Singapore: Thank God We Aren't Drug Traffickers

A gentle nudge to the shoulder from the man to my right woke me out of a catatonic state. I had slept only 2 hours in Macau the night before. The man handed me an immigration form from the flight attendant. Drug Traffickers will be punished by Death in Accordance with Singapore Law. Uhhhh... Welcome to Singapore!

Cymerman's friend Shawn, a Singapore native and Penn '10 alum, greeted us upon arrival at the airport and took us on a brief tour of the city. We made a comment about the immigration forms, which led to this exchange:

Shawn: There was an American who was caned for graffiti a few weeks ago.

Us: What?

Shawn: Graffiti.

Us: No, the punishment.

Shawn: Oh, caned. What did you think I said?

Us: Uh, I don't know? He got beat with a cane?

Shawn: Yea, we have a guy for that.

Okay then.

Shawn took us around the expansive Singapore airport and sent us on the MRT system to the center of the city.

Singapore is the cleanest, strictest, and most orderly country in the world. Sandwiched between Malaysia and Indonesia, Singapore has four official languages, including a confusing dialect of English. The locals have an accent that sounds just like broken English, so it seems like you are speaking to someone who doesn't know English at all even though it is probably their primary language. Very frustrating.

The only problem with our plans for Singapore was that we didn't make any plans for Singapore. So when we reached the center of the city we dragged our bags into Starbucks to connect to the free Wifi and searched for a place to stay. And searched... And searched... And decided to walk to the local hotels and check with reception desks.

Singapore is about 200km north of the equator. Lugging our bags around to search for a place to stay in the stifling heat was about as pleasant as being caned. We didn't bring backpacks, but this experience alone would have justified it. Apparently a major Communications conference begins tomorrow, so all of the hotels were either booked or had jacked up their rates. Remember the clothes that we were wearing in that last Macau photo? As day turned to dusk, they were painted to our bodies. With buckets of sweat pouring down, we walked up to a clean, quaint restaurant overlooking the river of Clark Quay, and asked to be seated for our 6:00pm reservation (Shawn had called earlier). They couldn't find our reservation, so we camped out on the front steps with all of our bags to plan our next move. Turns out this restaurant had another location about a half mile down the river where we had likely made our reservation.

Jeff's friend Peter (Penn '11 and temporary Singapore resident) was supposed to meet us at this restaurant, so we didn't want to leave him and risk missing him, since we had no way of contacting him. How the hell did people live before cell phones? Resigned to missing Peter, we made our way down the river to the restaurant's other location, and they agreed to seat us even though we arrived 45 minutes late for our reservation. I don't think any measurable amount of time elapsed between their agreeing to seat us, and their immediate regret of their decision to seat us. We were seated at the most visible table in the front of the restaurant with a beautiful view of the Singapore River.

We were disgusting. A waitress came by to cover our bags with napkins because they were spilling out from under the table. Unphased, we ordered Chili Crab, a Singapore specialty, and chowed down on free peanuts.

Midway through the meal, the outline of a man... like a ghost emerging from the shadows... appeared on the horizon. It was Peter! (or so Jeff said). He found us! And he was here to rescue us from a likely night in Singaporean prison (I don't think they do the homeless thing in this country). Peter was thrilled to see us (or so he said), and he stood by our side as we returned to Starbucks to do more hotel research.

We settled on a hostel not far from Starbucks and booked the last 3 beds (slumber party with 28 new friends). Peter patiently waited as we dropped our bags and exhausted the last bit of our energy to sit for a late night drink in the beautiful Clark Quay. I was worried about the hostel accommodations but this was easily our best night's sleep of the trip. Now sitting in the spectacularly clean Singapore airport. Hanoi later today.

Do us a favor and let us know.