During all the adventures and wanderings since my arrival, there have been underhanded workings and rumblings to locate a place to live. I was collaborating with people to hire an individual to seek out appropriate lodgings that would be sufficient for our combined budgets and commuting needs. Today was the day I met these people and was finally introduced to the individual and we finally started viewing houses. HDBs to be exact - which are government funded housing (that are usually bought up and then rented out at high prices to foolish foreigners like me. Sucka fish!).
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Legalize Me
Tuesday, August 24rd, I became an official student resident of Singapore.
I proceeded through my standard hostel morning ritual of instant black coffee, toasted pb&j, shower, and email check before heading out towards the ICA building. The ICA is the Immigration and Checkpoint Authority of Singapore. All citizen, resident, student, and work visa needs are handled in this giant building. I had been preparing for months to collect the proper paperwork - immigration forms, doctors tests and lab reports, extra passport photos, and passport photocopies. Already I had heard headache inducing stories from others who have spent hours in the DMV-like waiting rooms of the ICA only to discover they were missing some piece of paper or lacking a specific stamp. It was not uncommon for some people to make trip after trip to the ICA building, to fix little document errors or re-take a medical test, just to collect that precious identification card that would make them a legal resident. Once the card was obtained, one would find themselves staring at it's every detail, amazed to have it in their hands, and reflective of all the trouble one went through just to be in that exact moment - holding a Singapore identification card made from about ten cents of plastic.
I proceeded through my standard hostel morning ritual of instant black coffee, toasted pb&j, shower, and email check before heading out towards the ICA building. The ICA is the Immigration and Checkpoint Authority of Singapore. All citizen, resident, student, and work visa needs are handled in this giant building. I had been preparing for months to collect the proper paperwork - immigration forms, doctors tests and lab reports, extra passport photos, and passport photocopies. Already I had heard headache inducing stories from others who have spent hours in the DMV-like waiting rooms of the ICA only to discover they were missing some piece of paper or lacking a specific stamp. It was not uncommon for some people to make trip after trip to the ICA building, to fix little document errors or re-take a medical test, just to collect that precious identification card that would make them a legal resident. Once the card was obtained, one would find themselves staring at it's every detail, amazed to have it in their hands, and reflective of all the trouble one went through just to be in that exact moment - holding a Singapore identification card made from about ten cents of plastic.
A Singapore Monday
I really had nothing planned for my first Monday in Singapore. I was still a day away from my student pass appointment at the ICA building. Furthermore, I had previously begun contacting Realtors for an apartment to live in but was currently playing the waiting game as they got their showings organized. I figured, if anything, it was time for a massive, sweaty hike around the Singapore downtown. Supposedly there was a Taco Bell hidden somewhere in those concrete canyons which I needed to find for shits and giggles and a burrito.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
A Land of Sweat and Sugar
Another night of restless sleep. It didn't help that some of the people in my room were sleep talkers. It's quite entertaining to listen to people talk in their sleep in another language. What were they saying? Probably the same silly shit you would hear if it was English. The language doesn't matter. "Yes, I would like another glass of water. No, you cannot pet my cat. Get away from me with that giant pair of chopsticks." By the noises one girl was making, she was having a bad dream or a really, really good dream...
Saturday, August 21, 2010
First Day in Singapore
I've never slept in such a hard, solid bed as I did my first night in Singapore. I had previously been spoiled by my soft pillow top queen bed back in San Francisco, but now I was in the land of flat beds and straight spines. If anything, my posture will improve.
I woke up at 7am and tried to find my way back to dreams but that was a silly endeavor. I was too messed up by jet lag and new environments. So by 8am I was out of the covers and into the shower. The hotel room I was staying in was very modern, very rigid and very white. The ceiling leaped to a height of about 18 feet to create a very concise box. Within this box-like room was the bathroom/shower separated by huge glass walls. I called this space the aquarium because you could stand and watch whoever was showering or pooping with bored interest - tapping on the glass for amusement and general obnoxious glee. I was alone, so there would be no voyeuristic shenanigans for me.
I woke up at 7am and tried to find my way back to dreams but that was a silly endeavor. I was too messed up by jet lag and new environments. So by 8am I was out of the covers and into the shower. The hotel room I was staying in was very modern, very rigid and very white. The ceiling leaped to a height of about 18 feet to create a very concise box. Within this box-like room was the bathroom/shower separated by huge glass walls. I called this space the aquarium because you could stand and watch whoever was showering or pooping with bored interest - tapping on the glass for amusement and general obnoxious glee. I was alone, so there would be no voyeuristic shenanigans for me.
Cliche Reference to a John Denver Song
My life begins anew in Singapore - a life that started to crown on August 19th at 6:45am and finally gave way to a sweaty, blubbering man-baby on August 21st at 3:00am.
It would have helped the start of the journey if I had gotten a full nights rest, but on second thought, it probably wouldn't have made a difference. When you're up for 24 hours+, your mind has little luck with processing the order of events. That's when your body steps up and pilots the self through whatever situations and conundrums it encounters. The mind just agrees and accepts it. The exhausted mind is indifferent. It cares not for the little old lady that is now sprawled out on the floor because she got in your way as you rushed to retrieve your baggage.
It would have helped the start of the journey if I had gotten a full nights rest, but on second thought, it probably wouldn't have made a difference. When you're up for 24 hours+, your mind has little luck with processing the order of events. That's when your body steps up and pilots the self through whatever situations and conundrums it encounters. The mind just agrees and accepts it. The exhausted mind is indifferent. It cares not for the little old lady that is now sprawled out on the floor because she got in your way as you rushed to retrieve your baggage.
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