“And, to entertain yourself, what do you do around here? I don't need you to tell me everything there is to know about the city today, OK, Josele? You must have some fun, too, anything worth mentioning?”
“A lot of things,” Damaso replied. “In Singapore you're not going to get bored, that's for sure. There are all kinds of activities: from amazing flight simulators, horse racing, casinos, amusement parks, hiking trails, museums, shopping malls and, of course, hundreds of pubs and clubs where you can go out and meet people, especially a girl after what Cristina did to you.” My face showed how much I agreed with the latter. I felt like getting back to my crazy times, when what mattered was to end up with a girl no matter who. “Close to work, on the other side of the park, is one of the main strips. A street called Mohamed Sultan Road which is full of clubs and discos. Twenty minutes’ walk. And there's also golf across Marina Bay, of course!”
“I was wondering when you were gonna mention golf. I'm sure you looked into it before you even got here. How to become a member of a golf club around here and where to buy bread in the mornings.” I laughed.
“Do you have any idea what it feels like to shoot a hole in one? Neither do I, but I keep trying.”
“You know him so well David,” Josele said laughing. “As soon as he arrived, he asked the taxi driver on his way from the airport. And once a year they have Formula 1 races, of course. I think it's in September and we were told that it's amazing, because they race around the city at night; so, if we get a chance we should go, even if you don't like races very much, because the atmosphere alone I think it’s worth it.”
“But how long have you been here? You had time to do all these things?”
“No, man,” Josele laughed. The bars yes, of course; but the rest of the things we were told about by colleagues who have been here longer. Now that you're here, I'm sure we'll move more.”
“Man, I also hope to get out a little, too. Especially if it's in good company.”
“Do you mean us or some pretty girl?”
We all laughed hard. It was clear that the entire time they were in the United States we had not lost the complicity we always had in our projects together in Spain. Especially with Josele.
Good times were on the way.
Singapore 3
Next day we went out together for a walk around town. I really wanted to see the atmosphere of the country.
As I wanted to feel useful, I took the garbage bags to throw them away, but Josele intercepted me at the door.
“Where are you going with the garbage?”
“To throw it away. I saw a container out there.”
“My God, we have to explain everything to you. Here there are garbage treatment facilities on every block. You throw the trash down the kitchen chute, under the microwave, and it goes where it’s supposed to go. Like the pneumatic waste in Spain.”
“Interesting... and those on the main floors?”
“They leave it at the service door, and it gets picked up by the cleaning staff. No one takes their trash to the dumpster.”
“And they recycle?”
“There are containers for recycling if you want, but almost no one does it.”
“I see. All the trash down the kitchen chute.”
I threw both bags, and we went out. We started with our neighbourhood, Tanglin. The Singaporeans I saw on the street seemed mostly of eastern origin, Chinese, especially, although there were also many Indians and quite a few whose origin I could not identify.
“They are Malaysian,” clarified Josele. “Here people are quieter and more closed off than the Europeans. They also have very strict laws. There are countless prohibitions. Some can be shocking to us, and if you fail to follow them, you will be punished without hesitation. Everyone learns fast to be respectful, the easy way or the hard way.”
“I like that.”
“We already knew that. With how rigid you are....”
It was true that I was, but it hadn't always been that way.
We went to the right, leaving behind a pedestrian walkway covered with plants full of purple flowers. After a short while we arrived at a subway station. The type of construction changed, and single-family houses appeared, as if it were an area of semi-detached houses, but each different from the other, both in materials and design. A little further there was a junction with another important street called Bukit Timah which was parallel to a stream and had an elevated bridge.
“On the left is the mall we told you about, Coronation Shopping Plaza,” Josele said. “On the right the botanical gardens.”
“Let´s go right then, we will have plenty of time to see shops,” I replied.
We continued until we reached the main entrance of the botanical park or at least one of the entrances. None of them knew how many there were. I read out of curiosity the information to enter. It was opened from five in the morning to twelve at night every day of the year! In addition, it was free except for the orchids area. That was definitely good public service.
“Why don't we go in?” I said trying to persuade Josele and Damaso to go in and have a look.
“We have plenty of time to see things more thoroughly. For your first day it would be better to get familiar with the rest of the city. Besides, Josele already visited the gardens,” Damaso said.
“Is it true?”
“Of course,” Josele replied immediately. “Make no mistake. I might like to take cool pictures of flowers, but there was more to it. I came on a date with a Japanese woman that was really hot, and I thought bringing her here was going to lead to a sure success. And it sure was.” He winked at us and we laughed.
Truth was that he was absolutely right. There was plenty of time to see everything, so I gave in without complaining too much.
“Look!” Damaso shouted. The bus is coming, we could go see Little India, the Indian quarter of the city.
Josele and I thought it was a good idea and in thirty minutes we were getting off the bus in a whole different neighbourhood. There the demographic distribution took a total turn, with the majority being Indian (or Bangladeshi, because the truth is that I was incapable of differentiating them). The first thing that struck me was that in a park there were hundreds of them sitting on the ground, in small groups, chatting with each other. My friends told me that it was what they did every Sunday. It was their meeting point to talk about what had happened during the week. That said, there was not one single woman. Only men. Interesting. Was it because of their customs, machismo or women were meeting somewhere else? We kept walking until we arrived at a church where a group of Foochow Methodist were praying at the entrance, which surprised me considering we were in an Indian area and one expects to see Hindu temples. This demonstrated the uniqueness of this place. We also saw restaurants, these yes, Indian and, finally, we arrived at the Mustafa Centre. It was a fairly large shopping mall that was open 24 hours. Across from it there were two-storey houses, majority of them had restaurants, jewellery stores and Hindi schools. There was also a temple called Arya Samaj. This one did look Hindu, but I wasn't sure. The entrance had a poster with two men: one bearded with a kind look and the other with a turban and a saint like halo. At both