Life in Little India

It's been a few weeks since my last blog, but I have decided to change the format up a bit to keep it interesting as I continue this blog over the next few months. Going forward, I will visit either a new location in or around Singapore every weekend (work/health permitting) or my travels to other countries and describe my experiences here; this will also force me to get out and enjoy the various cultures that Singapore has to offer............food and all, but also allow the blog to be a bit more focused! I will also try and add supplemental photos for each installment.

So this week, we are going to Little India which is actually the neighborhood where I reside.

Little India is a small ethnic enclave that sits in the southeast portion of the island of Singapore. When Singapore was a British colony, this is where the Indian immigrants were forced to live under the British law of ethnic segregation and eventually built up lots of ethnic shops and restaurants. Today, the neighborhood has grown and modernized where small derelict buildings now stand beside new glass high rise condos and enormous shopping centers. Although the neighborhood now consists of many expats from all over the world and few Indians, the culture still lives on with those that remain and on weekends Indians are literally bused in to spend the day basking in all things Indian.

There is one day a week that locals (non-Indians) will tell you to stay away from this neighborhood and that is Sunday, so in order to get the full experience, I decided that I would spend my Sunday evening and sulk in the local culture.

It began a little before dinner time, I decided to leave my apartment and begin my evening. It was still daylight out with no hint of nightfall, the temperature had cooled to a nice 75 degrees with a slight breeze, perfect for enjoying a night out. As I exit the gates of the compound where I reside, I immediately notice that people are heading towards the festivities. In Little India, there are lots of open grass fields and this is my first stop as it's where I see the largest mass of people. Here, you see Indians of all different ages, races, and socioeconomic status just hanging out with friends and chatting perhaps about politics, personal lives or football (soccer). Coming from western culture or perhaps Chicago when you see large groups of people, you immediately think that there is entertainment somewhere, good food, something free, or something bad is about to happen or has already taken place; but here non of the aforementioned are true. It appears as though there are no real festivities taking place and these individuals, sit and stand seemingly not bothered by the moist and muddy grass and enjoy the brisk evening and each others company. Wanting to go in for a closer look and perhaps some Indian food, I decide to enter this enclave where all the ethnic shops and hawker centers/restaurants are. The grassfields and shops are separated by Serangoon Road which is a pretty major thruway here in Singapore. However, on this night, it's as if the rules and laws do not exist in Little India. People walk across the 3 lane semi-highway where cars typically travel around 45-50 mph as if the cars do not exist. Driver's honk their horns, throw their hands up in frustration, but ultimately are forced to wait as the patron's of this neighborhood are out celebrating and will not acknowledge any negativity.

I cross the road with the masses to arrive just outside Mustafa Center (see my blog dated 9/20/09, My First Weekend in Singapore) for details on Mustafa Center. The shopping district is lined with ethnic shops and restaurants on either side, the road is narrow, the width is probably less than a typically American residential road yet here, you have cars and trucks parked on both sides of the road. The streets are packed with hundreds if not over a thousand people walking down this road as well as moving cars that can only move about a few feet every ten minutes or so because of the crowd of people. They have clearly taken a wrong turn and you cannot help but feel bad for these people. The architecture of the buildings certainly let you know that you are not in modern Singapore, barely standing derelict buildings line the streets, I recognized that there is a colonial influence in the architecture but alot of the ballistrades and ornate mouldings of the period have since been torn off due to old age, or "shotty" remodel jobs. On these streets, you can purchase traditional Muslim attire, toys for children, fruits and vegetables and even raw meat and fish. I have been told that these are the places where you want to get your fruits and vegetables but I cannot fathom purchasing fully exposed to the elements, raw meat and fish on a back side street in a tropical climate. If you remember above, I said it had cooled to about 75 degrees, it is pretty much 85 degrees or so year round in Singapore and rarely gets below 70-75 degrees; in fact I am not sure it has since I moved here just over 2 months ago, as you can image these are not ideal temperatures for raw meat and poultry.

Walking through this area is absolutely surreal and you almost have to be here and experience it to believe it. There is loud Hindi music in the background, people packed shoulder to shoulder as well as hand in hand celebrating, and shop keepers/restaurateurs with megaphones trying to attract people to their shops; all with a very foul stench in the air. It's as if the natural scents of mother nature do not exist on this block and whatever is being cooked or sold have consumed the air; the smell wasn't pleasant nor offensive but I can assure you have haven't smelled this before.

I continue on barging my way through the crowd in a somewhat uncivilized fashion and arrive at a group of a few hundred people listening to music. It's definitely Hindi music as I recognized it from friends in Chicago, I am several feet away from what I thought was the actual singer that had this large crowd and I realize that these hundreds of people are all watching a music video on a 20 inch television. What was particularly interesting was no one was dancing, singing along or even moving, this music was almost hypnotic and had these guys in a trance like state of mind. The artist was dancing, singing and resembled a hippy like version of Britney Spears that had these middle aged men hypnotyized, I am not sure I have ever seen anything like this.

At this point, I am hungry and decide to continue down this road until I find a restaurant to eat, so I stop at a place that seemed like a popular spot and the food looked good. I order a rice dish that seemed to be quite popular and an Iced Tea (they love ice tea here), as I wait for my food, I watch a group of men play a board game that was a cross between shuffle board, checkers and pool. They played the game on a shuffle board with the salt or whatever that powder is, where the object of the game looked like you had to take these checker pieces and sink them into the holes on all four corners of the board. Obviously a game that I had never seen before, yet the excitement of these guys and intrigue of trying to figure out this game really won me over, I too began to get excited when I a piece was sunk into a hole that I almost forgot I had ordered food. My order is ready so I go to receive it "here you go". "What is this"? I ask, he says to me with confusion and slight irritation: "you had the rice and iced tea right"? I acknowledge and receive my food.

Ok, how do I explain this? My food came in a cone shaped piece of flimsy cardboard and my iced tea came in a plastic bag...no cup, just a bag and a straw, in fact, its a hospital fluid bad that they serve drinks in. As you can probably imagine, I stood there not knowing what to do. It was only at this point that I realized there are no tables in this place, it's packed shoulder to shoulder and there I stood with a greasy piece of cardboard that is at this point burning my hand and getting flimsier by the minute in one hand, and an ice cold hospital fluid bag filled with iced tea and a straw in the other hand. I don't even know where to begin so I ask for a cup and the guy pretty much just looked at me, shook his head, and rolled his eyes and said a few choice words under his breath in another language. But I must say, the food was good and definitely worth the difficulty I endured trying to consume it. At that point after I finish my meal, I have decided that although my time here was brief, I had experienced enough of Little India, and it was time to end my night out.

So just a quick update, some of you saw on my facebook page that I was in the ER this week for a sore throat. I know it seems dramatic, but in order to see a doctor here, you must go to the hospital and to get sick time off work, you must have a doctor's note. My intent was just to make sure I was ok since I had this sore throat for well over a week and it turns out it was the flu. I am all better now and was required to stay home for 2 days.

The hospital was interesting, it was like the DMV actually. You have to take a number and in the waiting room there are these offices that have "Now Serving" numbers above the door and a main board illustrating which which room your number is being served in. When your number is called, you go into the room, tell the doctor your symptoms, and he prescribes something and then he rings the bell for the next number to enter as you exit. It was quite fast, yet impersonal at the same time, it was interesting to say the least.

I hope you enjoyed this installment of my blog, I am not sure where next week will take me so until next time.

Have a good week

Jason