Holland Village

 

It’s been about three months since moving to Singapore! They have flown by, and I’m slowly getting used to working weird unconventional hours, having a monthly income, eating amazing cheap food for lunch and sweating constantly and profusely. A month ago I moved into my apartment, a place I’ll be living in for at least 18 months. Every time I sign something for a set amount of time (be it the phone plan, the internet plan, the lease, etc.) I have a mini panic attack. Ok maybe not so mini. Day to day I’m excited to live here, but when I see long term, how far away I am from people I love, I get overwhelmed. But overall, I have been extremely lucky with this whole process. 

After living for two months with relatives (with maid service!), I recently moved to Holland Village, which is known as being expat central. My HDB building (Singapore public housing, which I doubt is anything like US public housing) is mostly filled with older folk, so I feel quite safe. I’m still not quite used to calling neighbors “Uncle” or “Auntie.” Across the street there’s a supermarket, drugstore and a 24 hour café that sells good kopi and curry puffs. Behind my building (seen from the window in our living room) are the streets that most people associate with Holland V. It is only about two to three streets separated from the main road with tons of restaurants, high end and low end. However (other than the food courts) these restaurants aren’t known to be the best, but good for expat taste buds. For my birthday, we celebrated at a Mexican restaurant and while the atmosphere was great, the food was as quite subpar (compared to US Mexican food). Often on a Friday or Saturday night the small street will be filled with people, locals and expats alike, outside grabbing a bite, drinking a beer or watching a football game on the television (no, not American football). And during the day the street will be filled with the Ang mo (white expat) wives and me on my day off. It’s a fun atmosphere. This photo is the view from our apartment window.

I guess I'll have to learn to love shrimp now

A few months ago, I wrote this post, not knowing where I’d be next year. Well I still don’t know which bed I’ll be sleeping in, but I do know the country. After a year of trying to be in Southeast Asia, I just about gave up hope and graduated about a month and a half ago without any prospect of a job or relocation. However, an unforeseen job opportunity arose a few weeks ago and, in possibly the most rash decision of my life, I decided to take it. So here I am, preparing to move to Singapore tomorrow and start work next week. I wobble between extreme excitement and nervousness every ten minutes.

I have a lot of goals for myself for the coming months, one of which is to write. To write on this blog, to write creatively, to write privately and to write to friends and family. I’m hoping to visit all these coffee shops, sit down with kopi and write everything I’m seeing and learning.

Singapore has been a country I’ve visited countless times but never lived in. It has been one of my deepest regrets, having gone almost every summer growing up but too young and naïve to care. I always complained about leaving my dad for too long, about the heat, about the lack of spaghetti and burgers, about Singlish. I’m so happy to have a second chance, to see the same country through different eyes -- older and hopefully slightly wiser eyes.

While I am not a fan of Ted Hughes (because of his moral choices not his writing), I can’t help but love his encouragement to his son, “As Buddha says: live like a mighty river. And as the old Greeks said: live as though all your ancestors were living again through you.”

Illustration by my sister, Lauren Monaco.