I mentioned in the birds post about not telling Bill about the lizards. I figured anyone who had read that might be wondering what lizards had to do with it, or the birds. Well, they didn't have anything to do with the birds. They have their own story to tell.
When Shree showed me the kitchen (he arrived in Singapore about a month before I did, and had already chosen our house), he explained that I keep everything tightly closed. What he didn't add was why. I looked at all the plastic containers and just figured it was because of the humidity. I found out later there was more to it than just the humidity.
Of course, everyone knows ants will get into sugar, if they can, but we didn't have just ants, we had fire ants. Those little suckers would eat you alive if they got on you, leaving red whelps behind to show they'd been there. I can tell you, fire ants do not like sugars, they prefer other things besides that but will get into everything looking for what they want. They were a problem that all our friends shared, with little success in keeping them out. I found a pretty good solution quite by accident. I'd cleaned off the marble (or slate, whatever it was) with the lemon dish washing liquid I'd gotten from the shops. It seems the ants HATED it and would not walk across it. Perhaps fire ants do not like lemon, or soap, but either way, it kept them out of my kitchen as long as I remembered to wipe down the counters each day.
Ants? you ask. Wasn't this post supposed to be about lizards? :) Well, yes, back to the lizards.
I am sure the lizards have a proper name, other than just "lizard." Yep, they do. wildsingapore.per.sg lists the "lizards" that are native to Singapore, and although there are a dozen of them listed, they are all gecko lizards. Explains why some of the lizards were bigger than others and why some were dark and others were lighter green.
I have more than one story about the lizards to tell, so be patient. I just wanted to get the ant thing out of the way first, and identify my lizards as gecko. Real, wild gecko, not like the Australian-accented one in the commercials. Mine didn't talk.
Like sharing my kitchen with a flock of birds (which continued in both locations we lived in at Jurong East), I also shared it with the lizards. Matter of fact, the lizards pretty well enjoyed the whole house. Sometimes they'd run when I entered the room, and other times, they hold still, I guess to see what I was going to do and see if I was going to come where they were. My stories will be about two specific ones of these visiting lizards.
The first lizard in my story was a light-colored one and had a dark spot on one side of his/her back (which is how I identified him as the same lizard every time - his "beauty mark" so to speak). This particular lizard I called "Henry" and talked to it because, being alone all day while Shree was at work, it was my sole companion. "Hi Henry! Whachadoin?" Henry never had much to say, but followed me from room to room. No matter what room I went into, he managed to get in and hang out with me. Perhaps he liked being talked to, maybe he liked blondes, who knows. But he'd come as close as he dared to where I was sitting, and watch my every move. So, Henry was my first "friend" in Singapore.
The next lizard was a darker one, also a bit smaller than Henry. I never named him because he flipped me out too much. His preferred residence was in the bathroom. Let me stop here to explain a "typical" Singaporean bathroom to those only experienced with the US kind: There, the whole bathroom is one room. It includes the shower and toilet (which is flat to the floor and requires squatting to use) and is covered floor and walls in tile, making the whole room the shower. What we'd call a bathroom sink is outside the door to this room for the main bathroom, and inside - to get wet as you shower - in the MB one. So, the little lizard had a pretty good size room to do his lizard stuff in. Now for the story part. Every time, and I mean EVERY TIME, I took a shower, it would jump on me. Why? I have no idea, but it did. The first time it did it, I was glad I was already in the bathroom, or I'd have needed one. After I got used to it, I'd wait for it to leap from the wall or ceiling to land on me (usually on my arm or shoulder), and then take my shower, with my little lizard friend. It never followed me around, like Henry did, but it was a ritual for it to jump on me every time I showered. I was careful to not get soap in its eyes. :) I got so used to its antics that I'd have to remember to make it get off, or I'd carry it back into the bedroom on me and it didn't like the bedroom. My turn to flip it out, I guess.
Next story: I found out one more of the reasons to keep everything tightly closed. Part of my Singapore (and Indian husband) experiences was to learn to prepare new dishes. There, food courts offered up all kinds of Indian, Thai, Indonesian and Chinese fare. In my efforts to recreate what I tasted there at the courts, I'd gotten a packet of curry powder. Now, for those of you that have never had curry, it can be a bit on the spicy side and I'd gotten the spiciest one I could find, because that's how we liked it - hot and spicy. Apparently when I closed it up, I didn't get it sealed as well as I should have. A day or so later, I was looking for it and upon finding me looking for it, Shree nonchalantly said, "I threw it out." Why? I asked. "Because the lizards laid eggs in it." Up went my eyebrows. Ewww! I don't know about you, but being hatched in a bag full of ground up hot peppers and other spices is not my idea of how to come into the world. Unless you are a lizard, I suppose. Then my next thought was why didn't he show it to me first because I'd never seen lizard eggs before.
Lizards were a daily part of my life in Singapore. Besides Henry and my bathroom buddy, many came in and out, stopping for a moment to watch the strange person they'd found. Some, as I have mentioned before, were light, some dark, some big, some small. But I got used to them. And yes, if a lizard gets scared, his tail does fall off. (Ewww!)
Now, for the final chapter. We married in April of 2000. Shree's family took some time to adjust to their new foreign daughter, so I didn't get to meet them for the first time until August 2001. We made a quick trip in and back out again for a jam-packed 3 days in Mumbai. The second time we went, for a little longer time to spend with them, was the trip a few months later and covered here in another post, Xmas 2001. When we came back, after our two week absence from home, I found Henry in the middle of the kitchen. I don't know if he missed me too much and thought I'd abandoned him (and committed lizard suicide), or it was just his time to go. But I missed my little green friend after that. None of the other lizards, although there were many, ever picked up his habit of following me and watching me with such interest. I still had my bathroom buddy though, until we moved to a different flat nearer the airport, where Shree's project was located. Bathroom buddy remained behind to terrorize the next occupant. (Wonder how that went?)
Note: The above photos are not of my lizards in Singapore. I "borrowed" them from wildsingapore.per.sg to illustrate what kind of lizard Henry and bathroom buddy were.
This post dedicated to Henry. May he RIP wherever it is that lizards go.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
S-h-m-i-l-y
They say we learn about love from being surrounded by it. Rochester, New York journalism student Laura Allen's grandparents taught her a lesson in love that outlasted their lifetime and lives on in hers, as she shares the story. She writes:
My grandparents were married for over half a century, and played their own special game from the time they had met each other. The goal of their game was to write the word "shmily" in a surprise place for the other to find. They took turns leaving "shmily" around the house, and as soon as one of them discovered it, it was their turn to hide it once more.
They dragged "shmily" with their fingers through the sugar container to await whoever was preparing the next meal. They smeared it in the dew on the windows overlooking the patio where my grandma always fed us homemade pudding. "Shmily" was written in the steam on the mirror after a hot shower, where it would reappear bath after bath. At one point my grandmother unrolled an entire roll of toilet paper to leave "shmily" on the very last sheet.
There was no end to where "shmily" would pop up. Little notes with "shmily" scribbled on them were found on car seats or taped to the steering wheel. The notes were stuffed inside shoes and left under pillows. "Shmily" was written in the dust on the mantle and traced in the ashes of the fireplace. The mysterious word was a much a part of my grandparents' house as the furniture.
Grandma and Grandpa held hands every chance they could. They finished each other's sentences and shared the daily crossword puzzle. My grandmother whispered to me about how cute my grandpa was--the man she met on a blind date--and how handsome an old man he had grown to be. Before every meal they bowed heads and gave thanks, marveling at their blessings: a wonderful family, good fortune and each other.
But there was a dark cloud on my grandparent's life, my grandmother had cancer. The disease had first appeared ten years earlier, and at that time I remember that she'd painted her room yellow. With a yellow room, she explained, she would always be surrounded by sunshine even if she was too sick to go outside to enjoy it.
With the help of a cane and my grandfather's steady hand, they still went to church every morning. But my grandmother grew weaker until she could not leave the house anymore. For a while, grandpa would go to church alone, praying to God to watch over his wife. Then one day, what we all dreaded finally happened. Grandma was gone.
"Shmily." It was scrawled in yellow on the pink ribbons of my grandmother's funeral bouquet. As the crowd thinned and the last mourners turned to leave, my aunts, uncles, cousins and other family members gathered around Grandma one last time. Grandpa stepped up to my grandmother's casket and, taking a shaky breath, he began to sing to her. Through his tears and grief, the song came, a deep and throaty lullaby.
Shaking with my own sorrow, I will never forget that moment. For I knew then that, although I couldn't begin to fathom the depth of their love, I had been privileged to witness its unmatched beauty.
S-h-m-i-l-y. See How Much I Love You.
Thank you, Grandma and Grandpa, for letting me see.
My grandparents were married for over half a century, and played their own special game from the time they had met each other. The goal of their game was to write the word "shmily" in a surprise place for the other to find. They took turns leaving "shmily" around the house, and as soon as one of them discovered it, it was their turn to hide it once more.
They dragged "shmily" with their fingers through the sugar container to await whoever was preparing the next meal. They smeared it in the dew on the windows overlooking the patio where my grandma always fed us homemade pudding. "Shmily" was written in the steam on the mirror after a hot shower, where it would reappear bath after bath. At one point my grandmother unrolled an entire roll of toilet paper to leave "shmily" on the very last sheet.
There was no end to where "shmily" would pop up. Little notes with "shmily" scribbled on them were found on car seats or taped to the steering wheel. The notes were stuffed inside shoes and left under pillows. "Shmily" was written in the dust on the mantle and traced in the ashes of the fireplace. The mysterious word was a much a part of my grandparents' house as the furniture.
Grandma and Grandpa held hands every chance they could. They finished each other's sentences and shared the daily crossword puzzle. My grandmother whispered to me about how cute my grandpa was--the man she met on a blind date--and how handsome an old man he had grown to be. Before every meal they bowed heads and gave thanks, marveling at their blessings: a wonderful family, good fortune and each other.
But there was a dark cloud on my grandparent's life, my grandmother had cancer. The disease had first appeared ten years earlier, and at that time I remember that she'd painted her room yellow. With a yellow room, she explained, she would always be surrounded by sunshine even if she was too sick to go outside to enjoy it.
With the help of a cane and my grandfather's steady hand, they still went to church every morning. But my grandmother grew weaker until she could not leave the house anymore. For a while, grandpa would go to church alone, praying to God to watch over his wife. Then one day, what we all dreaded finally happened. Grandma was gone.
"Shmily." It was scrawled in yellow on the pink ribbons of my grandmother's funeral bouquet. As the crowd thinned and the last mourners turned to leave, my aunts, uncles, cousins and other family members gathered around Grandma one last time. Grandpa stepped up to my grandmother's casket and, taking a shaky breath, he began to sing to her. Through his tears and grief, the song came, a deep and throaty lullaby.
Shaking with my own sorrow, I will never forget that moment. For I knew then that, although I couldn't begin to fathom the depth of their love, I had been privileged to witness its unmatched beauty.
S-h-m-i-l-y. See How Much I Love You.
Thank you, Grandma and Grandpa, for letting me see.
Catching Up
I spent most of yesterday catching some things up. I have photos everywhere, on this webpage, that webpage, in this folder on the laptop, another folder on the other computer, etc. One thing I have realized is that you think at the moment when you take it, and even when you look at it a bit later, that you'll never forget the experience that led up to taking it, where you were and who you were with BUT the truth is, you do forget. I have many photos that I look at now and the memories regarding it are dim, fading fast. So I figured I might as well put them here, with the added bonus that everything is all together in one place. Yesterday's efforts were to gather the webpage stuff together, which is pretty well done at this point (unless I find more, or remember where something else is located), at least what has happened since 1999 when this segment of my life began. And before everything is lost or forgotten.
More coming...
More coming...
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
India - Christmas 2001 in Mumbai
From the 14th to the 24th of December,
we spent the time in Mumbai, India, with Shree's family.
Shree arranged for a family outing for all of us, by renting a car for a whole day (for 2000 rupees, or about $42 US) and had it take us to several spots. The driver was two and a half hours late, which almost ruined the mood for the day, but we made the best of it.
The first place we went was The Gateway to India, at the tip of the island that makes the main "city" of Mumbai.The view from the right side of the gateway, part of Mumbai in the distance.
The view from looking straight at the Gateway, of the boats. The water here is too shallow for the ships, so there are only smaller boats able to come here.
From left to right: Shree's brother, Parag, Daddy, Shree's youngest brother, Deepak, Mamma and then, me.While outside the vehicle, a "holy man" came and "blessed" me and Shree's mother. He tied a string with a red and yellow powder on my wrist, and put the bindi dot of yellow on my forehead.
It took two 'wet-ones' to get it off later.
The back of the guy in the picture (green shirt) is our driver (yeah, the one that was two hours late to pick us up).
It took two 'wet-ones' to get it off later.
The back of the guy in the picture (green shirt) is our driver (yeah, the one that was two hours late to pick us up).
I stopped for a moment under this arbor to get out of the blazing heat of the sun, and Shree's dad decided it was a 'Kodak moment."
Let's see just how many people we can fit under one little arbor. This time Shree is the photographer because Daddy didn't want to be left out.
Shree was testing the new camera we had taken as a gift for his dad, and spent some time following everyone around, snapping them when they didn't expect it.
One of the places we went on our outing with the driver was The Aquarium. They did not permit pictures inside, so there is only this one from the outside. I guess they didn't want us scaring the fish with the flash. :)
Then it was home and Tea Time. Just how many people does it take in one tiny kitchen to make tea? Shree took the photo to prove it, as least for this one time, that it takes five well-intentioned people to make tea. I didn't have the heart to tell them that I am not a big fan of tea with milk in it. I drank it anyway and didn't say anything. (Did I mention this was only my second trip to India and second time to see them? We were still in that "getting to know you" phase.) Eeyore and I were on good behavior. :)

Deepak seems to be really enjoying his tea.
I teased him that he was drinking something other than tea, from the look on his face.
The rest of the time, we just spent with Shree's family. Of course, Shree and I took off a time or two on our own to see parts of Mumbai that he frequented when he lived there. We visited his college, where we were thrown out because we weren't students there and where they lived when his dad worked for BARC. Then back "home" to Singapore on Xmas day.
Singapore - Chinese New Year, Jan 24, 2001
There are mostly only photos here for this one. I'll let them speak for themselves. Enjoy!
Shree at the Lotus gardens.
The ceiling of the building. Awesome!
Singapore Wedding - April 1st, 2000
OUR INTERNATIONAL WEDDING PARTY:
Everyone, starting from the left:
On the way to the Registry of Marriages (where everyone is required to do it), we had arranged for a taxi to pick us up. I was nervous about being in a saree for the first time, and my biggest fear was for it to fall off. Five yards of silk simply wrapped around me and thrown over my shoulder isn't exactly the way I feel "dressed."
So, it was time to go down to wait for the taxi to come and we all were standing on the sidewalk. When you order a cab, the company gives you the cab number so you know it when it arrives and that is what Shree was looking for. I hear him say, as I am fussing over my five yards of silk, "Here it is!" I look up to see it pass us, with the driver turning completely around in his seat to stare at the blonde in the rainbow-colored saree. Also, we saw the realization on his face that it was us he was there to pick up. We watched as he went through the light to the next place that he could turn around and then pass us again, on the other side of the medium to get to the next turn-around spot to get back to us. So, finally we had our cab. In Shree's haste to get in, he sat on the "tail" of my saree (the rest of the part that gets thrown over the shoulder at the end) and I felt everything I was wearing shift. I screamed and said, "OH GAWD, this thing is coming off." A smiling cab driver immediately turned around to say, "What can I do to help?" as an irate husband-to-be told him curtly just to drive, he'd take care of it. We both came to find out the zillion pins I'd made Prakash's wife fix it up in had done their job and no harm was done to my wrapped up strip of silk. Relieved about that, then I fretted we'd now be late for our own wedding (which we almost were).
Prakash and family took a second cab behind us and somehow managed to get there before we did. (I think the cab driver took the long way, on purpose, to drag things out as long as possible.) Matter of fact, EVERYONE was there before us. I barely got through the door before they were calling us for our turn. David stood up for me, as my family and witness to the marriage, and Prakash stood up for Shree. Moments later, it was over and I'd managed to say Shree's whole name for the first time as I promised to love, honor and cherish him.
This was our first wedding (a second one was done in U.S.A. a few years later to satisfy immigration requirements), but this first one, our "April Fool's" one, will always be my favorite memory.
The Vows are >>here<<
Everyone, starting from the left:
Prakash and his wife (Indian),
Kamaljit (British Indian),
Kamaljit (British Indian),
David Lim and his wife (Chinese),
me (American) and Shree (Indian)
with Aditya and Payal (Prakash's kids),
then James and his wife (Scottish),
Sean's wife (Malaysian)
(Sean, British, is the one taking the photo)
and S.C. Tan (Singaporean)
So, it was time to go down to wait for the taxi to come and we all were standing on the sidewalk. When you order a cab, the company gives you the cab number so you know it when it arrives and that is what Shree was looking for. I hear him say, as I am fussing over my five yards of silk, "Here it is!" I look up to see it pass us, with the driver turning completely around in his seat to stare at the blonde in the rainbow-colored saree. Also, we saw the realization on his face that it was us he was there to pick up. We watched as he went through the light to the next place that he could turn around and then pass us again, on the other side of the medium to get to the next turn-around spot to get back to us. So, finally we had our cab. In Shree's haste to get in, he sat on the "tail" of my saree (the rest of the part that gets thrown over the shoulder at the end) and I felt everything I was wearing shift. I screamed and said, "OH GAWD, this thing is coming off." A smiling cab driver immediately turned around to say, "What can I do to help?" as an irate husband-to-be told him curtly just to drive, he'd take care of it. We both came to find out the zillion pins I'd made Prakash's wife fix it up in had done their job and no harm was done to my wrapped up strip of silk. Relieved about that, then I fretted we'd now be late for our own wedding (which we almost were).
Prakash and family took a second cab behind us and somehow managed to get there before we did. (I think the cab driver took the long way, on purpose, to drag things out as long as possible.) Matter of fact, EVERYONE was there before us. I barely got through the door before they were calling us for our turn. David stood up for me, as my family and witness to the marriage, and Prakash stood up for Shree. Moments later, it was over and I'd managed to say Shree's whole name for the first time as I promised to love, honor and cherish him.
This was our first wedding (a second one was done in U.S.A. a few years later to satisfy immigration requirements), but this first one, our "April Fool's" one, will always be my favorite memory.
The Vows are >>here<<
Brunei - Our First Anniversary, Part 4: Shopping Center
What trip to a foreign country would not be complete without a shopping outing?
The entrance to one of the largest shopping centers in Brunei, also a gift to the people from the Sultan. You can see the fountain in the center of the entrance. There is a staircase circling the fountain.
Our tour guide, provided to us by the Royal Brunei Airlines. He is also the source of all the information I've included here with the pics. He was quite surprised that I wanted a photo of him. Why? He asked. Well, after all, he'd been so nice to us and taken us every where, and most importantly, put up with my millions of questions, answering them so patiently. So, I wanted something to remember him by, and here it is, his photo.
Above him you can see the Bata shop, where I got my new shoes.
Behind the main entrance fountain, there is an entrance to a courtyard, with another fountain with five points.
There is an exact replica of the first shopping center facing the other one, with more shops and restaurants. We ate at an Italian restaurant to the left of this pic, and it was some of the best Italian food I've even eaten. Imagine that, great Italian food in an Asian country.
With the fountain that is pictured above this pic behind me, the view of one of the mosques from one side of the courtyard.
Then back to our 5-star motel (also courtesy of the Royal Brunei Airlines) to rest from all this running around.
(Did I mention we won this trip?)
Brunei = Our First Anniversary, Part 3: The Venice of Brunei
Brunei ~ Water Village, the "Venice of Brunei"
These people live on the water 24/7. Their houses are connected by walkways and they even have their own shops, and their own mosque. They can only be reached by the "water taxi" and very seldom come to land, with many of the elderly people never leaving the dwellings to come to dry land at all. There are shops behind us, which are the oldest in Brunei, and the few people who do come to dry land get whatever goods that they cannot get from the shops in their own village, then go back. And if you turn the corner to the right, you'll be in front of one of the largest shopping centers in Brunei, a gift to the people from the Sultan. We were told that the water taxi charge was quite "expensive", and then was informed that the charge was 50 cents, and could go as high as a whole dollar. :)
I wish we could have gotten closer, but our guide was not permitting us the time to go out on one of the water taxis. And I was not dressed for a boat outing anyway. All three of these pics were taken from inside the car, which we talked the driver into stopping along side the road to get (in traffic, I may add--which is why there are only three pics of the Water Village).
This pic shows the type of plank walkways which connect the houses in the villages. I'd fall off of it before I got two steps made. So guess it was a good idea after all that we were not allowed the time to go. But the up side to it would have been, in this heat, I'd have been dry in 10 minutes.
These people live on the water 24/7. Their houses are connected by walkways and they even have their own shops, and their own mosque. They can only be reached by the "water taxi" and very seldom come to land, with many of the elderly people never leaving the dwellings to come to dry land at all. There are shops behind us, which are the oldest in Brunei, and the few people who do come to dry land get whatever goods that they cannot get from the shops in their own village, then go back. And if you turn the corner to the right, you'll be in front of one of the largest shopping centers in Brunei, a gift to the people from the Sultan. We were told that the water taxi charge was quite "expensive", and then was informed that the charge was 50 cents, and could go as high as a whole dollar. :)
I wish we could have gotten closer, but our guide was not permitting us the time to go out on one of the water taxis. And I was not dressed for a boat outing anyway. All three of these pics were taken from inside the car, which we talked the driver into stopping along side the road to get (in traffic, I may add--which is why there are only three pics of the Water Village).
Brunei - Our First Anniversary, Part 2: One of the mosques
The domes on this mosque's towers are real gold. There are only seven (if I remember the number correctly) in the world with gold domes, and all seven of them are in Brunei, gifts from the Sultan to his people.
This mosque is one of 29 mosques in Brunei, one mosque for each of the prior 28 sultans of Brunei and the current one, which is the 29th. The Sultan randomly visits all the different mosques for his prayers, to give an opportunity to the people to see him, and not to show favoritism to just one mosque.
And, also, the design on the towers is made by small tiles laid in this design, work I am sure was quite tedious, but beautiful in its resulting effect. Awesome to think of how many tiles it took to build this, plus all the marble.
The entrance, where I had to remove my shoes and give the camera to the guards.
Pics were not allowed in the mosque itself. I also had to cover my hair, in Muslim tradition.
And of course, I couldn't take pictures of all the brass inlay in the wood of the inside of the mosque......
There is a fountain below these windows, which would be on the women's side. The women's side would hold about 600, the men's side is large enough to hold over 2000, I think they said. Below it was the library and a large classroom, where couples take classes in preparation for marriage. There were five men there that day, when we peeked inside.
These are the fountains in front of the Sultan's entrance (shown below), they are similar to the others outside the main entrance, but the main fountains had fish living in them..
This particular entrance is used by the Sultan, and the gates behind the fountains are only opened when he visits this particular mosque for his prayers. The entire mosque is surrounded by black wrought iron fence, trimmed with gold.
The Sultan's entrance to the mosque. The fountains pictured above are behind me while I am taking this pic. There are 29 steps to the mosque, one step for each sultan of Brunei. The escalator between the twin staircases that the Sultan uses is covered today. These steps are white marble, but the main entrance has black marble, circling around a series of five fountains, each with a center light a different color, to signify the five daily prayer times of the Muslim religion.
From the parking lot, before getting in the car to leave. The inside is even more beautiful than the outside. It was a shame we were not permitted to photograph.
So, if you ever wondered what it was like to be a rich sultan with your own country, this gives you an idea.
This mosque is one of 29 mosques in Brunei, one mosque for each of the prior 28 sultans of Brunei and the current one, which is the 29th. The Sultan randomly visits all the different mosques for his prayers, to give an opportunity to the people to see him, and not to show favoritism to just one mosque.
And, also, the design on the towers is made by small tiles laid in this design, work I am sure was quite tedious, but beautiful in its resulting effect. Awesome to think of how many tiles it took to build this, plus all the marble.
Pics were not allowed in the mosque itself. I also had to cover my hair, in Muslim tradition.
And of course, I couldn't take pictures of all the brass inlay in the wood of the inside of the mosque......
There is a fountain below these windows, which would be on the women's side. The women's side would hold about 600, the men's side is large enough to hold over 2000, I think they said. Below it was the library and a large classroom, where couples take classes in preparation for marriage. There were five men there that day, when we peeked inside.
These are the fountains in front of the Sultan's entrance (shown below), they are similar to the others outside the main entrance, but the main fountains had fish living in them..
This particular entrance is used by the Sultan, and the gates behind the fountains are only opened when he visits this particular mosque for his prayers. The entire mosque is surrounded by black wrought iron fence, trimmed with gold.
From the parking lot, before getting in the car to leave. The inside is even more beautiful than the outside. It was a shame we were not permitted to photograph.
So, if you ever wondered what it was like to be a rich sultan with your own country, this gives you an idea.
Brunei - Our First Anniversary, Part 1
Brunei is a small country located on part of a larger island which is also Malaysia. Its major resource is oil, with Shell, which is the only thing it exports. Population (when we were there) is around 300,000-360,000 residents, which, as far as I can remember, includes the foreign workers. One third, or about 100,000 people or so, work for the government. The rest are in private sectors. The poverty level is 0%. The country is ruled by a Sultan, the 29th, which on his birthday in 2001 was 54 years old. He has about 30 or so names, none of which I could remember, or pronounce. He has two queens, the first through an arranged marriage, in 1967 at the age of 20, and when he was crowned prince. Not bad, to be Crown Prince of Brunei and Husband all in one day. The second queen is a former airline hostess for Royal Brunei Airlines, and I found it interesting that our tour guide referred to it as "they made love in the air and then got married". My first response was quite different than the one he meant, as our interpretation of "making love" is quite different. He meant, to put it into a simpler, more familiar term for me, that they fell in love in the air. Shoot, and here I got excited for nothing. :)
The Sultan is well respected by his people. He gives them gifts that can be used and enjoyed by all, such as huge parks, with picnic areas, fountains, rides, and many things for family outings. He has gifted them with shopping centers, real gold-domed mosques, and makes their lives as happy and comfortable as possible. I asked our guide about housing, and was told that if someone could not afford a home, the government built them one, charged them perhaps $100 or so a month for it, and after 30 years, it was given to them. When asked about unemployment, we were told by the guide that if someone had no job, then one was created for them. We were also told that there is no income or sales tax. Almost all the people had their own cars, and browsing in the grocery store in front of our hotel proved that the food was quite reasonable. I bought a baked potato for fifty cents and got two pieces of pizza for $1.20, to give an idea of the pricing. And my Bata sandals, imported from India, were $16. And also remember that Singapore and Brunei's money are valued at about the same, and it takes almost two dollars to equal one US dollar (approx $1.82 Singapore dollar to $1 US). So figuring it that way, I paid more like a little over a quarter for the potato, and about 65 cents for the two slices of pizza. The same grocery store had a bulletin board near the entrance that advertised an almost new BMW for sale at $18k or "best offer."
All the public places we visited displayed a portrait of the Sultan, with his wives on either side. We were told it was because of the deep respect and affection the people had for their Sultan. The country is what the guide called a monarchy (BIM, but as he added, does not mean "Men In Black"), but its people are evidently quite happy, and I could see why. It is a beautiful place. Everything everywhere is clean and you see no garbage--it is almost as though the leaves were afraid to mar the beauty of the country by falling on the ground. And every bush and flower are trimmed to perfection, everywhere. It was humid, until it rained the second day we were there, a regular tropical storm with lightning and thunder and the heavy rains that came with it. But after the sky was finished with its fury, the weather was quite pleasant. The temperature there is similar to Singapore, although Singapore is closer to the equator. It was around 31-33 Celsius, or about 90 F or so, which is about the same as Singapore. I think the only thing which varies in any great degree in either place is the humidity. And sometimes the humidity can be very bad.
We had gone by the palace, and the only thing we could see was the entrance (above) and even that from across the street. We were told the palace had hundreds of rooms (I forgot how many he said), and housed 60 people, the Sultan and his two Queens, their children, and immediate family. We were also told that there were 1000 people who took care of these 60 ones. The outside of the palace was guarded by the police, which we could see from the road. Our guide said the interior of the palace was protected by armed guards. The park is also close to the palace, and in our visit there we also saw police guarding the entrances and gates. It is not surprising that the crime rate is very low there. The people are well taken care of, so we were told that the crime came mostly from foreigners.
We went to the park, but I forgot to take the camera. It was very beautiful, just as elaborately done as everything else in Brunei. It had a beautiful carousel, much like the one back home in Dollywood, which had been rescued from England. We also went to a museum, which had many of the dresses worn by the Sultan and the Queens for certain ceremonies, plus gifts from foreign dignitaries and the chariots used when the Sultan was crowned prince, etc... But here, again, we were not permitted the camera.
The thing I liked most about Brunei, besides its friendly people and beauty everywhere you looked, was the fact that 70% of the country is rain forest. It is a rich country, with a rich Sultan, but the people are happy and content, and the Sultan takes care of his people. It is a Muslim country, but as our guide said, it is not fanatically so. We were told that the Sultan respected other religions as well, and pointed it out as we passed a Catholic school, with the parents there picking up their children. The government employees have an hour and half lunch times, to allow them to pick up their children from school, and go home for lunch. There were busses and "teksi", but not needed so much for the people to get around. Most of the homes were landed, very nice single-family dwellings, and all the ones I saw had cars in the driveway.
Most of the times when we ate in the restaurants, we were either the only ones there, or one of the only ones there, but irregardless, the food was excellent. Our hotel staff were very friendly and eager to help us out in finding a place to eat, or somewhere to go, and they were also the ones to arrange out outings and provide the driver. And I just loved being in the less crowded place, after being jam-packed with everyone else in Singapore....
I would have never thought I would have felt so much at home, so far from home. I actually hated to leave.
The Sultan is well respected by his people. He gives them gifts that can be used and enjoyed by all, such as huge parks, with picnic areas, fountains, rides, and many things for family outings. He has gifted them with shopping centers, real gold-domed mosques, and makes their lives as happy and comfortable as possible. I asked our guide about housing, and was told that if someone could not afford a home, the government built them one, charged them perhaps $100 or so a month for it, and after 30 years, it was given to them. When asked about unemployment, we were told by the guide that if someone had no job, then one was created for them. We were also told that there is no income or sales tax. Almost all the people had their own cars, and browsing in the grocery store in front of our hotel proved that the food was quite reasonable. I bought a baked potato for fifty cents and got two pieces of pizza for $1.20, to give an idea of the pricing. And my Bata sandals, imported from India, were $16. And also remember that Singapore and Brunei's money are valued at about the same, and it takes almost two dollars to equal one US dollar (approx $1.82 Singapore dollar to $1 US). So figuring it that way, I paid more like a little over a quarter for the potato, and about 65 cents for the two slices of pizza. The same grocery store had a bulletin board near the entrance that advertised an almost new BMW for sale at $18k or "best offer."
All the public places we visited displayed a portrait of the Sultan, with his wives on either side. We were told it was because of the deep respect and affection the people had for their Sultan. The country is what the guide called a monarchy (BIM, but as he added, does not mean "Men In Black"), but its people are evidently quite happy, and I could see why. It is a beautiful place. Everything everywhere is clean and you see no garbage--it is almost as though the leaves were afraid to mar the beauty of the country by falling on the ground. And every bush and flower are trimmed to perfection, everywhere. It was humid, until it rained the second day we were there, a regular tropical storm with lightning and thunder and the heavy rains that came with it. But after the sky was finished with its fury, the weather was quite pleasant. The temperature there is similar to Singapore, although Singapore is closer to the equator. It was around 31-33 Celsius, or about 90 F or so, which is about the same as Singapore. I think the only thing which varies in any great degree in either place is the humidity. And sometimes the humidity can be very bad.
We had gone by the palace, and the only thing we could see was the entrance (above) and even that from across the street. We were told the palace had hundreds of rooms (I forgot how many he said), and housed 60 people, the Sultan and his two Queens, their children, and immediate family. We were also told that there were 1000 people who took care of these 60 ones. The outside of the palace was guarded by the police, which we could see from the road. Our guide said the interior of the palace was protected by armed guards. The park is also close to the palace, and in our visit there we also saw police guarding the entrances and gates. It is not surprising that the crime rate is very low there. The people are well taken care of, so we were told that the crime came mostly from foreigners.
We went to the park, but I forgot to take the camera. It was very beautiful, just as elaborately done as everything else in Brunei. It had a beautiful carousel, much like the one back home in Dollywood, which had been rescued from England. We also went to a museum, which had many of the dresses worn by the Sultan and the Queens for certain ceremonies, plus gifts from foreign dignitaries and the chariots used when the Sultan was crowned prince, etc... But here, again, we were not permitted the camera.
The thing I liked most about Brunei, besides its friendly people and beauty everywhere you looked, was the fact that 70% of the country is rain forest. It is a rich country, with a rich Sultan, but the people are happy and content, and the Sultan takes care of his people. It is a Muslim country, but as our guide said, it is not fanatically so. We were told that the Sultan respected other religions as well, and pointed it out as we passed a Catholic school, with the parents there picking up their children. The government employees have an hour and half lunch times, to allow them to pick up their children from school, and go home for lunch. There were busses and "teksi", but not needed so much for the people to get around. Most of the homes were landed, very nice single-family dwellings, and all the ones I saw had cars in the driveway.
Most of the times when we ate in the restaurants, we were either the only ones there, or one of the only ones there, but irregardless, the food was excellent. Our hotel staff were very friendly and eager to help us out in finding a place to eat, or somewhere to go, and they were also the ones to arrange out outings and provide the driver. And I just loved being in the less crowded place, after being jam-packed with everyone else in Singapore....
I would have never thought I would have felt so much at home, so far from home. I actually hated to leave.
Singapore - The Beginning
It all began here. Well, the Sathe version of it anyway. This is where I met Shree.
I came to Singapore in October of 1999. I had never flown before, much less traveled out of the country, so this was a HUGE experience for me. Singapore is beautiful - orchids grow wild here. We lived near the MRT exchange of Jurong East. The photo shown here is the section of Singapore that you'd see as a tourist and is referred to as "downtown" Singapore, the section between the MRT stops of City Hall and Raffles Place. The lighted areas you see are the restaurants lining the boat quays.
< This is where we lived. I walked across this field to get to the MRT. Many times it was full of birds doing whatever birds do when I passed through. This area was beautiful and I learned my way around Singapore from here.

The next photo is a view of Jurong East from the top of the JTC building.
We lived in two different "flats" in the same area until around 2003 when we shifted to Tampines, which was nearer to the airport, where Shree's NuWater project was located. By the time we moved to Tampines, I was preparing to come to U.S. to file Shree's papers, so I only shared that particular location with him a short time. It was from there he immigrated to U.S., in January 2004, where I was waiting for him. However beautiful our Tampines flat was, my fondest memories of Singapore were from Jurong East, where we met.
I came to Singapore in October of 1999. I had never flown before, much less traveled out of the country, so this was a HUGE experience for me. Singapore is beautiful - orchids grow wild here. We lived near the MRT exchange of Jurong East. The photo shown here is the section of Singapore that you'd see as a tourist and is referred to as "downtown" Singapore, the section between the MRT stops of City Hall and Raffles Place. The lighted areas you see are the restaurants lining the boat quays.
< This is where we lived. I walked across this field to get to the MRT. Many times it was full of birds doing whatever birds do when I passed through. This area was beautiful and I learned my way around Singapore from here.
The next photo is a view of Jurong East from the top of the JTC building.
We lived in two different "flats" in the same area until around 2003 when we shifted to Tampines, which was nearer to the airport, where Shree's NuWater project was located. By the time we moved to Tampines, I was preparing to come to U.S. to file Shree's papers, so I only shared that particular location with him a short time. It was from there he immigrated to U.S., in January 2004, where I was waiting for him. However beautiful our Tampines flat was, my fondest memories of Singapore were from Jurong East, where we met.
Just thinking
Being I am new to the blogging thing, I decided to go see what other people do with their blogs. Ummm, interesting. Seems there are no limit to what you can do with a blog, some more interesting than others. One thing I noticed immediately is this one needs a new name - a good one. One that describes what this one will be without boring you to death before you get here, to see what it's all about.
Another thing I noticed was most blogs are about things that people do, and apparently do well. What do I do? Well, I don't do a lot of the things I found available for my instruction, but I have to have something I do that might have some small value to someone else enough they'd want to read about it. Maybe... I can do many things well, but they would be a challenge of how to blog about them. My original idea for this blog was to write about things I've seen and places I've been. Writing is something I've done for the past ten years (professionally, that is), so might was well start with that. If something else I do well surfaces, well I'll deal with it at that time. For now, I'll just stick with the writing theme.
Now, we are back at the name. "A Day in the Life of..." worked well for a subsection of a newsletter. A short sharing of experiences abroad, as they happened, but I don't feel it suits a blog well. Catchy name, eh? Now what would that be? I was amazed at the names I found for blogs I ran through to see what this was all about. I was never good at names or titles. Somewhere along the road of life I lost that part of my imagination. This may take me a few days to find one that I can live with, and think you as the reader can too, so bear with me. Until then, I'll try sticking things there until I get the magic one.... Unimaginative, I agree, but it will have to do for now.
Another thing I noticed was most blogs are about things that people do, and apparently do well. What do I do? Well, I don't do a lot of the things I found available for my instruction, but I have to have something I do that might have some small value to someone else enough they'd want to read about it. Maybe... I can do many things well, but they would be a challenge of how to blog about them. My original idea for this blog was to write about things I've seen and places I've been. Writing is something I've done for the past ten years (professionally, that is), so might was well start with that. If something else I do well surfaces, well I'll deal with it at that time. For now, I'll just stick with the writing theme.
Now, we are back at the name. "A Day in the Life of..." worked well for a subsection of a newsletter. A short sharing of experiences abroad, as they happened, but I don't feel it suits a blog well. Catchy name, eh? Now what would that be? I was amazed at the names I found for blogs I ran through to see what this was all about. I was never good at names or titles. Somewhere along the road of life I lost that part of my imagination. This may take me a few days to find one that I can live with, and think you as the reader can too, so bear with me. Until then, I'll try sticking things there until I get the magic one.... Unimaginative, I agree, but it will have to do for now.
Monday, March 14, 2011
...a blonde in Singapore - Birds
One of the first stories I shared was regarding my new accommodations in Singapore. Coming from a culture where we keep everything in that is supposed to be in and everything out that is supposed to be out, I was greatly amused by the lack of screens on the windows. When you opened the windows, you were open in a true sense of the word. You could just fall out the window if you wanted to. So, anyway, one morning, I came out of the bedroom into the kitchen to find I was not alone. Sure, Shree had gone to his office, but it wasn't him I found in the kitchen, but a whole flock of birds. BIG ONES. They were using the backs of the dining room chairs as perches and seemed quite content to be sitting there. Maybe they were waiting for breakfast, I don't know. There I stood, looking at them looking back at me. Then it was as if they all decided at the exact same time to fly out the window, and they were gone. Ummm, I thought, interesting...and forgot about it.
Later, I was sitting in front of the TV, trying to figure which of the total of three channels that broadcast in English out of the 70 we had available that I wanted to watch, one of these birds, or perhaps a friend or relative of it, decided to fly through the kitchen window, straight through the house and back out the living room window (a shortcut for it, I suppose). Only problem was, I was in its flight pattern. You've never lived until you've been hit in the head by a flying (huge) bird while watching TV on your living room couch. I would also guess it wasn't a piece of cake for the bird either.
Later, I was telling my friend Bill, back in Tennessee, about the bird thing and his immediate comment was, "Birds, in your house, BIRDS!" Yep, I answered. Next he said, "Kathy, get your a$$ back on the plane and come back home." All through the phone conversation, he kept saying, "Birds! I can't believe it, birds flying in your house." I thought, if you are flipping out about the birds, I don't dare tell you about the lizards...
A disclaimer, of sorts to anyone living in the countries I will be writing about: I mean no disrespect. These are just experiences I am sharing, and what reaction I had at the time they happened.
This post dedicated to Bill.
Later, I was sitting in front of the TV, trying to figure which of the total of three channels that broadcast in English out of the 70 we had available that I wanted to watch, one of these birds, or perhaps a friend or relative of it, decided to fly through the kitchen window, straight through the house and back out the living room window (a shortcut for it, I suppose). Only problem was, I was in its flight pattern. You've never lived until you've been hit in the head by a flying (huge) bird while watching TV on your living room couch. I would also guess it wasn't a piece of cake for the bird either.
Later, I was telling my friend Bill, back in Tennessee, about the bird thing and his immediate comment was, "Birds, in your house, BIRDS!" Yep, I answered. Next he said, "Kathy, get your a$$ back on the plane and come back home." All through the phone conversation, he kept saying, "Birds! I can't believe it, birds flying in your house." I thought, if you are flipping out about the birds, I don't dare tell you about the lizards...
A disclaimer, of sorts to anyone living in the countries I will be writing about: I mean no disrespect. These are just experiences I am sharing, and what reaction I had at the time they happened.
This post dedicated to Bill.
A Day in the Life of...
Years ago (has it been that long?), a friend suggested I do a section of my weekly emailed newsletter (which started the whole process of becoming an editor) about "a day in the life of..." At first, I thought it was a crazy thing to do and no one would want to read it except close friends and family. Why? I was living in Singapore. Not as a tourist, in the center of town, but where the local Singapore people lived, ate, worked, etc. It was an experience that many of my friends found amusing and some found to be in the "oh gawd, you're kidding" category. But nonetheless, it did become the most favorite part of my emails and when it was lacking, complaints were made wanting to know where the funny stories were. Also at that time (pre-editor period) that a magazine publisher in Canada that I'd been writing for said, "Kathy, you should do a blog." Blog? I asked, what for? So, here I am, although years later than the suggestion was made, beginning a blog. Whoo-hoo!
Why now? You may wonder. Well, I'll take a brief moment to briefly explain. I am not really one to go into much detail about my personal life, so I won't go there now, but will add that after many weeks of heavy therapy and four surgeries in the past two years I have gotten to where I am now. Which is, you may ask? Well, not one to take anything sitting (or lying) down, I am a fighter. I refuse to accept that this is as good as it is going to get and so I trudge on.
But the biggest reason is: I have a 5 year old son. Just in case - I want to leave something behind that will allow him to at least get to know his mother a little bit, just in case it's the only way he can learn it. I've been told by my readers that I have a "warm" way of expressing my words and hope that, perhaps, someone else can get some enjoyment from it too, along the way, and also, maybe encourage someone else facing hard times in their (health) life that determination can get you going on your way. It may not get you where you want to be totally, but it will help you go in the right direction. So, with all this said, let us begin - a day in the life....my life, as I have experienced it.
Why now? You may wonder. Well, I'll take a brief moment to briefly explain. I am not really one to go into much detail about my personal life, so I won't go there now, but will add that after many weeks of heavy therapy and four surgeries in the past two years I have gotten to where I am now. Which is, you may ask? Well, not one to take anything sitting (or lying) down, I am a fighter. I refuse to accept that this is as good as it is going to get and so I trudge on.
But the biggest reason is: I have a 5 year old son. Just in case - I want to leave something behind that will allow him to at least get to know his mother a little bit, just in case it's the only way he can learn it. I've been told by my readers that I have a "warm" way of expressing my words and hope that, perhaps, someone else can get some enjoyment from it too, along the way, and also, maybe encourage someone else facing hard times in their (health) life that determination can get you going on your way. It may not get you where you want to be totally, but it will help you go in the right direction. So, with all this said, let us begin - a day in the life....my life, as I have experienced it.
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