In the Lion City

My family and I just got back from a long weekend trip to Singapore. It sounds extravagant, no? But bear in mind it's a short 1.5 hr flight from Jakarta and if you have skills you get great deals on fares and hotels. So during the 4 days, we shopped, we ate, shopped some more. Since I'm not much of a shopper (and Singapore has gotten really expensive thanks to a strong currency), I delighted in the eating. Food in Singapore has always offered a wonderful amalgamation of Malay, Chinese, and Indian cuisines. Can't go wrong! Anyway, for more of the city/country/island, check out my travel blog in a few. I should have some stuff up including photos.

Walking around I started to reminisce. I lived there years ago, as a teenager, studying (and living) at an international school. I saw the no. 14 bus we would take from campus to town. Ran across the restaurant where my roommates and I, the Dorm 207/208, enjoyed our last dinner outing before we all parted ways. The bathroom at the Grand Hyatt where we would slip in to relieve ourselves and freshen up from a whole day at Orchard Rd. The movie theater's staircase where we would mill around and wait for each other. The intersection near Shaw House where I once bumped into so many of my friends in one day. And there, too, once, my friend and I met a journalist who wanted to take a picture of us (as teenage foreigners. Yep, we did get into the magazine).

These visual cues reminded me of a special time, a great learning experience, a fun yet challenging period full of beginnings. My first time living away from home, with those who aren't family. First time doing laundry on my own. First time struggling with my grades. First Tequila shots. First real conflict. First kiss.

Looking back, Singapore was the first taste of the world as I now know it. I realize how powerful my Singaporean experience was, albeit not always pleasant. During my two-year stint there my friends and I couldn’t wait for our futures outside; for when we wouldn’t have a curfew or have to study in the prep room or be pestered by our matron or deal with that annoying twat of a 3^rd year who was also, unfortunately, really pretty/smart /athletic/talented/ though surely we didn’t want to admit it. And now, here I am, many roommates, alcoholic drinks, and countless struggles later, thanking the Lord for genuinely good significant firsts.