Week One: Hong Kong Layover and Singapore

Hong Kong:

How people travelled before the age of the Internet is beyond me. Our story would be quite different to be sure. Stepping off the plane in Hong Kong into a 23-hour layover, we had expected that Air Canada would, at the very least, have some advice or offer some assistance to its passengers regarding affordable accommodations. Actually, due to reports from a few different sources, we were expecting that Air Canada would put us up for the night. I am still not convinced that this was a naïve sentiment, though I am kicking myself for not preparing a backup plan. So when we disembarked in Hong Kong, we found ourselves standing in the middle of the airport with nowhere to go and no ideas for finding out where to go. Additionally, we had not slept for approximately 20 hours, and were in no shape for making quick decisions on our feet. Our first instinct was to find Air Canada personnel, of which there were none. Our second instinct was to find an information desk, which was surprisingly low on information: his best suggestion to our request of where to find affordable accommodations was a $160 room because it was the closest to the airport. We were over-tired to be sure, but we were still not in the position to pay that much for the convenience of location. The hotel desks were also not helpful; they were all for high-class hotels, and didn’t volunteer any information about cheaper alternatives. Our third instinct was to find a computer. At this point, communication had not been our strong point, so when we asked a man where we could find a computer and he answered that the café upstairs had internet access, we assumed that he didn’t understand and was pointing us toward Wi-Fi access.

So we are standing in the middle of the Hong Kong airport and we have exhausted all of our resources – at least the ones that we could think of. We decided to go upstairs to the café to ask the people behind the counter if they had any suggestions – at this point we were simply going to question every worker in Hong Kong until we could find someone who understood what we were asking. However, when we got to the top of the escalators, there were three computers sitting right in front of us – apparently the man did understand what we were asking. About two and a half hours later, four hours after we had landed in Hong Kong, we walked into a $67 hotel room – a far cry from $160.

In bed by 10:00pm, we were wide-awake by 6:45am the next morning. Venturing out to find breakfast, we came upon what we assume to be the equivalent of a Hong Kong fast-food restaurant. Our options were limited because we landed on the first day of Chinese New Year, and nearly everything shuts down from the 3^rd and reopens on the 7^th. Finding English on the menu board, but not in the ladies behind the counter, we simply pointed to a noodle bowl with a fried egg and ham. The ham turned out to be more “spam” than ham, and fried eggs are actually very difficult to eat with chopsticks. We struggled through despite the many Chinese people around us were eating with a fork and knife – it is a very odd feeling to be struggling with chopsticks when those who should be pros had defaulted to our utensils of choice.

Singapore:

After our Hong Kong adventures, we made our way back to the airport and onto a double-decker Singapore Airlines airplane. We had fallen for Singapore when they handed us hot-towels and wine upon takeoff.

Singapore is serious when they let visitors in. Had we been the variety of backpackers who simply go with the flow and find accommodation wherever the wind blows them, we would still be in the airport trying to get past immigration. On the immigration card, you must fill in the address where you will be staying. Unfortunately, I had packed the book with my parents’ address in my checked luggage. I did not think anything of it, as the same box was on the Hong Kong immigration card and we left that one blank without consequence. Not so in Singapore. I handed the lady my passport and card and she immediately handed it back to me, asking me for the address I’ll be staying at. I explained that I am staying with my parents, but their address is in my checked luggage. She simply pointed at a bank of phones and told me to go phone for it – in my head I am trying to figure out why she assumes that I would have their phone number on me despite the fact I have packed away their address. Choosing not to express this thought however, I resorted to the more imminent problem: my parents are not actually at home but in Cambodia on holiday. Acutely aware at how far-fetched my story is starting to sound, I am surprised when she briskly tells me to wait until her line is finished before she’ll help me solve my little problem. I am almost 100% sure that this was an intimidation tactic, as the remainder of her line consisted of Matt. Five minutes later, she calls me over and escorts me to the baggage area, where I collect my parents’ address. We both get through immigration, collect the rest of our luggage, ensure the customs agent that we are not carrying cigarettes and go out to meet Laura – James’ girlfriend who is staying with my parents while she finishes high school.

The first thing that hits you is the heat. But aside from the heat, Singapore is a hard city to pin down into a brief description. It is an affluent city, though I don’t get the impression that the majority of its citizens enjoy a healthy bank account. The people here do not fit into any one description either – the ethnic mix is impressive, as is the way that the myriad of cultures coexist and function together peacefully. Beside the street that we are staying on – Bencoolen Street – is a road lined with temples and churches. Standing beside one another, these religious meeting places force their followers to worship peacefully among many different world-views and perspectives. I find this extremely fascinating and quite refreshing. Singapore is this elusive entity that reveals itself moment-by-moment, and only if you are paying close attention. At once modern and forward thinking, it is also filled with time-tested traditions. In other cities I’ve visited, I feel like I can get the sense for what a city stands for, what it is like, how it moves within the first day I am there. There is still a lot to discover, but on the first day you can usually get a feel for the city. I have been here for three full days and I still feel like I am on the cusp of getting a feel for the city.

On the first full day we were here, we walked a few blocks from the apartment into “Little India” and the whole landscape changes. The people change, the smells change, the streets narrow and the architecture changes; it is a city within a city. Having never been to India before, I can only assume that this is a sanitized version of the real thing – but the shift is still noticeable. This is what I mean: Singapore is not just one thing… it is a collage of people, traditions, sights, sounds, smells. It is forever exciting the senses with something new and something old.

Communication challenges:

I must admit that I was not prepared for the difficulty communicating here. Since English seems to the major language among the multitude, I didn’t foresee the many communication issues we’ve navigated so far. A prime example of how tricky it can be is evident through the high percentage of things that come back to me very different from what I ordered. Case and point: I ordered a footlong veggie sub from Subway and received a 6-inch tuna sub - despite my protest at the tuna he was smearing on what was supposed to be a veggie sandwich. It seems that when people don’t understand what you are saying, they just make assumptions about what you might be asking. When we were in Little India, we decided to stop for a drink. Laura suggested that we try mixing Tiger beer (a Singaporean brew) and Sprite together. We ordered three beers and three sprites from the waiter, but he obviously didn’t understand what we were asking for because he came back with two sprites and one beer, the beer was placed directly in front of Matt. This is another thing that happens when communication breaks down: you learn about inherent cultural assumptions. We found it funny that the waiter just assumed that Matt would be the one drinking beer, but mom revealed to me that it is because in India, good girls don’t drink beer. We ended up re-evaluating our order when we realized that he was not coming back with the rest of the sprites and beer, and called him back to order one more beer and two more glasses (it would just be easier to share between us) – and two trips later, we were enjoying our beer and sprite. I am finding that one must be flexible and adventurous when travelling or else you will get bent out of shape about things that don’t really matter in the long run – like veggie subs turned tuna, and assumptions about what one should and should not do as a woman. Further, you will learn so much about what you can and cannot handle when you open yourself up and go with the flow. But be warned – this is easier said than done.

There are so many other stories that I will one day tell… like the heel-clad hiking lady. But these are little memories that will make their way out in conversations back at home. One blog post is too little for me to tell you everything that has turned my head here. But I am sure that there will be many surprising, interesting and shocking things that will make it into future blog posts because Singapore never ceases to amaze with new and wonderful things.