all year.) There is also a whole floor, the 31st, with gardens and terraces and seating areas. We don't have our own balcony this time, so this is an attractive feature.
Our unit is two bedrooms, still considered small by many standards, but compared to our place in Hong Kong, it's huge. There is a closet in each bedroom. There's also a big storage room they call a bomb shelter here. I can't figure out if it's actually a bomb shelter, and if it is, what does the Singapore government know that I don't? Or it could be maid's quarters which are typically disturbingly small. Or it's just a storage room with a creative name; it does have a steel door though. Two bathrooms (one with real walls). A real kitchen! It has a full size refrigerator, an oven, a washer AND a drier! It's a full size Bosch drier that works better than my old drier back in Fords. Did I mention there's an oven? And a gas stove burner? The kitchen is separate yet still very open to the living room. I really like it. Oh, the best part - there's a trash chute! I honestly grinned and giggled the first time I threw a bag down and listened to it fall 38 stories, the sound fading with each passing floor as if a cartoon coyote fell off a cliff.
The Icon is located at the edge of Chinatown, steps away from an MRT (train) station. It's two stops/about 20 minutes to work for Paul. I have a basic supermarket in walking distance, though as in Hong Kong, I need to go to 2-3 stores to get all the things I want. There are shops and restaurants on the ground floor of our building including 3 sushi restaurants, 2 coffee shops, key maker, shoe repair, dry-cleaner, cake shop, wine ship, 7-11, and most recently and most appreciated, Quizno's. There are signs for an Argentinean restaurant coming soon but I'm not sure I believe it. Nearby there are mostly office buildings so the streets are busy during lunch and rush hours.
There are lots of Singapore style food stalls around, but try as I might, I can't get excited about fatty meats or mystery fish covered in sauce served with rice. There's little variation on this theme, stall after stall. There is a well-known food center a few minutes away that Anthony Bourdain supposedly visited. Maybe I'll try the popular chicken/rice dish one day, but Quizno's is right downstairs and I don't have to spit bones out of the sandwich. There is also a surprising number of Italian restaurants in the area. And a couple we've tried were actually pretty good, though we haven't found a pizza more than acceptable within walking distance yet.
There are lots of other bars and restaurants nearby, but the bars closest to us are a bit of a letdown. They're either cheesy local Karaoke bars or ones with darkened glass fronts that prevent you from seeing in, which in Asia, means you can probably pay for more than a beer inside. Soooo, we skip those. There's a really nice Irish bar that we tried once and we were the only ones in it on a Saturday night. I think because The Icon is the only high rise apartment, besides three nearby towers of more typical government housing, and it's in what is essentially a business district, Saturday nights are disappointingly quiet in the neighborhood. When I first walked around, it appeared that there was more on offer because it was hard to tell what opened when. Some places are closed on weekends; some open only for lunch; others only open for dinner. You have to walk around at different hours of the day on different days of the week to figure out what's available. Note: Quizno's is closed on Sunday.
It's more of a local area with a sizable Chinese population and businesses that cater to local tastes. It's no Wan Chai, but we like it, and part of the fun is searching for hidden gems.
Fortunately, Leanne turned out to be a more effective agent than Lilian and I requested that we stick with her. We determined some facts from our first visit: we wanted to be centrally located, near transportation; we wanted to see more units in the building we originally chose and missed out on, River Place; we also wanted to see one other particular building that Lilian had mentioned but didn't show us, The Icon. It was in an area we were interested in, but she had said it was more than our budget (when does that stop real estate agents from showing people places?) When I inquired about it while she was driving us around, she said it was a "yuppie" building with many young couples without children, as if this was a description that we'd find unappealing. I remember looking between Paul and me in the car to see if there were some kids we had that I didn't know about and wondering how this Lilian could be successful in real estate.
Anyhow, once Leanne was assigned as our agent, we made the above requests, so on the first day, I saw exactly what was requested and nothing more. As it turned out, there were no units available in River Place so all I saw were three units in The Icon. It wasn't Leann's fault; that's what Lauren told her I wanted. Of course there was a confused conversation when I asked what else I could see the next day but it was eventually clarified that I wanted those places included in the viewing list, not that I wanted to see those places exclusively. Exasperating.
One of the three units I saw in The Icon stood out as a strong contender. I saw several more places the next day, but we also scheduled a revisit of The Icon with Paul. He agreed it was a winner and we moved quickly this time, letting go the hope of River Place. The owner lives abroad so we dealt with his agent. It seemed that in the negotiations, if you can call them such, the landlord demanded more than we did and unless we wanted to search for a third time, we had to give in to the ridiculous little demands. The stand-out one was that we would not put any nails into the walls because he didn't want to have to repaint when we move out. Just use 3M picture hangers, we were told. I mention this detail because it leads to minor disaster and heartbreak which will be shared in a separate post.
One demand we did submit was honored, probably because it's a worthwhile investment on the owner's part. When I first saw the place I liked everything about it except one glaring, clear fact: the glaring, clear glass walls enclosing the master bathroom. I can't imagine why anyone would think this is an architectural option. The bathroom is connected to the master bedroom and shares a wall with the wardrobe. All the walls of the wardrobe and the main wall of the bathroom are all clear glass. I told Leanne that Paul and I are close, but not that close. Amused, she said the glass could easily be covered with an opaque film. It was done before we moved in. -We occasionally get mail addressed to the former occupants, a Norwegian couple. Apparently the Norwegians live in a more open society.
Our new home... we moved in on Monday, April 5, three weeks after arriving. It's a fairly new building, about 2-3 years old. We're on the 38th floor out of something like 45. We have a water view, which translates to looking out onto thousands of shipping containers. There is a sprawling pool on the 7th floor and it's completely usable, unlike the pool in J Residence with its odd layout with room for only eight people to sit and the shower you had to walk through on your way in and out. It's also free unlike the pool at J Residence. When we started apartment hunting and asked if there were charges to use the pool, I think the agent thought the question a little crazy. (The majority of places I viewed had big, inviting pools. It seems more like a priority here than an impractical addition like the one we had in Hong Kong, probably because it's hot all year.) There is also a whole floor, the 31st, with gardens and terraces and seating areas. We don't have our own balcony this time, so this is an attractive feature.
Our unit is two bedrooms, still considered small by many standards, but compared to our place in Hong Kong, it's huge. There is a closet in each bedroom. There's also a big storage room they call a bomb shelter here. I can't figure out if it's actually a bomb shelter, and if it is, what does the Singapore government know that I don't? Or it could be maid's quarters which are typically disturbingly small. Or it's just a storage room with a creative name; it does have a steel door though. Two bathrooms (one with real walls). A real kitchen! It has a full size refrigerator, an oven, a washer AND a drier! It's a full size Bosch drier that works better than my old drier back in Fords. Did I mention there's an oven? And a gas stove burner? The kitchen is separate yet still very open to the living room. I really like it. Oh, the best part - there's a trash chute! I honestly grinned and giggled the first time I threw a bag down and listened to it fall 38 stories, the sound fading with each passing floor as if a cartoon coyote fell off a cliff.
The Icon is located at the edge of Chinatown, steps away from an MRT (train) station. It's two stops/about 20 minutes to work for Paul. I have a basic supermarket in walking distance, though as in Hong Kong, I need to go to 2-3 stores to get all the things I want. There are shops and restaurants on the ground floor of our building including 3 sushi restaurants, 2 coffee shops, key maker, shoe repair, dry-cleaner, cake shop, wine ship, 7-11, and most recently and most appreciated, Quizno's. There are signs for an Argentinean restaurant coming soon but I'm not sure I believe it. Nearby there are mostly office buildings so the streets are busy during lunch and rush hours.
There are lots of Singapore style food stalls around, but try as I might, I can't get excited about fatty meats or mystery fish covered in sauce served with rice. There's little variation on this theme, stall after stall. There is a well-known food center a few minutes away that Anthony Bourdain supposedly visited. Maybe I'll try the popular chicken/rice dish one day, but Quizno's is right downstairs and I don't have to spit bones out of the sandwich. There is also a surprising number of Italian restaurants in the area. And a couple we've tried were actually pretty good, though we haven't found a pizza more than acceptable within walking distance yet.
There are lots of other bars and restaurants nearby, but the bars closest to us are a bit of a letdown. They're either cheesy local Karaoke bars or ones with darkened glass fronts that prevent you from seeing in, which in Asia, means you can probably pay for more than a beer inside. Soooo, we skip those. There's a really nice Irish bar that we tried once and we were the only ones in it on a Saturday night. I think because The Icon is the only high rise apartment, besides three nearby towers of more typical government housing, and it's in what is essentially a business district, Saturday nights are disappointingly quiet in the neighborhood. When I first walked around, it appeared that there was more on offer because it was hard to tell what opened when. Some places are closed on weekends; some open only for lunch; others only open for dinner. You have to walk around at different hours of the day on different days of the week to figure out what's available. Note: Quizno's is closed on Sunday.
It's more of a local area with a sizable Chinese population and businesses that cater to local tastes. It's no Wan Chai, but we like it, and part of the fun is searching for hidden gems.
Liz #1 (leaning against the bomb shelter door) and part of the kitchen seen from the living room
Appliances! Oh, there's a fold out ironing board inside that top drawer - very cool
Clearly, the master bath and wardrobe - before the opaque addition
Some of the view
Part of the pool
Friday, May 14, 2010
Here I Go Again
Guess I'll have to get around to changing the Life in Hong Kong subtitle and picture. I'll add that to the list. First things first.
So, where have you been?
It's not as if Singapore is a giant black hole that sucked me into it, almost never to be heard from again - or is it? Some days, I wonder. We've been here almost two months and I'm forgetting all the details I would have written if I had written but they're starting to come back to me, and I probably haven't written because I've been distracted by the hassles of settling in and I would just be detailing my frustrations, which would be no fun to read. With a little time (or a lot) I can laugh about those frustrations. Really, I can. Haha. Ha.
I'll stick with chronology and start from the beginning - the end of Hong Kong. After all our things were packed we stayed for three nights at the Island Shangri-La Hotel which was quite lovely. It was about a 10-minute walk from our apartment and it made me feel better not to stay too far from "home" so I could kid myself that life in HK would go on as usual. But on Sunday morning there was in fact a plane waiting.
We arrived in Singapore late in the afternoon and checked into our serviced apartment, The Ascott. We had three choices of residence and I chose this place because it was closest to Paul's office, one train stop, and also because it was very close to an apartment building we had previously seen and were still considering. Soon after arrival we walked outside to find a bite to eat and the neighborhood was desolate. Picture tumbleweeds blowing by, but it's so humid here they would be palm fronds. We ate terrible food at Harry's, a chain pub that you can't walk two blocks without running into here, simply because it was open. The area around Raffles Place and The Ascott is part of the business district so I suppose it would be like trying to find life on a Sunday evening in NYC's Financial District. I'm happy that one decision was made so early and so easily. We were no longer interested in living there.
The Ascott was a comfortable and attractive residence with a few more amenities than we had back in our temporary housing days in HK. Though one thing that seriously irked me is that we had a studio apartment. It hadn't troubled me until I became aware that one of Paul's coworkers, a single guy, had a one bedroom. Another had a two bedroom. The efforts of our team of relocation specialists shine once again. There was also a rooftop pool but there was no chance I would use it. It was a long, narrow lap pool, too deep to stand in, and the walls were clear glass. It was essentially a human aquarium. No thanks. I did sit by it on several afternoons if I had nothing else to do while waiting for housekeeping to do their thing.
There was a washer/dryer which I most certainly did use since the laundry service cost about $10 per shirt. Ha. There was also room service at exorbitant prices. Made me miss the old Peach Blossom serviced apartment days back in Hong Kong with its ridiculously cheap dinners (and laundry service). I burnt myself twice while ironing Paul's shirts. One burn on my thumb is till visible from weeks ago. Call me a housewife, but I could use help on the house part.
Within two weeks my stomach realized it was being moved around Asia again and it staged a revolt. I awoke feeling unwell on a day I was supposed to meet up with some expat gals for the first time. I hoped the nausea, dizziness and chills would ease if I lay down but the pain only intensified. I held out for a couple of hours since I'm developing a complex about how many times I've needed emergency medical care while living out here, but I finally gave in and had Paul call a doctor for me. This made me feel weak, but after the alien that lived in my gut for nearly two months last summer upon return from Borneo and the digestive misery (and hospital visits) it caused me, I decided to counter-attack quickly this time.
I took a taxi to a nearby hospital and I saw a doctor fairly quickly, although it felt like an eternity. I was not impressed by his diagnostic questions. He only asked of some symptoms and how long I'd been in Singapore, not if I ate anything suspect, or where else I've traveled or if this has ever happened before. He said it was likely food-related. His words of comfort, "Oh, this will probably happen a few times while you're here," as he wrote the prescription for antibiotics. Doctors can be disappointingly predictable. I had to ask for something for the pain, as if he couldn't see I was in any. He had me wait around for over an hour to see if it lessened. It hardly did, but my choice was to go home and deal with it or stay overnight, so I went home and continued to vomit up the bile in my empty stomach. The cramps became sharper at times but less constant and I managed a few spoonfuls of a $15 bowl of chicken broth. It took about three days and little by little I felt better. I wish I could say I ate something I knew I shouldn't have, but I'm still left guessing at what got me this time. Asia. My tour of its hospitals continues.
Fortunately, I was better by Easter so Paul and I were able to continue our tradition of the last three years: Champagne brunch buffet. It was a fine treat.
Next on General Hospital... house hunting, blind friending, Citibank-hating and some observations on Singapore. Preview: it's hot. I threw a rock at the equator today.
So, where have you been?
It's not as if Singapore is a giant black hole that sucked me into it, almost never to be heard from again - or is it? Some days, I wonder. We've been here almost two months and I'm forgetting all the details I would have written if I had written but they're starting to come back to me, and I probably haven't written because I've been distracted by the hassles of settling in and I would just be detailing my frustrations, which would be no fun to read. With a little time (or a lot) I can laugh about those frustrations. Really, I can. Haha. Ha.
I'll stick with chronology and start from the beginning - the end of Hong Kong. After all our things were packed we stayed for three nights at the Island Shangri-La Hotel which was quite lovely. It was about a 10-minute walk from our apartment and it made me feel better not to stay too far from "home" so I could kid myself that life in HK would go on as usual. But on Sunday morning there was in fact a plane waiting.
We arrived in Singapore late in the afternoon and checked into our serviced apartment, The Ascott. We had three choices of residence and I chose this place because it was closest to Paul's office, one train stop, and also because it was very close to an apartment building we had previously seen and were still considering. Soon after arrival we walked outside to find a bite to eat and the neighborhood was desolate. Picture tumbleweeds blowing by, but it's so humid here they would be palm fronds. We ate terrible food at Harry's, a chain pub that you can't walk two blocks without running into here, simply because it was open. The area around Raffles Place and The Ascott is part of the business district so I suppose it would be like trying to find life on a Sunday evening in NYC's Financial District. I'm happy that one decision was made so early and so easily. We were no longer interested in living there.
The Ascott was a comfortable and attractive residence with a few more amenities than we had back in our temporary housing days in HK. Though one thing that seriously irked me is that we had a studio apartment. It hadn't troubled me until I became aware that one of Paul's coworkers, a single guy, had a one bedroom. Another had a two bedroom. The efforts of our team of relocation specialists shine once again. There was also a rooftop pool but there was no chance I would use it. It was a long, narrow lap pool, too deep to stand in, and the walls were clear glass. It was essentially a human aquarium. No thanks. I did sit by it on several afternoons if I had nothing else to do while waiting for housekeeping to do their thing.
There was a washer/dryer which I most certainly did use since the laundry service cost about $10 per shirt. Ha. There was also room service at exorbitant prices. Made me miss the old Peach Blossom serviced apartment days back in Hong Kong with its ridiculously cheap dinners (and laundry service). I burnt myself twice while ironing Paul's shirts. One burn on my thumb is till visible from weeks ago. Call me a housewife, but I could use help on the house part.
Within two weeks my stomach realized it was being moved around Asia again and it staged a revolt. I awoke feeling unwell on a day I was supposed to meet up with some expat gals for the first time. I hoped the nausea, dizziness and chills would ease if I lay down but the pain only intensified. I held out for a couple of hours since I'm developing a complex about how many times I've needed emergency medical care while living out here, but I finally gave in and had Paul call a doctor for me. This made me feel weak, but after the alien that lived in my gut for nearly two months last summer upon return from Borneo and the digestive misery (and hospital visits) it caused me, I decided to counter-attack quickly this time.
I took a taxi to a nearby hospital and I saw a doctor fairly quickly, although it felt like an eternity. I was not impressed by his diagnostic questions. He only asked of some symptoms and how long I'd been in Singapore, not if I ate anything suspect, or where else I've traveled or if this has ever happened before. He said it was likely food-related. His words of comfort, "Oh, this will probably happen a few times while you're here," as he wrote the prescription for antibiotics. Doctors can be disappointingly predictable. I had to ask for something for the pain, as if he couldn't see I was in any. He had me wait around for over an hour to see if it lessened. It hardly did, but my choice was to go home and deal with it or stay overnight, so I went home and continued to vomit up the bile in my empty stomach. The cramps became sharper at times but less constant and I managed a few spoonfuls of a $15 bowl of chicken broth. It took about three days and little by little I felt better. I wish I could say I ate something I knew I shouldn't have, but I'm still left guessing at what got me this time. Asia. My tour of its hospitals continues.
Fortunately, I was better by Easter so Paul and I were able to continue our tradition of the last three years: Champagne brunch buffet. It was a fine treat.
Next on General Hospital... house hunting, blind friending, Citibank-hating and some observations on Singapore. Preview: it's hot. I threw a rock at the equator today.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Till The Next Goodbye
We departed Hong Kong on March 14, Sunday, two years and twelve days after we arrived. For weeks before we left friends and acquaintances asked the same question asked of us just over two years ago, "Are you ready?" My answer then, now, always, "No."
As for material matters, when you have a moving company pack everything, there is a huge burden lifted, but there is still an incredible amount to sort, organize, separate, discard, give away. Pack the tape measure and furniture measurements in the suitcase to have when apartment hunting. Remember the list of account numbers. Remember the electronics chargers. Donate books to the local used bookstore. Donate household items to the Salvation Army conveniently located in Wan Chai. Give plants to friends, even though said friends look as if I'm handing them a small child to care for. Oh, buy wine… of course, buy wine. We did this the day before the movers came so they could pack and ship it since GS pays for the import duty. Wine and other alcoholic items cost a terrific amount more in Singapore due to the heavy tax on them, so we tried to bring a small stock.
Believe it or not, I started the clutter-clearing process back in January. It's shocking how much accumulates within a two room apartment in two years, much of it in the form of paper. Don't be disappointed; I still saved much for the last second, though I did sleep for about three hours the night before the movers came, which meant I still had to remove the bedsheets along with other last grab items once they were already charging in. I never saw all of them in the same room at once, but I estimate there were eight movers. For such a small place, it took a surprisingly long time for eight men to pack it up, about five hours. My reliably generous friend and neighbor Maggie brought me a sandwich around 2:30 just before they left since I hadn't eaten all day. Maggie.
And then the other matters... I know a lot of people in Hong Kong, but I doubt I was anyone's closest friend. Having said that, I will miss some of them a great deal. Such uniquely wonderful people: Nicky, fellow librarian with a librarian's nature (the good kind, not the crazy kind); Peggy, my first Kiwi kindred spirit; Victoria, my Queen's English language tutor and match in dry humor (humour to her); Kathleen, with whom I spent one of my most idyllic days on the small island of Cheung Chau back in 2008; Leslie, the L.A. attorney/surfer girl who loves the search for good food as much as I do; Maggie, sweet, infinitely generous, endlessly energetic, fun and the best foot massage companion from Idaho I've ever known.
Some friends avow they'll visit us. My faith in the promise of visitors has dwindled over two years (forgive me, but if I'm wrong, let me know when you're arriving) but we might actually see some Hong Kong friends in Singapore. It is barely a 3.5 hour flight and a lot of people pass through here for work. Actually it's such a common migration - kind of like moving from Staten Island to New Jersey - that I will already have four acquaintances in Singapore. One is Kate, the girl who organized the first group I went to where I met my friend Liz (who since returned to London) and Nicky and eventually Kathleen. The others are friends of friends whom I have met at least once in Hong Kong.
Similarly to when we left NJ we had a wealth of farewell get-togethers. Maggie, the Great Organizer, planned a party for us on a junk boat one week before we left. It turned out to be just a group of ten, but it was a great group of ten and it was a lot of fun to spend some of our last moments in Hong Kong sailing around that spectacular harbor with friends, and I thank them for it. I was a bit saddened that a couple of very good friends couldn't share the moment with us due to unfortunate timing. My friend Kathleen had to fly back to the US the day before because her husband's grandmother was ill and subsequently passed away. Another good friend, Leslie, is recuperating from surgery related to breast cancer. She's going through a very difficult time, and I hate to move on knowing a friend will need support. Fortunately her mother is staying with her and she has so many friends at her side, even if they often feel helpless as true friends do when they want so much to take away the hardship of the other.
I feel obligated to say something final about living in Hong Kong, but I believe that a summary would be inadequate. I hope that I've captured certain essences in two years' documentation here. The rest is for that book I'm writing… for the last 30 years or so. There are things we meant to do and see before we left, but we'll have to save them for a visit back. Aren't there always things you've meant to do and see before you've left?
Hong Kong's a great city. I thoroughly enjoyed my days and nights in it and my travels from it. It's loud and crowded yet surprisingly calming and comforting after traveling to mainland China or Vietnam or Thailand. People do walk into you a lot, but I just look at it as an ongoing practice in agility. It's the only city I've seen besides NYC that really doesn't sleep - except for the unfortunate moment when we attempted to eat at the Flying Pan, a 24 hour diner, at about 5 a.m. during a bout of jet lag, and it was CLOSED! By the way, the L in Flying intentionally replaces R in a loving tribute to the Chinese mispronunciation - the clock on their wall says Time Fries. There's a lot to eat, as much as there is to avoid eating. Fish balls will never sound appealing to me. Ever. Sometimes smells wafting from food stalls make my nose crinkle.
It has a great skyline. It's hot and humid and the air quality is terrible, but the cinemas are really clean and comfortable. Public transportation is a wonder of efficiency. Bus drivers drive certifiably dangerously. Taxi drivers are sometimes lunatics but most often courteous and reliable and my directions were almost always understood. People love wearing tee shirts with random English phrases or pseudo-philosophies on them, like Hitch your wagon to a star, Turn the lights out when not at home, No reason why I'm single. I always wondered if they understand the words or just like the way they look. Local Chinese say 'hello' in a tone hilariously reminiscent of Squiggy from Laverne and Shirley.
I love my neighborhood of Wan Chai and we couldn't have chosen a better place to live. It felt like home - in a comfortable, crazy, temporary, transplanted way. What I will miss most will probably occur to me after not seeing or hearing or tasting it after a few months. But there is no Denino's.
What there is here is a community of people in the same situation: being expats. This is what shaped my personal experience in Hong Kong. Really, it's what made it easy to live in a foreign land. So when I try to compose a final, grand statement about Hong Kong, I think about the people more than anything else. A city as great as Hong Kong reveals itself more brilliantly when its treasures are shared.
Fittingly, we spent our last night out with Maggie and her husband Chris at Wagyu, the place Paul and I stumbled on for brunch one Saturday in our early days - Paul wrote about it back then - we liked it so much we made a same day dinner reservation immediately after finishing brunch, and it has been my favorite ever since. For the finale, all four of us indulged in the Wagyu beef. It was the perfect ending with good friends. I would have stayed out all night to avoid the inevitable, saying goodbye. I remained collected as the moment arrived, hugged Maggie and Chris, but once they waved while getting into the cab on Queen's Road to head back to J Residence without us…
And so we begin again in Singapore. I don't know if I could feel more fortunate for all we've done and seen, thanks to Paul's long work hours and both our willingness to say yes.
Yes, Yes, yes.
Enjoy Part II with us.
As for material matters, when you have a moving company pack everything, there is a huge burden lifted, but there is still an incredible amount to sort, organize, separate, discard, give away. Pack the tape measure and furniture measurements in the suitcase to have when apartment hunting. Remember the list of account numbers. Remember the electronics chargers. Donate books to the local used bookstore. Donate household items to the Salvation Army conveniently located in Wan Chai. Give plants to friends, even though said friends look as if I'm handing them a small child to care for. Oh, buy wine… of course, buy wine. We did this the day before the movers came so they could pack and ship it since GS pays for the import duty. Wine and other alcoholic items cost a terrific amount more in Singapore due to the heavy tax on them, so we tried to bring a small stock.
Believe it or not, I started the clutter-clearing process back in January. It's shocking how much accumulates within a two room apartment in two years, much of it in the form of paper. Don't be disappointed; I still saved much for the last second, though I did sleep for about three hours the night before the movers came, which meant I still had to remove the bedsheets along with other last grab items once they were already charging in. I never saw all of them in the same room at once, but I estimate there were eight movers. For such a small place, it took a surprisingly long time for eight men to pack it up, about five hours. My reliably generous friend and neighbor Maggie brought me a sandwich around 2:30 just before they left since I hadn't eaten all day. Maggie.
And then the other matters... I know a lot of people in Hong Kong, but I doubt I was anyone's closest friend. Having said that, I will miss some of them a great deal. Such uniquely wonderful people: Nicky, fellow librarian with a librarian's nature (the good kind, not the crazy kind); Peggy, my first Kiwi kindred spirit; Victoria, my Queen's English language tutor and match in dry humor (humour to her); Kathleen, with whom I spent one of my most idyllic days on the small island of Cheung Chau back in 2008; Leslie, the L.A. attorney/surfer girl who loves the search for good food as much as I do; Maggie, sweet, infinitely generous, endlessly energetic, fun and the best foot massage companion from Idaho I've ever known.
Some friends avow they'll visit us. My faith in the promise of visitors has dwindled over two years (forgive me, but if I'm wrong, let me know when you're arriving) but we might actually see some Hong Kong friends in Singapore. It is barely a 3.5 hour flight and a lot of people pass through here for work. Actually it's such a common migration - kind of like moving from Staten Island to New Jersey - that I will already have four acquaintances in Singapore. One is Kate, the girl who organized the first group I went to where I met my friend Liz (who since returned to London) and Nicky and eventually Kathleen. The others are friends of friends whom I have met at least once in Hong Kong.
Similarly to when we left NJ we had a wealth of farewell get-togethers. Maggie, the Great Organizer, planned a party for us on a junk boat one week before we left. It turned out to be just a group of ten, but it was a great group of ten and it was a lot of fun to spend some of our last moments in Hong Kong sailing around that spectacular harbor with friends, and I thank them for it. I was a bit saddened that a couple of very good friends couldn't share the moment with us due to unfortunate timing. My friend Kathleen had to fly back to the US the day before because her husband's grandmother was ill and subsequently passed away. Another good friend, Leslie, is recuperating from surgery related to breast cancer. She's going through a very difficult time, and I hate to move on knowing a friend will need support. Fortunately her mother is staying with her and she has so many friends at her side, even if they often feel helpless as true friends do when they want so much to take away the hardship of the other.
I feel obligated to say something final about living in Hong Kong, but I believe that a summary would be inadequate. I hope that I've captured certain essences in two years' documentation here. The rest is for that book I'm writing… for the last 30 years or so. There are things we meant to do and see before we left, but we'll have to save them for a visit back. Aren't there always things you've meant to do and see before you've left?
Hong Kong's a great city. I thoroughly enjoyed my days and nights in it and my travels from it. It's loud and crowded yet surprisingly calming and comforting after traveling to mainland China or Vietnam or Thailand. People do walk into you a lot, but I just look at it as an ongoing practice in agility. It's the only city I've seen besides NYC that really doesn't sleep - except for the unfortunate moment when we attempted to eat at the Flying Pan, a 24 hour diner, at about 5 a.m. during a bout of jet lag, and it was CLOSED! By the way, the L in Flying intentionally replaces R in a loving tribute to the Chinese mispronunciation - the clock on their wall says Time Fries. There's a lot to eat, as much as there is to avoid eating. Fish balls will never sound appealing to me. Ever. Sometimes smells wafting from food stalls make my nose crinkle.
It has a great skyline. It's hot and humid and the air quality is terrible, but the cinemas are really clean and comfortable. Public transportation is a wonder of efficiency. Bus drivers drive certifiably dangerously. Taxi drivers are sometimes lunatics but most often courteous and reliable and my directions were almost always understood. People love wearing tee shirts with random English phrases or pseudo-philosophies on them, like Hitch your wagon to a star, Turn the lights out when not at home, No reason why I'm single. I always wondered if they understand the words or just like the way they look. Local Chinese say 'hello' in a tone hilariously reminiscent of Squiggy from Laverne and Shirley.
I love my neighborhood of Wan Chai and we couldn't have chosen a better place to live. It felt like home - in a comfortable, crazy, temporary, transplanted way. What I will miss most will probably occur to me after not seeing or hearing or tasting it after a few months. But there is no Denino's.
What there is here is a community of people in the same situation: being expats. This is what shaped my personal experience in Hong Kong. Really, it's what made it easy to live in a foreign land. So when I try to compose a final, grand statement about Hong Kong, I think about the people more than anything else. A city as great as Hong Kong reveals itself more brilliantly when its treasures are shared.
Fittingly, we spent our last night out with Maggie and her husband Chris at Wagyu, the place Paul and I stumbled on for brunch one Saturday in our early days - Paul wrote about it back then - we liked it so much we made a same day dinner reservation immediately after finishing brunch, and it has been my favorite ever since. For the finale, all four of us indulged in the Wagyu beef. It was the perfect ending with good friends. I would have stayed out all night to avoid the inevitable, saying goodbye. I remained collected as the moment arrived, hugged Maggie and Chris, but once they waved while getting into the cab on Queen's Road to head back to J Residence without us…
And so we begin again in Singapore. I don't know if I could feel more fortunate for all we've done and seen, thanks to Paul's long work hours and both our willingness to say yes.
Yes, Yes, yes.
Enjoy Part II with us.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
(Just Like) Starting Over
Our life together is so precious together
We have grown, we have grown
Although our love is still special
Let's take a chance and fly away somewhere alone
It's been too long since we took the time
No-one's to blame, I know time flies so quickly
But when I see you darling
It's like we both are falling in love again
It'll be just like starting over, starting over...
...It's time to spread our wings and fly
Don't let another day go by my love
It'll be just like starting over, starting over
Why don't we take off alone
Take a trip somewhere far, far away
We'll be together all alone again
Like we used to in the early days
Well, well, well darling
It's been too long since we took the time
No-one's to blame, I know time flies so quickly
But when I see you darling
It's like we both are falling in love again
It'll be just like starting over, starting over
Our life together is so precious together
We have grown, we have grown
Although our love is still special
Let's take a chance and fly away somewhere
(It's John Lennon, in case someone doesn't know and thinks I'm that poetic)
We have grown, we have grown
Although our love is still special
Let's take a chance and fly away somewhere alone
It's been too long since we took the time
No-one's to blame, I know time flies so quickly
But when I see you darling
It's like we both are falling in love again
It'll be just like starting over, starting over...
...It's time to spread our wings and fly
Don't let another day go by my love
It'll be just like starting over, starting over
Why don't we take off alone
Take a trip somewhere far, far away
We'll be together all alone again
Like we used to in the early days
Well, well, well darling
It's been too long since we took the time
No-one's to blame, I know time flies so quickly
But when I see you darling
It's like we both are falling in love again
It'll be just like starting over, starting over
Our life together is so precious together
We have grown, we have grown
Although our love is still special
Let's take a chance and fly away somewhere
(It's John Lennon, in case someone doesn't know and thinks I'm that poetic)
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Hot Hot Hot
I haven't abandoned a Vietnam post. It's just that enough time has passed that I have to reach back in my mind to write about it, so I decided to write about the more recent trip to Singapore first, otherwise soon I will have to reach back twice and I might strain something.
We went to Singapore on February 21 to get a look at the place. We've committed already so it's not as if we could say, "Nah, this isn't for us," but a preview couldn't hurt. It's less exciting than the blind leap we took arriving in Hong Kong to live, never having visited it. I realized that folks in the other hemisphere might not know anything about Singapore. Here are selected bits from trusty old Wikipedia:
So we're moving from hot to hotter, 85 miles from the equator! Oh, the hair horror. This probably evokes no sympathy from New Yorkers after this winter, but as much snow as you've shoveled will be as much sweat as we shall mop.
We got to fly there in business class, as we weren't paying, so I wished the flight was longer than 3.5 hours. I only got to watch one movie in my comfy pod. We also got to stay at The Four Seasons which ain't too shabby. It's right off Orchard Road, the main shopping district. There are more malls in Singapore, particularly on Orchard Rd., than I believed could exist. I suppose the world's 5th wealthiest citizens need someplace to spend their money.
The first impression of Singapore might be that it feels like Florida. Palm trees line the wide roads and there's a resort feel to it. It's also a little like Disney World in that it is incredibly clean and highly organized and feels somewhat artificially fabricated. Until a free trade agreement with the US in 2004, chewing gum was illegal (it's hard to scrape off the sidewalk). Restrictions have since been relaxed and gum can now be imported for medicinal purposes (so we could take up smoking and then try to quit and then freely chew nicotine gum). There are plenty of such rules. "Caning" ring a bell?
We were expecting fierce heat so it didn't seem so bad our first night walking around. There was a downpour that lasted a couple of hours in the early evening before we wandered about for dinner. We wanted something near the hotel so the concierge suggested a quaint French bistro and it was pretty good.
The next morning a representative from our relocation company met us in the hotel lobby to start an orientation. She was a British lady named Liz who's lived in Singapore for five years. She gave us a bag filled with books and maps (good thing I failed to buy any before the trip) and then we were off in her car cruising around the various areas of Singapore.
We first got out and walked about in an area called Holland Village and from the quick glimpse it felt very... like a village. A village created for expats. After living in the heart of Hong Kong I instantly felt a vague panic that there would be nothing more authentic on offer here. I can officially declare now: I'm a city girl at heart - and Holland Village was pleasant enough but gritty city was nowhere in sight. But it was just the first stop. Liz continued to drive and point to places, buildings, landmarks - all whose significance meant very little to us from the window of a car. We next stopped along a small unimpressive beach along the East Coast where many expats are said to live because you can get more home for the money outside the city. Its flaw: it's outside the city. I didn't even find it pretty or scenic enough to be a draw; it did nothing for me.
We then stopped in Chinatown for lunch. As we walked past clean, neatly arranged stalls Liz said, "This must be a lot like home." I would say it was more like the version of Chinatown you would find in Epcot Center - no frenzy, nothing out of place, no recently butchered animal parts hanging on display, no slick sidewalks from the hosing down of fresh fish or the scents that accompany them. I admit, it was a very quick glimpse and with such a large Chinese population these scenes must exist somewhere in the city, though probably still in a clean and orderly fashion.
After a long day of chauffeured exploration we tried to identify places we'd seen on the map. It was still a bit disorienting. Singapore is very small yet it's more spread out than the the urban area of Hong Kong. That evening we had some pasta and pizza on Orchard Road (did NOT qualify for our certain future task of locating the best pizza in Singapore).
The next morning we met Liz again along with Lilian, our real estate agent. She gave us a list of places to view for the day. To make a long list short, we saw four places in total - not exactly a blockbuster day in the two-day house hunt we came for.
In summary, the very first place we saw was easily the nicest apartment overall in our two day search and we did consider it in our decision process but it was near Holland Village and ultimately we decided that we preferred to live in a more central location. We also saw one other place we liked in a brand new building with a fabulous view of the marina but we asked to see it again the next day and it was already gone. We saw another unit in the same building but it wasn't nearly as nice as the first, particularly the view, so we focused on other options.
After the first day, we both tactfully expressed a desire to see more than just brand new buildings in expat areas and to see what different prices will get us, not simply anything only at the TOP of our budget, thank you. As simple as this may sound, both Liz and Lilian seemed perplexed by the suggestion at first. I suppose there was some later discussion with the woman in charge at the relocation company whose job it is to make our move easier. The next day was more fulfilling, with a viewing of 12 places in total and at different prices.
At the end of the second day as we discussed our options with Liz and Lilian, I stated that I liked a certain place out near Holland Village but that I didn't want to sacrifice living in the city for it. Liz said, "What do you mean?" Hmm. Momentarily speechless, I reached around for my advanced "splainin' skills" because the sentence that I had just spoken couldn't have been more straightforward or clear in its meaning and hardly begged for elaboration. I mean that when I walk out my door I want to see people, things, people doing things, activity, a store or two where I can pop in for something useful. For a relocation rep, Liz, as well as Lilian, had such a narrow perspective on expat living and they subtly conveyed what felt like disapproval of our open-mindedness to an exploration of options.
Cutting to what matters, we did in fact see a place we were interested in. Soon after the second day's hunt ended we called Lilian to ask if we could look at it again the next day to check the details. Paul was scheduled to go into the office that morning so we went in the afternoon with a tape measure and a discerning eye. We left with a definite feeling of probably. From the apartment we walked around the local area to get a feel for it and we ate dinner at Chinese seafood place. We liked the flat and its facilities enough but we were hoping to feel comfortable in the surroundings. It's so hard to tell in a few hours' time. You start to compare everything to the place you currently live and that place becomes irreplaceable.
By the flight home the next morning, we decided it was a go. You may recall, in the early days of the blog, the detailed decision process I went through regarding our Hong Kong apartment choices. So, an overnight decision is fairly impressive for me, but I felt pretty good about it. None of the details matter here and now because the relocation rep called to say that someone else bid and the owner accepted their offer even though they had verbally agreed to ours first. Glad we've got someone looking out for us. We'll soon restart the search with the aid of the agent who championed our cause so brilliantly the first go.
And now for some odd "So this is Singapore?" moments... At the first apartment we looked at (the very nice one that was a bit out of the way of the city), the owner was there and she enthusiastically gave us a tour of the place. Her son, the one renting it out, was also there but I don't think he said a word. She told us she bought the units in this building for her children, so she spared no expense: no cheap curtains, large American style side-by-side refrigerator, units facing southeast to avoid the afternoon sun, etc. She had what I'll call a real zeal for selling. She said she prefers not to rent to single men and she was relieved to see we didn't have small children - because of the balcony. She also pointed out that the building was in a good location, outside the city. Because if you live in the city, you live with a mix of people... you might even get into the elevator with one of those people but not here.
We thought her statements a bit bizarre, but we were mostly just relieved to escape the hard sell and be on our way. Soon after that, our agent said she knew of a very nice building, but the location was questionable. Far out from the city? I probed. No, not exactly she hemmed. There was obvious hesitation in her voice but she eventually mumbled the words. "I have to ask your permission... to take you there... you see... it's near Little India." Gasp! Shriek! Good God, we lived a minute away from Edison, NJ. "Is it in our price range? Yes, can you show us the place, please." This is going to be an interesting process.
Another part of the picture is funny to recount but was rather unnerving at the time. At one place we viewed, as we pulled up to the building, a man was being apprehended by two cops across the street. They were trying to physically restrain him and he was fighting back, all rather quietly. The agent we were meeting was late so we had to stand outside and witness most of the scene. Who knows what he did. I guess backup eventually arrived with a car, not sure. Liz laughed as I observed, "Not the best first impression." We also laughed as she repeated the slogan seen on billboards throughout the city: Be aware - Just because there's low crime doesn't mean there's no crime!
Only one last impression to note. Any cooling breeze there had been which may have briefly tricked us into thinking 85 miles from the equator is bearable had utterly died by our last night there. We arrived back at the hotel after the walk around our potential neighborhood quite perspired, so we had a drink at the hotel bar. My choice of beverage - the chocolate milkshake. It was quite possibly the best chocolate milkshake I've ever tasted. If things get rough in the next apartment search, I know where to head to drown our sorrows.
We went to Singapore on February 21 to get a look at the place. We've committed already so it's not as if we could say, "Nah, this isn't for us," but a preview couldn't hurt. It's less exciting than the blind leap we took arriving in Hong Kong to live, never having visited it. I realized that folks in the other hemisphere might not know anything about Singapore. Here are selected bits from trusty old Wikipedia:
You might think it's the part about it being the third most expensive city to live in Asia that would make Paul groan. No, no, it's this part...Singapore, officially the Republic of Singapore, is an island city-state off the southern tip of the Malay Peninsula, 137 kilometres (85 mi) north of the equator, south of the Malaysian state of Johor and north of Indonesia's Riau Islands. At 710.2 km2 (274.2 sq mi), Singapore is a microstate and the smallest nation in Southeast Asia. It is substantially larger than Monaco and Vatican City, the only other present-day sovereign city-states.
Singapore is the 5th wealthiest country in the world in terms of GDP (PPP) per capita.
In 2009, the Economist Intelligence Unit ranked Singapore the tenth most expensive city in the world in which to live—the third in Asia, after Tokyo and Osaka. The 2009 Cost of Living survey, by consultancy firm Mercer, has ranked Singapore similarly as the tenth most expensive city for expatriates to live in.The population of Singapore including non-residents is approximately 4.99 million. Singapore is highly cosmopolitan and diverse with Chinese people forming an ethnic majority with large populations of Malay, Indian and other people. English, Malay, Tamil, and Chinese are the official languages.
Singapore has a tropical rainforest climate with no distinctive seasons. Its climate is characterized by uniform temperature and pressure, high humidity, and abundant rainfall. Temperatures range from 22 °C to 34 °C (72° to 93 °F). On average, the relative humidity is around 90% in the morning and 60% in the afternoon. During prolonged heavy rain, relative humidity often reaches 100%.
So we're moving from hot to hotter, 85 miles from the equator! Oh, the hair horror. This probably evokes no sympathy from New Yorkers after this winter, but as much snow as you've shoveled will be as much sweat as we shall mop.
We got to fly there in business class, as we weren't paying, so I wished the flight was longer than 3.5 hours. I only got to watch one movie in my comfy pod. We also got to stay at The Four Seasons which ain't too shabby. It's right off Orchard Road, the main shopping district. There are more malls in Singapore, particularly on Orchard Rd., than I believed could exist. I suppose the world's 5th wealthiest citizens need someplace to spend their money.
The first impression of Singapore might be that it feels like Florida. Palm trees line the wide roads and there's a resort feel to it. It's also a little like Disney World in that it is incredibly clean and highly organized and feels somewhat artificially fabricated. Until a free trade agreement with the US in 2004, chewing gum was illegal (it's hard to scrape off the sidewalk). Restrictions have since been relaxed and gum can now be imported for medicinal purposes (so we could take up smoking and then try to quit and then freely chew nicotine gum). There are plenty of such rules. "Caning" ring a bell?
We were expecting fierce heat so it didn't seem so bad our first night walking around. There was a downpour that lasted a couple of hours in the early evening before we wandered about for dinner. We wanted something near the hotel so the concierge suggested a quaint French bistro and it was pretty good.
The next morning a representative from our relocation company met us in the hotel lobby to start an orientation. She was a British lady named Liz who's lived in Singapore for five years. She gave us a bag filled with books and maps (good thing I failed to buy any before the trip) and then we were off in her car cruising around the various areas of Singapore.
We first got out and walked about in an area called Holland Village and from the quick glimpse it felt very... like a village. A village created for expats. After living in the heart of Hong Kong I instantly felt a vague panic that there would be nothing more authentic on offer here. I can officially declare now: I'm a city girl at heart - and Holland Village was pleasant enough but gritty city was nowhere in sight. But it was just the first stop. Liz continued to drive and point to places, buildings, landmarks - all whose significance meant very little to us from the window of a car. We next stopped along a small unimpressive beach along the East Coast where many expats are said to live because you can get more home for the money outside the city. Its flaw: it's outside the city. I didn't even find it pretty or scenic enough to be a draw; it did nothing for me.
We then stopped in Chinatown for lunch. As we walked past clean, neatly arranged stalls Liz said, "This must be a lot like home." I would say it was more like the version of Chinatown you would find in Epcot Center - no frenzy, nothing out of place, no recently butchered animal parts hanging on display, no slick sidewalks from the hosing down of fresh fish or the scents that accompany them. I admit, it was a very quick glimpse and with such a large Chinese population these scenes must exist somewhere in the city, though probably still in a clean and orderly fashion.
After a long day of chauffeured exploration we tried to identify places we'd seen on the map. It was still a bit disorienting. Singapore is very small yet it's more spread out than the the urban area of Hong Kong. That evening we had some pasta and pizza on Orchard Road (did NOT qualify for our certain future task of locating the best pizza in Singapore).
The next morning we met Liz again along with Lilian, our real estate agent. She gave us a list of places to view for the day. To make a long list short, we saw four places in total - not exactly a blockbuster day in the two-day house hunt we came for.
In summary, the very first place we saw was easily the nicest apartment overall in our two day search and we did consider it in our decision process but it was near Holland Village and ultimately we decided that we preferred to live in a more central location. We also saw one other place we liked in a brand new building with a fabulous view of the marina but we asked to see it again the next day and it was already gone. We saw another unit in the same building but it wasn't nearly as nice as the first, particularly the view, so we focused on other options.
After the first day, we both tactfully expressed a desire to see more than just brand new buildings in expat areas and to see what different prices will get us, not simply anything only at the TOP of our budget, thank you. As simple as this may sound, both Liz and Lilian seemed perplexed by the suggestion at first. I suppose there was some later discussion with the woman in charge at the relocation company whose job it is to make our move easier. The next day was more fulfilling, with a viewing of 12 places in total and at different prices.
At the end of the second day as we discussed our options with Liz and Lilian, I stated that I liked a certain place out near Holland Village but that I didn't want to sacrifice living in the city for it. Liz said, "What do you mean?" Hmm. Momentarily speechless, I reached around for my advanced "splainin' skills" because the sentence that I had just spoken couldn't have been more straightforward or clear in its meaning and hardly begged for elaboration. I mean that when I walk out my door I want to see people, things, people doing things, activity, a store or two where I can pop in for something useful. For a relocation rep, Liz, as well as Lilian, had such a narrow perspective on expat living and they subtly conveyed what felt like disapproval of our open-mindedness to an exploration of options.
Cutting to what matters, we did in fact see a place we were interested in. Soon after the second day's hunt ended we called Lilian to ask if we could look at it again the next day to check the details. Paul was scheduled to go into the office that morning so we went in the afternoon with a tape measure and a discerning eye. We left with a definite feeling of probably. From the apartment we walked around the local area to get a feel for it and we ate dinner at Chinese seafood place. We liked the flat and its facilities enough but we were hoping to feel comfortable in the surroundings. It's so hard to tell in a few hours' time. You start to compare everything to the place you currently live and that place becomes irreplaceable.
By the flight home the next morning, we decided it was a go. You may recall, in the early days of the blog, the detailed decision process I went through regarding our Hong Kong apartment choices. So, an overnight decision is fairly impressive for me, but I felt pretty good about it. None of the details matter here and now because the relocation rep called to say that someone else bid and the owner accepted their offer even though they had verbally agreed to ours first. Glad we've got someone looking out for us. We'll soon restart the search with the aid of the agent who championed our cause so brilliantly the first go.
And now for some odd "So this is Singapore?" moments... At the first apartment we looked at (the very nice one that was a bit out of the way of the city), the owner was there and she enthusiastically gave us a tour of the place. Her son, the one renting it out, was also there but I don't think he said a word. She told us she bought the units in this building for her children, so she spared no expense: no cheap curtains, large American style side-by-side refrigerator, units facing southeast to avoid the afternoon sun, etc. She had what I'll call a real zeal for selling. She said she prefers not to rent to single men and she was relieved to see we didn't have small children - because of the balcony. She also pointed out that the building was in a good location, outside the city. Because if you live in the city, you live with a mix of people... you might even get into the elevator with one of those people but not here.
We thought her statements a bit bizarre, but we were mostly just relieved to escape the hard sell and be on our way. Soon after that, our agent said she knew of a very nice building, but the location was questionable. Far out from the city? I probed. No, not exactly she hemmed. There was obvious hesitation in her voice but she eventually mumbled the words. "I have to ask your permission... to take you there... you see... it's near Little India." Gasp! Shriek! Good God, we lived a minute away from Edison, NJ. "Is it in our price range? Yes, can you show us the place, please." This is going to be an interesting process.
Another part of the picture is funny to recount but was rather unnerving at the time. At one place we viewed, as we pulled up to the building, a man was being apprehended by two cops across the street. They were trying to physically restrain him and he was fighting back, all rather quietly. The agent we were meeting was late so we had to stand outside and witness most of the scene. Who knows what he did. I guess backup eventually arrived with a car, not sure. Liz laughed as I observed, "Not the best first impression." We also laughed as she repeated the slogan seen on billboards throughout the city: Be aware - Just because there's low crime doesn't mean there's no crime!
Only one last impression to note. Any cooling breeze there had been which may have briefly tricked us into thinking 85 miles from the equator is bearable had utterly died by our last night there. We arrived back at the hotel after the walk around our potential neighborhood quite perspired, so we had a drink at the hotel bar. My choice of beverage - the chocolate milkshake. It was quite possibly the best chocolate milkshake I've ever tasted. If things get rough in the next apartment search, I know where to head to drown our sorrows.
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