Australia Day in Little India

As my fellow compatriots blacken cheap sausages and chops while getting progressively drunker the closer they get to number one on triple J's Hottest 100, I found myself in Little India where it was teeming with rain and cheap kncok off. I can't help myself, I love the colour and smells so much, it's quite intoxicating. As I write this back at the hotel, it is once again pouring with rain in that heavy, sultry way that Singapore does so well. I had thought that we were coming out of their wet season but the thunder storms last night and the rain today seem to be pushing the wet up to the end of January.

But back to Little India. There's so much about this part of town that continually fascinates me. From the 19th centruy buildings painted in garish pastels to the hawker stalls to the semi organised clutter of the Mustafa Shopping Centre. I guess it's the texture of place that does it for me. The colour of the garments and food on display, the grimy walls, the smelly food courts, the clutter on the pavements from hosehold detritus to guys doing motorbike repars in the middle of the pavement.

Walking down the side streets you pass old men on bicycles, small food and drink stands and people hanging their washing on poles out of their apartment or terrace windows. To me it is stange and exotic. To the locals, it is just everyday life and they must wonder why some pale guy with his touch phone wants to keep taking photos of gutted fish. I'd certainly be bewildered if a Singaporean kept snapping myself and my friends sitting outside L'espresso.

In the lead up to today, Australia's national day, it has been interesting the last few weeks to reflect on myself as an Australian citizen and what that means to me and how I see myself in the rest of the world. To be honest I've never really been a fan of Australia Day. Yes, I love my country and it will always feel like home but chest beating and flag waving has always raised my hackles somewhat. National pride is not a bad thing but I get very uncomfortable, especially after the Cronulla riots about dickheads in board shorts with flags drapped around their necks confusing patriotism with nationism.

In my view, Australians can unfortunately be very quick to point the finger at aspects of other cultures that they find offensive or undesireable but are very slow if not openly defiant about looking truthfully at our own backyards. Our collective attitudes towards indigenous Australians and our inherent suspions of Muslims is where I think this most grossly manifests itself.

The thing that has been most interesting as an Australian to observe over here in Singapore is the cleanliness of the place and the almost 100% safety afforded by no (or extremely low) drugs and crime. I have to say that I'm really enjoying walking everywhere at any time of day or night and not really thinking about my personal safety at all. Everyone by and large, is also very respectful here. Where I'm going with this is that it stops you and makes you question whether the voracious egalitarian nature of Australian society is necessarily a good thing. Should we be harsher on those that dare to break our laws and thumb their noses at our legal system? I don't know. Is the level of respect that everyone seems to operate under here a by product of a certain level of fear of their Government and it's agencies. Is that a bad thing? Can the two be separated? These are the questions I have been asking myself as an Australian abroad expereincing a new culture and seeking to fit in with it.

I should say that Singaore's reputation for dullness/ conservatism is much like it's reputation for bargain shopping- one that was true about 20-30 years ago but has no real relevance today. It is a very lively and exciting city and there is certainly no lack of scantily clad women adorning billboards and there are distinct districts where vice and avarice await on every corner. Long hair and beards on men is quite acceptible and Singapore is now a truly multicultural melting pot of the South East where all corners of the globe fly in and out and leave their indelible mark.

Living in another country is a wonderful way to help you define what it is to belong to your home country and how that shapes you as a person. It is a constanly evolving process and one that I am relishing every day.

Pulau Ubin

Ah, nature! I found you tucked away on a little island off the eastern shore of this concrete labyrinth.

To begin this tale, it once again starts with a deliciously smooth latte at Highlander Coffee Academy near Singapore General Hospital. I once again ran into our new friend Hannah who this time was joined by two of her colleagues, one of which was Meng Shyen who offered to take me to the tiny island of Pulau Ubin with a friend of his who is visiting for the week.

We met on Friday morning and took a double decker bus to Changi village on the far east of the mainland. This was a great way to see parts of Singapore not visible on the underground MRT and a nice trip down memory lane for Gordon, Meng's old collegue who lived towards Changi over 10 years ago. There are no times for the small 12 passenger water taxis, you just have to wait for enough people to fill one, usually not long. So after a quick bite to eat (and the best carrot cake I've had so far....which incidentally is not the least bit like what we think of in the west as carrot cake) we boarded the water taxis with our noses filled with diesel fumes and chugged the 10 mins across the water to Pulua Ubin.

There we rented bikes for $5 and cycled our way around the island, giving the western section a miss as it was a foot or so underwater. It is a jungle paradise with beautuful birdlife, the odd snake and wild boars! Meng was a brilliant guide as he has been to the island several times as a student studying the ecology and ecosystems so he can spot the tiniest mudcrub and lung fish, normally invisible to my eyes, with the ease with which one spots a McDonalds store.

During the week is definately the time to go as we had the island virtually to ourselves and it gets very busy on the weekends. Cycling is such a great way to see the island, being able to breeze around at your own pace and there are some nice steep gravel roads that provide a small thrill as you fly down them with the wind in your hair. Having returned the bikes, we refreshed ourselves with the obligatory Tiger beer in the small square of what passes for the township. The island is dotted with little ramshackle huts and tin shanties that form part of the island's charm and allure. A world away from the dizzines of the glass evevator in our luxury hotel, Pulau Ubin was a welcome taste of the real world with it's amazing corals, jungle, mangoves, birdlife and slow pace of life.

A pirate lost in a corporate sea

I've been a bit miffed at the attention Flic has been getting from passer bys here in Singapore. Not because I don't like guys checking her out but because I haven't been getting the same attention from the girls (not even when I suck in my tummy!). But not in any seriousness, just a bit of light hearted competetion and interesting socialiological observation.

Asian women don't seem at all interested in swarthy, unshaven types with ripped jeans and pendants round their neck. But I discovered something interesting today.....have a shave and stick a suit on, and it's a VERY different story! Quite strange. Guess I'm not on Brunswick street anymore Toto.

Singapore: the first days.

Ok, so I've been a bit slack on getting this blog happening but I guess I've been too busy exploring and settling in. First impressions of Singapore: Awesome! I really like it here. So clean and well run and the local folk are very friendly. Within hours, we'd already made friends and been invited to go out and see a band.

There was a massive drama with everyone involved with the Lion King being kicked out of the Marina Bay Sands because the world wide corporation suddenly said "no freebies" and those already there were given 3 hours to get out. Pretty bummed out that we're staying there but the Grand Park Orchard is very nice and hey, it's free!

Its a little surreal living on Orchard road which is a never ending row of neon edifices worshipping Prada, Gucci and every other designer label you can think of. The food court of the enormous Takashimaya complex however, is briliant and a beautiful meal can be had for $4-5.

Escaping Orchard road, we have found more authentic expeiences in Little China Town and Little India. Again, fantastic food in Little India and the most gorgeous brocaded garments with such rich colour.

Flic starts work today which I suspect she is quite glad of, despite the 12 hours days during the bump in period. While it's essentially a holiday for me at the moment, Felicity has had quite an enormous task hovering just around the corner so there is always an element or nervousness about such a job and so it's best to get the first day over with. I'm enjoying going to the gym and trying to get a bit fitter. Today I start job hunting in earnest and will be heading into Little China Town to find an internet cafe where I can print more resumes.

We had dinner last night with Flic's auntie and her partner which was lovely and they were able to give us the much sought after local knoweldge on cheaper supermarkets and shopping etc.

Being the coffee snobs we are, we got online to find where the expats were blogging was the best coffee and boy, did we find it. 4 or 5 stops, 2 trains but totally worth the trip to get to Highlander on Kampong Bahru rd, just opposite the Genrral Hospital. We also made a friend there who studied in Melbourne and took us in her car to the Botanic Gardens and wants to stay in touch.

Farewell ol' girl

I've just taken my car to the wreckers. I kinda feel like I've just put down a trusty old mare, past her prime but solid and equal to none when there was some hard yakka ahead. People talk about cars being males or females. It didn't take me long to think of her in the terms described above. She was occasionally a grumpy old bitch but like the drover's wife, had plenty of guts and determination.

Thanks for the memories and all the work you have done old girl. You were a 96 EL Ford Falcon wagon that carried me through troubled times, moved me in and out of countless houses, journeyed with me into the bush, and kept me safe. In your old age your looks had diminshed but your spirit never suffered. Rest now in your graveyard of steel.

Where everybody knows your name

This is a cafe where I have quite literally grown up and will be sorry to say goodbye to when I leave the country for a number of years. Even when I lived in Melbourne I was still a regular visitor here. I started coming here as a youngster with my mother when it was just the right hand side of the building with only a  coffee machine, home made gelati and a wall of records for sale.

I've taken probably all my girlfriends there, had crushes on the waitresses and developed a fondness for jazz that I never thought possible. I love the colour palette and the soft lighting that gives the place it's own special ambience. I dearly hope that its much the same when I return to Oz and that one day I can take my own children there for a chocolate milkshake and begin their education on Miles Davis, John Coltrane and Louis Armstrong.

Castle Grey

This is the new colour going on the pressed metal in Mum's entrance way. It's a really dark charcoal in a high gloss and looks awesome. High time the horrible lemon yellow went that's been there since we arrived in late 2006.

It's nice being here for a bit in between rentals or overseas travels. There's always 100 projects I want to do but in the week remaining will content myself with painting the interior hallway and building a fence alongside the carport.

Just some recent pics

Music at Maccas

I had the pleasure of being one of the approved guests of Music at Maccas, an intimate and relaxed get together of the McDonald family and selected friends at the Garibaldi Hall on Jan 1st. It's an annual tradition and there is a schedule of performers from 2pm all the way until 11pmish. Felicity and her brother Mark played last year and this time I joined them. Playing the bass again for the first time in roughly 8 years was a bit daunting but also a lot of fun. Singing ( and I use the term quite loosley) All Along the Watchtower, the Dave Matthews version, was also another buz. I do still get quite a kick out of performing and and I think I'll try get back into music a bit.

This was the jam session at the end of the night where I merrily whacked a djembe for a while before retiring in time for a ridiculously early start in the morning.

NYE2010

We farewelled 2010 with a party at our place which had a nice turn out and plenty of old and new friends to say goodbye to. A brilliant surprise was when my mother, knowing what my outfit was going to be, turned up for a bit as 'Jack Sparrow's Mother'. Just gorgeous!

The First Post

So this is really just for me to get me head around this blog thing. Thought that as I'm heading off overseas for some adventures, I'd finally try my hand at the blog world. This will mostly be diary entries and observations from when we arrive in Singapore to live from January 2011.