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It is two in the afternoon and school kids are hopping in and out of the train. It is very busy and crowded near the downtown area. I am at the Bugis MRT station and this place is a total zoo. Tons of people, from school kids to office workers, local shoppers and tourists looking for a bargain, rush in and out of the train. There was no room to wiggle around and get comfortable. I gave my seat to an elderly lady even though my legs were aching a bit. The next stop is Lavender, then Kallang, and the crowd begins to thin out. I actually found an empty seat after Kallang. I was beginning to feel a little better because it was cool inside and my legs were rested. I had bought a small bottle of water along the way from a sidewalk vendor for sixty cents and so my system has been replenished. The train ride to Paya Lebar took about twenty minutes from Bugis. I was looking outside and saw apartment buildings and condos, some industrial plants, schools and temples. The whole scene, although modern, still looks exotic and foreign to me. The size of the buildings, the architecture, the cars and the fact that they drive on the left side, the mosques, the Chinese temples, the people, the color, the smell, the sound and the feel is very different from what I am used to in the United States. It is an experience that makes traveling a truly worthwhile endeavor. I am even crazy enough to suggest that traveling overseas should be required of everyone because it is an education that can’t be taught or bought. You can’t read about a place and understand what it’s like and what it’s all about from a book. You need to go through the process and experience it for yourself because no description from second sources, no matter how accurate and detailed, no matter how nuanced and enlightening, is a substitute for the real thing. Travel books are fun to read but no one ever mistakes them for the real thing. Nor are images on television or the web. All they do is give you some idea of what to expect on your trip. The experience is all yours because everyone sees things differently.

Even though I am tired I am still consciously aware of my environment. I know for a fact that it is late at night the previous day back in the Bay Area while it is mid-afternoon in Singapore. I can feel the heat as I get off the train and on to the Paya Lebar MRT station platform. It is difficult to get used to the heat and humidity when you are used to balmy seventy degree weather like in the Bay Area. It takes at least a month or two to stop sweating profusely from this weather.

I got out on the east side of the station at Tanjong Road and started walking south towards Sims Road. There is a canal alongside the road and one can smell the filth from it as you walk down the street. At this time I had forgotten about my plan to visit Geylang Serai and find some good laksa. I was not hungry at the moment and I was really looking for something else. My sense of direction was also beginning to escape me. I was wandering aimlessly. I had no idea where and how far Geyland Serai is from where I was. I turned right heading west on Sims Avenue. As I watched the people and observed the scenery I am reminded of why this is my favorite district in Singapore. There’s more color here. The smell is real even if it is not always pleasant. There are a lot more Malays although the Chinese still dominate the population. I see shops retailing glass wares and potteries, rattan furnitures, persian rugs, auto repair shops, bicycles ridden by Malays wearing longyis, old Chinese men squatting and spitting. I can smell the aroma form the smoke of cloves favored by Malays and Tamil Indians.

On Sims I pass by Madrasah Wak Tanjong Al-Islamiah, an Islamic school for kids. Many of them have just finished their classes and are now heading home. They come streaming out of the gates in their uniform with the girls wearing Islamic garb, covered from head to foot with only the face exposed. The boys wear black shorts, white shirt and a black fez or skull cap. They are taught to hate Americans. Maybe not.

Sims Avenue runs east-west and is parallel to Geylang Road to the south. In between Sims and Geylang are narrow lanes called lorongs perpendicular to them. Odd numbered lorongs from Lor 41 to Lor 1 run in between Sims and Geylang Road. Even numbered lorongs from Lor 40 to Lor 2 run in between Geylang Road and Guillemard Road to the other side. I turn left on Lor 41 and pass by several houses and apartment buildings before I reach Geylang Road. I turned right on Geylang and walked along a multitudinous array of shops. This is no Orchard Road. People don’t come here to look for designer jeans and overpriced sunglasses. There are no Starbucks, no Tommy Hilfiger, Calvin Klein, Levi-Straus, no Gucci shops or Ferragamo. I thought Ferragamo was a quarterback. In Singapore they think he makes designer shoes. Here in Geylang the name Ferragamo means absolutely nothing but mention Chili Padi and they will gladly point east towards Joo Chiat Road and give you precise directions on where to get the best Perankan style meal in all of Singapore.

The thought of food entered my mind as passed by a coffee shop, called kopitiam, and the smell of coconut milk and chili paste entered my nostrils. I was not hungry at the time but the aroma was so rich and authentic that it made me feel like I was really in southeast Asia. Most of the people inside were older Chinese or Malay drinking coffee, eating noodles and talking. It’s a pretty laid back atmosphere. The streets and the sidewalks are not spiffy clean like downtown Singapore but the people look and feel comfortable is their relaxed environment. Next door to the coffee shop is the ubiquitous 7-Eleven. They are everywhere in Singapore, just like McDonalds, KFC and Burger King. As a matter of fact I saw a KFC just down the corner of Tanjong Katong Road and Sims. They stick out like a sore thumb next to a shop that sells Chinese medicine.

Further down the road on Geylang you will see a hair salon right next to a motorcycle repair shop. Repair men in greasy clothes and dirty hands are sweating profusely as they lift the 750 cc motorbike to untangle the chain. One guy is greasing the bearings while the other is unscrewing the oil sump and drained the fluids into a white plastic bottle. At the hair salon a male hairdresser is rearranging a middle aged woman’s hair, giving some fluff, highlighting it with streaks of red and massaging her cheeks to cheer her up a bit. It’s obvious from the hairdresser’s mannerism that he is gay.

I remember thinking that I was looking for something specific but I couldn’t figure out what it was. I kept on walking and enjoying the atmosphere. The Peranakan style architecture was a delight to see compared to the modern high rises that’s beginning to dominate the islands’ structure. Most of the signs are written in both English and Chinese characters. I noticed that the gas stations were not located on a corner like in the US. Every block seems to have a hawker stall on the corner or a kopitiam. Eating is a big part of Singapore culture and it is no different here in Geylang. As I noticed the coffee shops and the wonderful smell, seeing the food emanating from their stoves began to whet my appetite. Suddenly I remembered that I was looking specifically for that hawker stall that I frequented here several years ago. It was on a corner of a major thoroughfare and one vendor was a nice Malaysian guy whom I had befriended because he made wonderful laksa. I tried in vain to look for it on Geylang Road, a particular structure on a corner that I thought I might recognize it I saw it again. So after walking a few more blocks I became tired and exhausted again. I was not going to find this place today and when I reached Lor 31 I turned right. I walked up to Sims Ave and turned right again, heading for the Paya Lebar MRT station. Now my feet were aching. I only had slippers on and the soles are thinning on the heels. Every step I took felt like the pavement was pounding my joints and it put an intense pressure on my calves and knees. The bottom of my feet felt like it was being poked by the sharp edges of a rock as I step onto a hard object.

I was sweating and the back of my shirt was all wet. I finally reached the MRT station. I sat down on one of the benched in the platform waiting for the MRT. The MRT arrived after five minutes of waiting. The ride back to downtown was uneventful. I stopped at the Raffles City interchange and took the MRT to Dhoby Gaut. As I was about to exit the station at the Dhoby Gaut station it was already raining and was turning into a major downpour. I didn’t have an umbrella so I stayed near the steps of the station and waited for the rain to subside. It was nice in a way because it cooled things off. There was thunder and lightning. The rain was so heavy that visibility was reduced to a few hundred feet. I waited for fifteen minutes until the rain slowed down to a drizzle. I used the underground tunnel from the Dhoby Gaut station to the Plaza Singapura. It was still raining a little bit so I walked around inside Plaza Singapura but not really browsing, just people watching. The rain had stopped and so I headed towards Cuppage Road to find something to eat at the hawker center there because I was getting hungry. I wanted some laksa and so I browsed every stall at the Cuppage terrace to see who’s got what. There were the usual Chinese-Malay-Peranakan concoction which looked delicious but I was interested in laksa only so I kept browsing. After awhile I realized that my search was futile. I was not going to find it here. So I headed back to my hotel and decided to go to the Kopitiam hawker center across from my hotel. I walked up to a Chinese hawker stall and had a nice noodle soup with pork, dumplings, and liver. I washed it all down with Tiger beer. I got back to my hotel and immediately plopped down on the sofa. Then I took my clothes off and took a nice shower. I had been walking around all day starting at mid-morning until late afternoon. I have had a nice meal and after the shower I relaxed and watch a little sports on the tube for about an hour. Although it was only eight in the evening I was too exhausted from the days events that I decided to call it a night and fell asleep immediately once I laid in bed.

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