Cleanest city my foot

One of the first things I learned when I got to Singapore was about how the country prides itself on being the cleanest city in the world.

After living here for two years, I must set the record straight.

No, it's not.

It may not have trash littering its sidewalks (at least where the tourists can see), but it'd be a big stretch to call it the cleanest ever.

I've lived in an area of this country that's not frequented by tourists and spent the last two years working elbow to elbow with its local citizens. And you know what? I actually feel less clean when I'm here as opposed to being in the States.

Now I'm not saying that there's a huge pile of garbage hiding behind the jungles or that there's a secret trash stash under Orchard Road.

My issue with the place is the germs.

Growing up in America, I was never the germophobic type, but I had a respect for keeping things clean and sanitary. Our parents and teachers instill it in us from an early age. Wash your hands! Use a Kleenex! Cover your mouth! Don't drink after other people! Clean that with Clorox! We've heard every piece of advice on keeping germs at bay. We've even read countless articles about just how many germs there are in EVERYTHING. There's a fun one here, in case you're curious.

At times I'll admit, we go overboard. For the most part though, we're just trying to stay healthy.

So it was beyond shocking to me that some of the local customs in Singapore are downright germy to the nth degree.

To give examples and illustrations, I've made a list of four specific instances.

1) Public hand towels


This picture was taken in my office building's bathroom. The towel on top of the broken hand dryer is the community hand towel. It rests less than four feet from the nearest toilet. (Which if you've ever read the research, a toilet sprays a teeny, tiny blast of water droplets up to eight feet all around it when flushed.) Despite that, how about the fact that 10 to 20 people are washing their hands and using the same towels for sometimes two weeks at a time? I've even seen some of these people not even bother to use soap.

That's just gross.

Oh and on a side note, the rag on top of the broken soap container is the one our cleaning lady uses to clean the whole bathroom. I'll talk more about that whole issue in a minute.

2) Everybody puttin' their mitts on the raw chicken


This is how a lot of people get their chicken at my local Cold Storage. They take the tongs (hopefully) and select the pieces they want and place them in a plastic bag.

There are two things that I see wrong with this and I'm sure my sister, who's an RN, could name about 50 more. For one, do they sanitize the tongs after each use? I'm going to guess no. Each person that picks those tongs up is also picking up all kinds of harmful germs, like salmonella, and then transferring it to the grocery cart and then to their children in the cart and then to everyone else in the store. What if you forget to wash your hands when you stop by the food court on the way out? You'll be sick as a dog, my friend, and so will everyone else that touches everything else you touched with your salmonella flavored fingers.

And two, speaking of children, what if your toddler wanders over there? They could play in a sea of raw bacteria for quite some time before you finish picking out your ribeye at the butcher station. All it takes is ten seconds of distraction and your kid is covered in chicken carcass juice.

This is just an all around a bad idea.

3) Open utensil grabbing at hawkers


When you visit a hawker stall, these are the trays where you grab your eating utensils. Notice that the Asian utensils are facing all different ways and directions. This requires someone to fondle several pieces in order to get their own set free from the pile. The result is that the person who got their stuff before you has just transferred whatever goobers that were on their hands onto the chopsticks that you're gonna put in your mouth.

And that person may or may not have just picked their nose on the bus.

Sound yummy? Didn't think so.

On that same topic, I also get grossed out when dining as a group at these kind of establishments. It seems that when we order large dishes to share, they almost never come with a serving spoon.

Then people have to do this:


They have to take the chopsticks that they've already put their saliva all over into the community trough. (For the record, the woman in the picture hadn't used her chopsticks yet and they are still clean. She's considerate like that.) I have been in several other situations where people I don't know have plowed their used utensils into shared items.

Nothing makes me lose my appetite faster. I don't know you and I don't know where you've been. Please keep your spit to yourself.

Thank you.

Ok. I've saved the final bombshell until the very end. I did so because it may cause you to dry heave or never visit a public bathroom in Singapore ever again. I apologize ahead of time for feeding you an apple from the Tree of Knowledge. Here it goes...

4) Abysmal, horrific cleaning practices of public bathrooms

My dear, sweet friend Sheryl shared this gem of a story with me a couple of days ago and it has haunted my dreams ever since.

She was at Paragon Shopping Centre a couple days ago, which just so happens to be where many of our expat doctors have offices, and she stopped into the bathroom.

While she was in there, she observed one of the cleaning staff cleaning the bathroom. (Not that she was monitoring them, she just happened to see this while waiting.)

First, the staff member used the toilet brush to clean inside of the toilet bowl and without hesitation, moved the brush up and around the seat. Yep. She used the brush, the one full of dirty toilet water, to scrub the part that people sit on.

But here's the kicker! Then, she took a rag, dipped it into the toilet water, wiped down the seat again, rang out the rag and moved on to the sinks.

SHE CLEANED THE FRIGGIN' SINKS WITH THE TOILET WATER RAG.

It's bad enough that she cleaned the seat with toilet water, but then she cleaned the sinks?! I just can't even wrap my head around it.

My stomach can't even get past it.

Thank the Lord above that my rear hasn't touched a toilet other than my own since I got here. I also thank the Big Guy for strong thighs. And hand sanitizer. Lots and lots of hand sanitizer.


Really though, this post isn't to bash Singapore. There are many many people here that are clean and sanitary in their daily practices. What I'm merely trying to find out is why we clash so much on the germ issue as a whole.

Like my husband also pointed out: In Singapore, restaurants are given a cleanliness rating of A, B, or C: A being the best and C being the worst. So basically, it allows them to have a certain level of filth.

C = a lot of filth.
B = just a little filth.
A = clean.

Back home, we have a system too. It's called sanitary or closed.

Granted, I know that the US has its problems in the food industry (and I am getting ready to read Sinclair's The Jungle), but these shops are what the general public can actually see for themselves. Wouldn't you want to keep your shop sparkling clean so people can at least think they're having a safe meal? Why doesn't everyone strive for an A?

(I'm getting off my soap box now. I tend to get a lil' wound up when I'm grossed out.)

Again, I'm really not trying to bash anyone. I'm merely trying to figure out why the vast difference in culture.

Is it that we Americans are just that germophobic?

The Men with Purses

Ok, so I'm just going to put this out there.

What the heck is up with Singaporean guys carrying their girlfriend's purse around town?


There's a word for guys like that where I'm from.

And it rhymes with "zissy".

Just sayin'.

That's some expensive bird spit

This is a display of the popular Asian delicacy known as Bird's Nest. It's a very sought after ingredient in Chinese cuisine and is most often dissolved into a soup. It's also very expensive.

Especially considering what it is.

It's spit.

SPIT.

And it's from a wild animal. And it's hard because it's been sitting around for a while.

It comes from a certain type of bird called a cave swift. These swifts build their nests inside caves using their very sticky strands of saliva. The strands solidify, slowly forming a nest. When they're finished, the nest looks like a shallow cup that adheres to the cave wall.

Here's a visual from Wikipedia:

So people enter these caves, harvest the nests, clean them and then sell them for vast sums of money. Then, the people who buy them use it in their cooking, like I said, usually for Bird's Nest soup. There's also several different varieties and one is called "red blood" nests. I can only imagine why it's called that. (*Dry heaving at the computer*)

Call me crazy, but I find it extremely odd not only to pay large sums of money for ANIMAL SALIVA, but then to turn around and EAT it.

I won't even kiss my dog on the mouth and I'm sure he has a cleaner mouth than a wild bird.

The Chinese will tell you that Bird's Nest is full of health benefits. These benefits include: aiding digestion, improving the voice, improving focus, alleviating asthma, and the kicker....

improving libido.

So basically what they're telling me is: they eat spit to get their freak on.

I don't know what gets your jollies off, but for me, making out with Mr. Bird Spit Breath isn't on the list.

The Red Love Seeds

These are red love seeds.

I've been collecting them for the last couple of weeks to help put some color in our home.

A lot of the ladies in our neighborhood have been collecting them too. They gather thousands of them and put them in clear vases, candle holders and other decorative containers. It's a cheap and easy way to bring a pop of color into your room.

The seeds are hard, shiny and bright red in color (in case you're blind and can't see the photo). You can only find these seeds in this area of the world though. They come from the Saga Seed Tree which is commonly found in India, China and various regions of Southeast Asia.

The tree has long green pods that grow from the branches and in the Spring, the pods dry up and break open, releasing the red seeds all over the ground.

The locals call them red love seeds because red is the color of love and when you pick them from the ground, you're also supposed to gather thoughts of the one you love.

You know what I think about when I pick them up?

1. Holy crap, my back hurts from bending over and picking up these frickin' seeds.
2. I really hope no one is looking out their window at my big butt in the air.
3. It would really suck if a snake scared the bejesus out of me and made me drop all these seeds.
4. Isn't there a red love seed store?
5. My vase is gonna look awesome when I'm done picking these up in five years.

I spent 30 minutes back behind my house yesterday picking these things up off the ground. This morning when I woke up, my hamstrings were sore.

Explain that to me.

I've been going to spinning class since November and I don't get sore until I spend 30 minutes picking up seeds!

What is that about?!

For more info about the seeds, their uses and why the heck I'd even care about them, here's some sites:

The Red Love Seeds

Saga Seed Tree

Wikipedia: Saga (tree)

I'm not even worried about the MSG anymore

This is what my friend Sandra found in her lunch today:

(WARNING: This picture will gross you the eff out.)

No, that's not a raisin. It's a fat, juicy fly swimming in the sweet and sour sauce. (Sorry it's blurry, we only had a camera phone available.)

It was the grossest thing I've seen since a Chinese grandmother hawked a lougie on the sidewalk a few months ago.

I think this is going to deter me from visiting hawker stalls for a while, especially the one at my office.

If you remember, hawker stalls are like the American equivalent to a food court in a shopping mall, only they're a little more on the rustic side. It's pretty common for certain stalls to pre-make their food and then set it in big containers under warmers. If you're having trouble picturing it, here's a visual:

They'll put food behind the glass for display or to keep it warm. The problem is that some of these stalls don't have glass to surround all sides. That's when the flies start buzzing around. Since most Asian dishes are served in a sauce, you can imagine how easy it is for them to get trapped and stirred into our food.

I mean their food.

I'm not eating it anymore.

Sandra was pretty shaken up about it. Several of us in the office have vowed to bring a paper bag lunch for a while.

Or maybe forever.

The Giant Durians

This area is referred to as the Esplanade. Up until I did the research for this post, I incorrectly thought that the building was called "The Esplanade".

I was wrong. It doesn't happen very often, but alas it has happened.

I'm totally kidding, by the way.

Kinda.

Anyway. The building is actually one of two identical buildings in the Esplanade area and is correctly referred to as "Esplanade: Theatres on the Bay".

But I've never heard anyone call them that. That's just too many words.

I always hear "the Esplanade" or the "giant durians" — as in the nasty smelling fruit that my brother made me eat for his birthday.

The buildings look a lot like that fruit that is oh so popular in this part of the world.

I still don't get the appeal.

On a side note, I'd like to express my extreme excitement over the fact that the local grocery store I sometimes go to has stopped carrying durians and thus I no longer wish to rip off my nose when shopping for produce.

Hooray!

One down, 50 more to go.

A Mosquito Fog

Yesterday, I was pretty sure that a forest fire had broken out behind my house. All I could see when I looked out my back window was a thick, smoky fog.

Rather than grab water or call the fire department, my first thought was "Oh crap! I need my camera. This'll be awesome!"

Yeah. I'm that kind of person. I blame J-school.

Record the moment first; seek help later.

So anyway, I went to grab my camera, fixed the settings and ran back to the window to open her up and shoot away.

And there was nothing. No smoke. No flames. No excitement.

It turns out that it was just the pest control people fogging for mosquitoes.

Wah. Wah.

Stupid skeeters killed my excitement for the day.

In Singapore, the climate is so wet that mosquitoes are a big problem. In our area, they must fog quite frequently to make being outside even remotely comfortable. They also do it to inhibit the breeding of the Aedes mosquito, which carries Dengue fever. I talked about it a long time ago here.

To make up for my lost photo op, I did semi-stalk the pest control dude from my window hoping that he'd at least fog something again.

Instead, he dropped his stuff and took a walk.

I thought the fogger looked a lot like a futuristic leaf blower. (Ignore the stupid light post that was in the way.)

So...I'm sorry I couldn't get you guys a forest fire. I know that would've been way more fun.

Victoria's Secret in Singapore

Among the many attractions and shops in Resorts World Sentosa, one of my favorite stores has opened their first location in Asia.

Singapore, Vickie's has landed. Get ready to live.

Of course, it's a much smaller version compared to the two monster stores that I'm used to, but as the saying goes "Beggars can't be choosers". It'll definitely do.

Because I'm my mother's child, I decided to do some price comparisons even though I didn't plan on buying anything.

As you can see in the above photo, the original US prices have been marked out with a Sharpie.

The new price is listed on the ledge.

I braced myself for some sticker shock. I was pleasantly surprised though. The original price was $16.90 US. The new price is approximately $22.56 US. Not too crazy of a difference. If you figure in how much it'd cost in shipping to get here, it's almost a bargain.

All in all, it's a cute little store that has a sampling of popular Victoria's Secret merchandise.

I was a bit confused by one missing component though:

There is not one bra to be seen anywhere.

I'm not even kidding.

Hello?! That's like opening an ice cream shop and only selling sprinkles and hot fudge.

I have no idea why they wouldn't sell bras in the only Victoria's Secret in Asia. I only own bras from Victoria's Secret because they're so awesome (and my best friend used to work there). I think these girls in Singapore should get to experience them too.

Aaron says it's probably because Victoria's Secret doesn't make bras that small.

Very funny. Mean, perverted boy.

Side Car equals Awesome

Someone in Singapore drives a side car.

And I am incredibly jealous.

Thaipusam, version 2.0

Saturday was the Hindu celebration of Thaipusam in Little India. If you've been reading this blog for a while, you'll recall that I went to this last year.

I wasn't going to go again this year because it's really one of those things that your stomach can only handle once.

Then, my friend Danielle reminded me about the sweet DSLR camera my husband got me for my birthday and said that it'd be a great way to get some good shots in. (She got one too this year.)

I caved. I desperately needed camera practice.

So we went and I am now sharing my favorite shots of the day:












I found the experience much more enjoyable on my weak stomach this time around. The shock factor was gone and it became all business as I was still learning my camera.

Even though I got another sunburn, I'm loving the shots I got.

Yay new camera!

Hang them out to dry

I hate laundry. I hate it so much that I own more than a month's worth of underwear just so I don't absolutely have to do it so often.

Yes. I consider underwear the one thing that cannot be worn more than once between washings. Everything else passes a sniff/stain test.

Call me gross, but I guarantee that I get to relax way more often than you do as you shuttle back and forth to the washing machine with your basket full of almost clean jeans.

Much like everything else in life, Singaporeans do laundry a little different than we do.


You see those poles of damp clothes hanging out of the window of the HDB flats?

That's the Singaporean equivalent of a dryer. Most of the country's residents cannot afford a dryer (and sometimes a washer) and have to tackle laundry the "old-fashioned" way. However, since nobody has a yard to put a clothesline up, they have to attach poles under their window and hang the clothes to dry that way.

So naturally, this rose up all sorts of questions inside of me. Big shocker there, right?

I asked the girls at work my random, crazy, American girl questions:

Me: So what if your clothes fall off the pole?
Them: Why would they? You attach them with clips or loop the sleeves through, lah. It rarely happens.


Me: Doesn't it take forever to have to wait for it to dry before you hang more up?
Them: No lah! You do a little everyday only so that it doesn't take so much time all at once.


Me: Will you ever buy a dryer? It's quicker, isn't it?
Them: They're very expensive here. Plus, the electricity bill would be to the roof. (Electricity in Singapore is about five times more expensive than it is in Kansas. That's also the reason most people don't have air conditioning.)


Me: Don't birds poop on it?
Them: No, crazy girl! That never happens. What I don't like is when the people above me hang their dripping wet sheets over my clothes that are almost dry. Ai-yo! I get so mad.


I actually could probably handle this part of Singapore life. I tend to hang dry most of my clothes on a clothes rack even though I have a dryer. I find the clothes don't shrink, lose their shape and generally last a lot longer that way.

I could not live without a washing machine though. When I do finally do laundry, I want to spend as little time as possible on it. I have no patience for soaking, scrubbing and wringing bedsheets.

I don't even think I have the muscles required for that kind of work.

The Christmas Kelong

For my office's "Holiday" celebration this year, we went to an authentic Singapore kelong.


A kelong is basically fishing hut that is either floating or on stilts just off the shore. There are not many left in Singapore as the fishing business has become more modernized.

Yet, the few traditional kelong fishermen left in Singapore live and work in these fishing huts. Some also host lunches and dinners at the kelong for those who want to dine on the freshest seafood in Singapore.

That'd be us. We heard it'd be fun. And we brought along our family type people too.

Aaron was horrifi —uh —thrilled!

When we pulled up to the kelong, we saw Kujo here raising a ruckus from a rusty chain.

Aaron goes, "Oh God. That's lunch, isn't it?"

My husband is such an optimist sometimes.

Actually, the kelong housed many nets that held the catch of that day or week. That was lunch.

I only walked around the kelong for a minute to take the needed photos for proof that I was there. Here's why:

I wasn't all that confident that my flip flop wouldn't go right through these planks. They weren't lookin' too sturdy.

The kelong was set up for all twenty of us to eat around two tables. It took up most of the outdoor living area, leaving only the walkways and fishing nets clear.

Here is the owner/chef preparing our vegetables.

In Singapore, they refer to leafy greens as vegetables and often cook them in a sauce. Americans would usually put these in a salad and eat them smothered in Ranch dressing without cooking them. It took some getting used to, but I like them either way now.

I've expanded my veggie horizons. Mostly out of fear of starvation.

P.S. I have no idea how Chef Dude doesn't have a million splinters in his feet since he walks around the place barefoot. Calluses of steel? Sorry. That's gross of me to say.

Here are some of the dishes that were served. Ignore the chicken dish. Sometimes Americans just need a seafood buffer.


It was a perfect December day in Singapore. We lucked out and didn't get a drop of rain while we were cast away.

We were out on the kelong for almost three hours. They allowed us to bring our own beer, wine, soda and water for the luncheon.

After about an hour of gulping down wine and beer, we discovered a problem.

This was the bathroom:

There's nothing like a hole in a bunch of decrepit planks over the ocean.

The beverages flowed a lot slower for the ladies upon this little discovery.

I still don't understand the physics of that whole thing.

Christmas Season, Singapore style

When Sandra, the Singaporean coworker of mine, sees weather like this, she excitedly goes to the window and says,

"Yay! I love this Christmas weather!"

And when she does that, I am always sitting in a state of confusion.

"Uh, no it isn't. That's rain, Sandra. Christmas weather is snow and cold."

Then she reminds me that she's from Singapore and the rainy season marks the beginning of the holiday season and that I'm from Kansas and don't know anything.

Ok. She's nicer than that, but I do forget that I was raised in a Christmas snow globe of a world sometimes.

Kansas Christmases are white and freezing and make me want my Grandma's hot cranberry tea, a cozy blanket and a fire in the fireplace.

They do not make me want my umbrella and a dry pair of pants.

I'm obviously still a work in progress. Singapore, I'll get it one of these days.

American MSG meet Asian MSG

This is MSG.

The one on the left was bought in the United States. The one on the right was bought in Singapore.

There is a lot of controversy surrounding this food additive and I'll be honest and say that I never really paid that much attention...

Until I moved to Asia.

Ever since we moved to Singapore, I get frequent headaches that seem to come out of nowhere. It's not because I don't drink enough water and it's not because I'm outside in the heat. I get them while typing at my desk in my air conditioned office while drinking a liter of water. I also get them while riding on the MRT in the middle of the day. I could not find a common link to solve the headache puzzle.

After months of this, someone told me that it's probably all of the MSG I'm eating in the food over here.

Interesting.

Like every paranoid American, I hopped on the Internet to Google it.

There, I found this website called MSGtruth.org. It's full of information about what it is, why it's used, what it does to your body and what it could potentially do. It was enough to make me uneasy.

Here's some snippets:

• MSG tricks your tongue into making you think a certain food is high in protein and thus nutritious. It is not a "meat tenderizer". It is not a "preservative". The food industry is trying to confuse the issue by focusing on the "fifth" taste sense they call umami. Free glutamic acid is detected by the taste buds as a simple way to signal the presence of protein in a food, just as there are fat receptors to detect fats and receptors that sense carbohydrate or sweet flavors. The purpose is to help us discern real food from inedible matter. It changes your perception of not simply taste but the nutritious qualities of what you put into your mouth. However, and here is the main problem with free glutamic acid - It is the very same neurotransmitter that your brain and many organs including your ears, eyes, nervous system and pancreas in your body use to initiate certain processes in your body.

• MSG stimulates the pancreas to produce insulin. So many diets these days are concerned about the Glycemic Index of foods and yet none of them address the fact that MSG and free glutamic acid stimulate the pancreas to release insulin when there doesn't even have to be carbohydrates in the food for that insulin to act on. The food industry has found their own "anti-appetite suppressant". It's a convenient way to keep consumers coming back for more. The blood sugar drops because of the insulin flood. And you are hungry an hour later. Sound familiar?

Um yeah. Everytime I eat Chinese food, I want a friggin' Big Mac like an hour later. I always thought it was the rice that did it.

But seriously, food shouldn't make you feel that way. Food is supposed to be filling. It's supposed to satisfy hunger, not antagonize it!

So after all this research is when I decided to search our cabinets and found the container of Accent. I had no idea that it was straight MSG. That makes me feel really good about all of those dinners of canned green beans that we douse in chemicals.

Aaron and I didn't stop the search there though. We rummaged through our entire pantry. You know what we found?

ALL OF OUR FAVORITE FOODS HAVE MSG.

Every bottle of Ranch dressing. Every package of Jalapeno Ranch Chips. Every granule of Parmesan cheese. Every Dorito chip. Every container of Lawry's Seasoning Salt.

It was one of the saddest and most guilt-ridden days of my life.

That is when it dawned on me.

I've been eating these MSG laced foods my ENTIRE life. Nothing bad has happened to me yet (that I know of). How can they prove that MSG is the thing making my head hurt?

I lived on Doritos and Ranch dressing for the entirety of high school. I don't ever remember getting a head ache. (A stomach ache and huge love handles is what I should've had. Yet, those gems did finally arrive later.)

So I think I'm over it. I do still think that they put a lot more MSG in Chinese-style foods and I am going to make a conscious effort to not to eat those as much. But really, it'd be near impossible to avoid it all the time.

Plus, I really like Ranch dressing too much to let it go.

In Singapore without a Dollar

Yeah, I'd like to see that happen.

This commercial has been played at the beginning of every movie Aaron and I have seen for the past six months. It is false advertisement at it's best. I'd love to see ANYONE try to travel to Singapore with only their credit card.

It is impossible. I know this for a fact because a great majority of my time in Singapore has been spent searching for an ATM.

In fact, I'm sure Aaron and I could tell you where the ATM is in every mall/eating place in Singapore.

I'm not trying to offend anyone with this statement, but I've got to say it:


Singapore, you people are way behind in modern forms of payment.


And it's beyond frustrating.

Aaron and I never used to carry cash before we came here. We never ever needed cash either. We always used our debit card (for you Singaporeans, a debit card is the American version of a NETS card, but they accept it everywhere that they accept credit cards).

We even tried to be like the Singaporeans and get a NETS card. When in Rome...

However, we quickly discovered that most places won't even accept that.

I once tried to buy $8 worth of grocery items at a Fair Price Xtra (a big grocery store here) and was told that I was not allowed to use my NETS card unless I spent $10.

Are you friggin' kidding me?! Is it really going to kill your profits to run a transaction for $8? I'm pretty sure that 30 minute queue I just stood in, more than paid the amount it costs to make the transaction.

So I had to set down my things, leave the store, search AMK Hub for fifteen minutes for my bank's ATM and zip out cash. Then return back to the store, find my items (that had since been restocked), wait in line again and pay.

Really. Really?

Then, last night we went out for a movie and decided to get a snack beforehand. The place we went to not only would not accept credit cards, they wouldn't even accept NETS unless our bill was $20.

People. I used to use my debit card in the States to buy a 99 cent pack of gum. Do you think Walmart shed any tears over that?

This is just getting ridiculous and I've seen that friggin' dancing man commercial one time too many.

Get with the times. Accept credit.

And somebody please stop that man from dancing.

How am I the weird one?

I was having a conversation with my Singaporean coworkers today about table utensils. We often talk about random things. It makes for the most interesting conversations, as you will soon read.

The conversation began with me feeling bad about continually using plastic utensils at lunch that I just throw away after each use. It's not very green of me at all. So I told them that I wanted to find some inexpensive metal utensils, but also didn't want to have to buy a whole set either.

The conversation went as such:

Singaporean 1: Oh, dat's ok Megan. I just bring some in for you. What you want, just a spoon and fork, lah?

Me: You know, I really just eat with a fork and knife. I rarely use a spoon.

Singaporean 2: Oh that's right. Typical American. Always eats with a knife and fork.

Me: Yes, because I need a fork to cut my food.

Singaporean 2: You use a spoon for that, just like the rest of the world. There they go again. Americans always have to be different.

Me: What? The rest of the world uses a fork and knife too. It's common sense. When you need a utensil to cut something, you use your knife.

Singaporean 2: You can use a spoon! The spoon works just as well to cut.

Me: Why would I use a blunt, round utensil to cut when a knife is made for just that?

Singaporean 2: Nevermind you, it's a British thing.

Me: The British do that? I thought they used a knife and fork too?

Singaporean 2: No no no. That's just an American thing.



Ok, I call Bullhonkey. This cannot be just a weird Americanism.

So I consulted Google. In fact, I've been Googling this issue for over an hour.

This is what I found: The Brits use a knife. Proof is here. In fact, most American table manners are derived from Britain. Also, most of Europe also uses a knife.

Not only that, but only in Southeast Asia is it even acceptable to hold both a fork and a spoon at the same time while eating.

But that's not really the issue we're discussing here today.

I'm still stuck on the whole "knife is better than spoon" pish posh. Where on Earth did Singapore get the idea that a spoon is a better cutting utensil than a knife?

It makes no sense.

I know it's not just my coworkers that think this way. It's a collective opinion in Singapore. Not a single hawker stall that we've gone to has provided a knife. It's either a fork and spoon, or a spoon and chopsticks. Knives seem to not exist here.

It's not usually a big deal as most Asian food is served bite-sized. However, in the event that they serve you chicken with the bones still in it (which is usually the case), it'd be nice to have a knife to cut it off. We've had many an accident trying to that with a spoon.

And by "accident", I mean chicken flying across the table and onto the floor or in my lap.

So no. I'm not convinced that the spoon is a better alternate to the knife. Several curry chicken stains to the crotch can count as my proof.

BUT, I will say this. Eating Asian cuisine with both a spoon and fork in your hands at the same time has proved to be much easier than the American one-handed utensil method. It's a better rice getter. Forks by themselves just make a mess of rice on your plate.

There, I've said my peace.

And now I can sleep tonight.

Joi Chua, is that a microphone....

or are you just happy to see us?

RazorTV posted the following video today:


Um....I don't think its your sexuality they're questioning (although that may come later.) I think they're questioning your gender, Joi Chua.

What is that thing?

Stupid Paparazzi

There are two reasons I rarely go out in Singapore

This is one of them.

It's inevitable. Someone always catches me doing something awkward and embarrassing.

There are endless pictures of me on Facebook with ridiculous facial expressions and odd poses.

This time, I was changing my shoes. Singapore is mean to people wearing heels. It makes you hike long distances to find things like bars and taxis and bathrooms.

I rarely wear heels here. Apparently, my feet can still feel pain. I've not yet developed the tolerance of the high-heeled Singaporean women. I think their feet are permanently numb from years of high-heeled hiking.

Oh and the other reason I don't go out?

A friggin' cocktail costs $18.

I can buy a whole bottle of vodka for that amount and play Guitar Hero at my house.

And feel like a rockstar while doing it.

It's all milk in my milkshake!

Singapore, your milkshake does not bring the boys to the yard.

I'm sorry. I had to say it. I loved that song back in the day.

But honestly, the milkshakes here are pretty lame.

I didn't even know I cared that much until a fellow blogger asked me the other day if I'd found a decent milkshake in this country. The blogger, we'll call him Greg because that's his name, has been on a quest for a milkshake that doesn't make him have to fly over the big blue ocean to find it. (And no, McDonald's doesn't count. That's a mix; it's not authentic.)

Oh and you should check out Greg's blog too. He's an American guy in Singapore and he lives in another neck of the jungle. So he has a whole other perspective of the island.

But back to what I was sayin....

Greg wants a good milkshake and he can't find one.

And now I want one too. It sounds so good after walking around in this heat everyday.

Our beef with the local milkshakes? I think they take the name too literally. They taste like flavored milk that's been shaken up. No thickness. No ice cream. No brain freeze.

The stuff doesn't even get stuck in the straw.

What's up with that?

Even Dairy Queen messed it up on Orchard Road.

I know, right? I couldn't believe it either.

My latest milkshake test was last week. My friend from work treated me to Haagen-Dazs at Junction 8 Shopping Mall. We both ordered the Belgian chocolate milkshakes (pictured above).

While the Belgian chocolate part of the equation was delicious, the shake was still merely cold shaken milk.

It was a giant tease. No one likes a tease either.

So, if you know of a place that serves real milkshakes on this island. I think you would be our new best friend if you wrote it in the comments section.

Even Hitler's upset with public transportation

This video was brought to my attention by my lovely Singaporean coworker. She's such a funny.