Nomadic Life, Month One: Singapore

Nomadic Life posts are more personal recaps of what life is really like when you live like a moving target. From personal challenges and triumphs to upcoming travel plans, here’s an insider look into my life out of a suitcase. 

One month ago, I was frantically sorting through the physical products of the last three years of my life, throwing things into boxes or garbage bags and feeling the burn in my calves as I made multiple trips up and down the attic stairs. Then there were last minute phone calls to family on my way to the airport, bated breath as my 65L backpack was thrown onto the baggage scale, and one last way-too-excited selfie.

36 hours later…

I walked out of the Singapore airport with my boyfriend, who was equally excited to see me and the relatively cheap bottle of John Walker I had bought in duty free. It’s a little unbelievable that I’ve been in Singapore for a month. Like most experiences, it feels like so much more time and yet so much less. It’s also been decidedly normal, with days spent working at the computer and crazy Friday nights of grocery shopping, laundry, and Civilization V.

But I don’t want to forget what an incredibly special experience this is that I’m living. And because half the reason I blog is because I have a terrible memory and I need a way to keep track of my own life, here are some of the things I’ve learned after one month of nomadic life.

When you’re about to leave home, all your possessions become inexplicably and emotionally important.

I almost teared up putting my French press into the Goodwill box. Sure, it was a mass-produced piece of plastic with a faulty filter, but do you know how many Brooklyn mornings were spent with that press, relaxing in the sunshine with a book? I was so unable to detach from my cast iron skillet that I buried it in a box of winter clothes so my mom wouldn’t make me give it up. I debated cramming a pair of sparkly gold high heels that I’ve worn exactly twice into my backpack because I adore them so much that I was worried three months apart might cause me separation anxiety.

It makes no logical sense. I’ve spent the last couple years talking about how I can’t wait to live a smaller, simpler life with less stuff to drag around and be dragged down by. And yet I’m stilling hoping my mom doesn’t read this so my skillet remains a secure treasure.

Even a ‘lingua franca’ isn’t the same everywhere.

As an English speaker and teacher, I know this is true. I’m constantly in a discussion (/debate) with other native English-speaking teachers about how things are said in different ways all around the world, and I am fascinated by the idea of a lingua franca and what that means as language learners bring their own dialects, expressions, and perspectives to English.

Part of my job as an ESL teacher is to teach expressions and implicit meanings. So I thought I was a genius when I brought in a lesson about bargaining to my two-person conversation class. Real life situations! Semi-scripted social dances!

My lovely students, two middle-aged Korean housewives, dutifully followed along as we read a conversation between a couple and a vendor haggling over a used table. They identified expressions like “Could you come any lower?” and “That seems a bit pricey” as methods of bringing down price. After I was satisfied that they understood the round-about dance of haggling, I gave them a vendor-customer role play, settling in for an extended negotiation process.

They were efficient, to say the least.

Student S: How much is this clock?

Student R: Ten dollars.

Student S: WHAT? Too expensive!

Student R: (stares at her)

Student S: Can I get a discount?

Student R: Sorry, no discounts.

Student S: So expensive!

Student R: No, not too expensive!

Student S: I only have eight dollars.

Student R: This other clock is eight dollars. You can buy this clock.

Student S: No, I like that one.

Student R: Then come back tomorrow.

They put down their papers and looked at me. Role play over.

“Oh,” I said, a little stunned at their efficiency. “Well, ok. Um, I noticed you didn’t use any of the expressions we talked about.”

They shrugged. “Singapore people are more direct.”

Fair, enough, students. And now I understand that ‘culturally appropriate’ lessons need to go beyond sensitivity concerns.

I “get” all-inclusive resorts.

Never thought it would be for me. Then we spent a weekend on a secluded island off the coast of Malaysia, where we ate dinner barefoot and everyone gathered to watch some of the local guys shimming up the palm trees to knock down coconuts and I found out that giggling at fish while snorkeling is a pretty bad idea.

We also took one of the most terrifying boat trips of my life. When booking island vacations, even though you want to get every minute possible out of your stay, do remember what time the sun sets. After-dark speed boat rides are not for the faint of heart.

Singapore is clean but not sanitized to the point of being sterile.

Every person I talked to about Singapore had the same advice: “Don’t chew any gum!”

Thanks for the helpful hint, everyone.

I didn’t know what to expect from Singapore. I knew it was clean and modern and people said it was strict. There are lists all on the internet of things that aren’t allowed in Singapore, everything from PDA to durians on the MRT. Some of it’s true. But I haven’t felt an overwhelmingly authoritarian atmosphere here in Singapore. I have appreciated how clean it is and that people actually wait for others to get off the MRT before getting on.

And as for sterile and boring, this is one of the most multicultural cities in Southeast Asia! I walked into my first ever Hindu temple in Little India, gawked at the stunning fabrics in the textile stores on Arab Street, eaten authentic food from all around the region, and drank delicious hipster coffee at a shop called Hardware. Because I’ve been working so much, I’ve been sticking to just a few neighborhoods, but I can’t wait to explore more of the varied culture of Singapore!

It is true that there are countless malls, especially in my neighborhood. There’s one over every MRT station. And they’re often interconnected, which means I’ve gotten lost in them countless times. But you actually learn to appreciate them in the heat and humidity, when you walk by the doors and out comes a refreshing swoosh of air conditioning!

Seafood doesn’t taste all that strange.

For the last twenty-nine years of my life, I have spent an enormous amount of energy avoiding seafood. My friends called it my ‘fake allergy,’ but for me it was real. I mean, sort of. Mostly because I psyched myself up terribly about it. But my mom is deathly allergic, so we never had it growing up. I never wanted to ‘discover’ I had inherited the allergy by just eating some seafood, so I actually went to the allergist before leaving and got him to confirm that I’m not allergic.

Since coming to Singapore, I’ve tried prawn dumplings, smoked salmon, fried fish, bacon topped scallops, stingray, and red chili crab and black pepper crab. Not bad for a recent convert. I’m not saying my world has been rocked. In fact, I’m still a little squeamish about eating seafood. But I’m happy to enjoy the local cuisine without wondering if any of it will inadvertently kill me.

Singapore doesn’t have to be expensive.

I write this sitting in a Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf, where I’m guaranteed to have wi-fi so I’ve paid $3.70 for a small cup of coffee. It also can be outrageously expensive. Starbucks will suck you dry if you’re got any kind of fancy coffee addiction and apartment hunting will make you weep. But we’ve quickly adopted eating at the cheap and delicious hawker stands and sought out the most affordable places for a beer. I can get cheap shopping done at Bugis Street, anything from twenty-four key chains for $10 to fresh juice or ice cream for a buck. And many of Singapore’s best attractions are free, from its colorful historic neighborhoods to the modern wonder of Gardens by the Bay.

But the thing that has really impressed me most this month is Singapore itself. It was so downplayed, both by people who have been here and people who haven’t, that I wasn’t expecting much. I was worried about getting bored after three weeks. But now I’m worried that we won’t have time to do all the things we want!

Interested in what’s going on in my nomadic life? Next month it’s going to be Bali, Angkor Wat, and (more) Singapore! Follow me on Snapchat at wayfarersbook!