Say it in Singlish

Singlish: This time cannot.

American English: We can't do it this time.



Singlish: Last year we have. This year don't have.

American English: We had it last year, but not this year.



Singlish: I like this also wan.

American English: I like this too.



Singlish: You no like?

American English: You don't like this?


These are very simple snippets, but ones that I hear almost everyday. I've learned that the Singlish sentence structure is like this because they've combined the structure of their native tongue (usually Mandarin) with the English words. That's why it comes out all jumbled to the American ear.

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.

The job hunt, inspired by song

As we prepare to move back to Kansas in the next year, the job search is, by far, the most daunting task. In this economy, job hunting is about as much fun as going to the dentist everyday.

That's why when I saw this little ray of sunshine, I felt a little less nervous.



There IS a place out there just waiting for me to join the ensemble of awesomeness.


Now if only I could just figure out what company these people work for.

The Martha Stewart of Singapore

I spent Saturday with Martha Stewart's twin.

Ok, not really.

They look nothing alike, but their baking abilities mirror each other to a "T". So for that, I've crowned my friend Sandra as the Martha of Singapore.

In her kitchen, she makes everything from scratch. Everything. No joke. Cans and mixes do not live in Sandra's pantry. She also only uses fresh ingredients. It's equal parts impressive and intimidating to the girl whose favorite cookies involve a cake mix and take less than thirty minutes.

So when Sandra invited me to help her make her signature pineapple tarts for Christmas this year, I jumped at the chance. I desperately needed to expand my cooking horizons.

She was even kind enough to make the whole day a learning experience for me and allow room for me to potentially mess up her Christmas tradition.

She's a sweet-tart. (Ha ha, get it? Lame? Ah-hem. Sorry.)

To start, we had to make pastry dough. Now, I'm a "run to the store and buy the pre-made, refrigerated dough" kind of girl. This whole "make dough from scratch" world got me a little anxious.

Sandra called me silly and handed me the ingredients anyway.

So with a bag of flour and two blocks of butter, I dove in. She told me to put everything in a bowl and just mix it with my hands until it was dough. Easy enough.

This is what I came up with:
(Oh and by the way, some of these pictures are blurry because I was taking pictures with dough covered fingers.)

So yeah. You see that mess all over the counter? That's how good I was at that task. I also had a flour and dough covered gut from leaning against the counter. It was a beautiful site.

Then, the expert, meaning "Martha", took over to roll out the dough cuz I was sure I wouldn't do it right.

Next was the pressing stage of the lesson. To make the tart base, we used a plastic press to push the dough into a mini tart-like shape.

Sandra demonstrated it for me first.
Then I tried.

And failed.
The two at the top are hers. The two at the bottom are mine.

I was fired.

So I tried a new job.

I, instead, took the tart bases (pressed by Sandra) and filled them with pineapple jam.

Sandra makes her own pineapple jam from fresh pineapples that she gets from the wet market. I missed that part of the tart making lesson because of the Thanksgiving holiday.

Here's the jam:
It smelled amazing. I really wanted to eat the jam with a spoon. But I didn't. Sandra already thinks I'm weird. I didn't need to give her more reasons to think so. Plus, I'd already been fired from one task, I didn't need to put my other job in jeopardy.

So I just kept to putting the jam in the tarts — instead of my mouth.

Then after I filled over 50 mini tarts, it was time to brush them with Sandra's special egg wash.

I've only ever used egg whites for an egg wash, but Sandra uses the yolks mixed with a bit of butter. She said it gives the tarts a nice color.

Since I don't know anything, I just did what I was told.


She was right. The wash gave them a really pretty golden color and made them look so scrumptious.

They were like a party in my mouth. The pastry part is the perfect blend of crusty and buttery while the fruit is sweet and tart. We both ate way more than I'd admit on the internet.

And then she sent me home with more.

I've since had to ration it out and put some in the freezer to keep my butt in the same size jeans. That won't last long though. Those tarts are still calling to me.

Those suckers are addictive. There needs to be a 12 step program to get off of the tarts.

So I declare my first Singaporean cooking experience a success.

Just don't ask "Martha". I'm sure I messed up a bunch of things.

But she'd never admit it. She's way nicer than the real Martha.

No Thank Queue

This arrived in my Singapore mailbox today:

It made me laugh out loud, right there at the mailbox.

"Long Queues mean Great Deals". That's the exact opposite of what my American brain thinks.

(Oh and for the Americans just joining us, a queue is the British word for "line", as in waiting in line).

In my own American terms, it means "Wait two hours in line to pay the same price or much more than what you'd pay back home for your Christmas gifts."

It's not their fault though. Singapore is a smooshed country. It's the second most populated country behind Monaco. Lines and queues are inevitable. Even if they put seven outlets of the same store in a mall, there'd still be a line. There's just too many people on the island.

As an American, we're brought up in a world where lines indicate that an establishment or employee isn't doing their job. Customer satisfaction is the first priority and having a customer wait more than five minutes to give you his or her money is just unheard of. Why should you have to be inconvenienced to give a certain store business? You could take your money elsewhere and not wait in line.

At least that's the American line of thinking.

So when I see that a mall is boasting about their long queues, I immediately take note to not go there and order online instead.

I'm sorry, I'm a spoiled American brat who has better things to do than wait in a line.

And I like it that way.