Iz down under

Not Australia, but the Andaman Sea - the body of water to the west of Thailand, that forms part of the Indian Ocean and played host to me this week as I learned to dive. I am now a PADI qualified Open Water diver! Learning to dive is something I've been thinking about for some while and, as I'm not getting any younger (funny, that), I figured that now was as good a time as any. Living in Singapore means that lots of warm water dive sites are within easy reach, and the fact that Chris's eldest daughter Saffron runs a dive centre in Ko Lanta in Thailand (check it out at http://www.scuba-fish.com/) made the choice of where to learn very simple without having to do any of that research malarkey.

So, what was I expecting, and what was it like? Well, it was hard work for a start - physically and mentally. Physically, because doing anything underwater is hard work given the relative density of water and air, and mentally, because there is a fair amount of theory to get to grips with about stuff like the effects of compression on the body to make sure you dive safely. It's a while since I've taken an exam but thankfully, I passed, largely due to great one-one-one tuition from the lovely Viki, with whom I bonded instantly because she too, is Scottish. There are some pictures of the dive sprinkled throughout this and future posts - the one top right is me going into the sea for the first time. I know it's looks as if I'm being pushed, but I really did jump! The one below unfortunately makes me look as if I have borrowed Graucho Marx's nose for the day, but, hey, everything looks bigger underwater, and nobody ever said that divewear was flattering. In my case the neoprene wetsuit was not only unflattering, it also produced an (extremely rare, but who wants to be special in a case like this) allergic reaction after my first open water dive.

A big group of us were going out for dinner that evening and as I was getting ready, I started to itch. At first, I thought I had been bitten by a troop of hungry mosquitoes, but then - literally as I watched - my skin got redder and redder and broke out in a series of welts - everywhere (and, dear readers, I do mean everywhere) that the wetsuit had touched. It took me a while to work out what it was, but when I was able to pause momentarily from scratching every nook and cranny (the crannies were the worst) and view the pattern of the reaction, it came to me. By this point my ears had gone bright red and had swelled up on the inside and Chris was having to physically restrain me from scratching myself bloody. Fortunately someone at the dive centre had some amazing cream - thank you Glaxo SmithKline - which, coupled with a double dose of antihistamine tablets - seemed to do the trick overnight.

The dinner was at a local restaurant and karaoke club, where those of you who know my predilection for the microphone will doubtless have been expecting me a rendition of my theme tune, Girls Just Want To Have Fun. Well, I would have done, had it been on the song list. Fair enough, you're thinking, no Cyndi Lauper, why didn't I just go for a spot of Abba, or that karaoke staple - I Will Survive? Who can imagine a karaoke list without Dancing Queen or Gloria Gaynor? Well I can, now, because all the songs were Thai classics. To be fair, there was a list of 13 English songs, from an album entitled "Michael Sings Rock". Unfortunately, none of us had ever heard of this particular Michael or any of his songs, which didn't stop Chris getting up and singing one of them - very loudly and tunefully - although not necessarily to the tune that Michael had in mind.

While the Ang Mo population may have been constrained by the list, not so the Thais in our group, who were giving it the welly as soon as they sat down. A great time was had by all; we had masses of delicious Thai food and a fair few beers, for the bargain price of GBP 80.00 for 28 of us. A night to remember.

Garden soup

My regular readers may remember me waxing lyrical about the Botanic Gardens in a previous post. We were there again last night, having a picnic and watching a film called Tortilla Soup. The open-air cinema experience was part of the Singapore Sun Festival - described as a "celebration of the art of living well". There's lots going on - music, arts, literature, food, wine - and film. The alfresco films are all food-themed, Eat Drink Man Woman and Big Night were the other two. If you've never seen them, make sure you put it right.

We got to the gardens early to make sure of a good seat, but there was barely any need. While any open-air event in London usually attracts hordes of people, last night it was all very relaxed, with lots of space. The film stars Hector Alizondo - whom you may remember as Barney Thompson, the hotel manager in Pretty Woman. He is a master chef, widower and father to three daughters who all get fixed up romantically during the course of the film - as does he, right at the end. Feelgood stuff.

We have a long weekend for Diwali (or Deepavali as it is known here in Singapore), the Hindu Festival of Lights. Little India is decorated with lights and flower garlands and absolutely milling with people. We were there yesterday, at one of Singapore's institutions - Mustafa's. Mustafa's, or Mustafa Centre to give it its full name, and an amazing place. Open 24/7, it sells everything from Italian leather briefcases and gold jewellery to electronics and groceries as well as most things in between. Not for the claustrophobic (think Oxford Street on the last Saturday before Christmas, throw in a few hundred more determined shoppers, and you begin to get the picture), Mustafa's is a far cry from most of Singapore's other shopping malls, but it's probably the best known. Apart from the Italian leather briefcase, we were in search of a small cool box for our picnic. I finally tracked it down - in the crockery department for some reason - only to discover that the ice packs to put inside it were to be found 4 levels down, in the sports department. Very odd.

Singapore continues to puzzle and to delight, in more or less equal measure, and I think we have barely scratched the surface. I'll do my best to keep digging and reporting back, so please do your bit and keep reading.

Hot and wet

No, not the sequel to the Vagina Monologues mentioned in the last edition of Izinsing, but a description of the Singapore climate. I know I've mentioned the weather before, but this reference is more by way of a whimsical musing on the effects of the climate on the individual - in this case, the lovely Chris and myself.

First, the good news. The humidity keeps your skin soft, even if - like me - you are not someone who slathers on body lotion every day. However, the bad news about the good news is that, as soon as you go back to the UK, you feel like a crisp.

The heat also helps with any little rheumaticky twinges that begin to develop with the advance of the years, you can wear summer clothes all year round, swim outdoors every day and never have to worry about the central heating. I have no scientific proof of this next advantage (or disadvantage, depending on your point of view), but I am sure that the tropical climate has the same effect on hair and nails as it does on the lush greenery that surrounds us here.

My hair seems to grow much more quickly here than it did in London, and the same is true of Chris's toenails (probably too much information, that last piece?). Having come to Singapore with short hair, I have now let it grow long enough to do up in a french plait (or pleat, for the Scots among my readership). There comes a point in a woman's life when long hair is just wrong, but I have decided I'm some way off that point, and will continue to ignore the passing of the years as long as it suits me.

Hot and wet could also be a description of some of the movies I have seen over the last week during the Singapore French Film Festival. Most of them will probably never come your way, but it is definitely worth trying to see "Bienvenue chez les Ch'tis" if you get the chance. It is absolutely hilarious - the story of a French postal manager from the south of France who is trying to get a transfer to the Riviera to help his wife's depression. Things go wrong, and he ends up getting transferred to the far north of France instead - the land of the "Ch'tis" of the film's title. When he tells his friends where he is going, they are shocked and sympathetic - believing that he is going to a cold, dark, miserable, hell, full of disused coal mines and drunken inhabitants who speak an incomprehensible dialect. When he gets there of course, it turns out to be somewhat different. I read somewhere that Hollywood is planning to make a US version of the film. Oh dear.

The humour of Bienvenue chez les Ch'tis was not typical of the other festival offerings, alas, and one of them - Le dernier des fous - was just about the saddest film I have ever seen. Unless you are entertained by the progressive collapse of a troubled family culminating in the shooting of mum, dad and grandma by the 10 year old son, I would say this is definitely one to avoid.

Vroom vroom!

This time last week, Chris and I were getting ready to go the Singapore Grand Prix - the first I'd ever been to, the first one ever held in Singapore and the first ever GP night race. Before we went, I wasn't sure I would enjoy it, but I found myself completely caught up in the excitement of the race. What I hadn't anticipated was the noise. The people who were entertaining us had provided earplugs, which was just as well as the noise would have been deafening without them. It wasn't just the noise, it was the vibration too; I was sitting outside drinking water from a plastic glass, and the rim of the glass started to rattle against my teeth as the cars went past. If you click on the link below, you'll see some great pictures, of the race, and of Singapore looking absolutely stunning.

http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2008/09/the_singapore_grand_prix.html.

Bringing F1 to Singapore is just one of a number of changes going on here. When we first arrived, just over a year ago, I couldn't imagine hearing the the C word used in a public performance, but last week that's exactly what happened at Singapore's staging of The Vagina Monologues. And it didn't stop with the actress, she had the whole audience chanting along with her. It was a great night, at one of the theatres I'd not been to before - the Drama Centre theatre - which is inside the National Library. The National Library is a stunning building, with two outdoor gardens inside (if that makes sense) ; one of them is pictured at the top right. The National Library traces its history back to the establishment of the first public library, suggested by Sir Stamford Raffles himself, the founder of modern Singapore.

Singapore is really serious about the business of reading. When Singapore gained its independence from Malaysia in 1965 and the country's population spread into the suburbs, libraries were established in the new towns built by the Housing and Development Board (HDB). The HDB is responsible for public housing in Singapore, a big responsibility since almost 90% of the population lives in HDB housing, largely in "new towns" like Woodlands and Tampines. These townships are self-contained entities, with shops, restaurants and other services included as part of the build. The government, through the HDB, uses public housing to promote social cohesion by ensuring that no particular racial group concentrates together in townships or estates. While living in public housing is seen as a stigma in some countries, this is not true of Singapore, where most of the residential housing developments are publicly built. There seems, in fact, to be very little poverty in Singapore, and very little crime also. Doubtless, the two are connected.

Cheesecake

You are probably wondering why the subject of cheesecake deserves a post of its own. Unless you are my sister, of course, who will understand perfectly. She and I are big fans of cheesecake - the New York, baked variety, so imagine our surprise - and delight - when we arrived in Singapore to find that it is ubiquitous - and occurs in so many different varieties that it could almost be thought of as the national dessert (unless durian pudding has already claimed that title).

So where is it to be found? Well, for a start, most of the big hotels have a patisserie which both serves cake and sells it on a takeaway basis. You can buy a single slice, or a whole cake, and you can choose from plain, Oreo, chocolate, chocolate walnut, chocolate chip, chocolate mocha marble, blueberry, orange macadamia, apple nut, strawberry, mango almond, tutti frutti, toffee, to name but a few - honestly!

My favourite so far is a seasonal cheesecake - made only for Chinese New Year. It is tangerine flavoured, as tangerines and oranges play a big part in the new year celebrations and are passed out freely during the festival ( because the words for tangerine and orange sound like luck and wealth, respectively). It is decorated with mini tangerines, made - I think - of white chocolate and both looks and tastes gorgeous.

The availability and variety of cheesecake in Singapore stand in sharp contrast to my early experiences. I spent almost 17 years in Aberdeen during the 70s and 80s, and it was not possible to get some of the foods that we now take for granted - pitta bread and cheesecake to name but two. Having fallen in love with pitta bread on a holiday in Greece, I found a recipe and made it at home. Tasted fine, but a bit of a palaver, quite frankly. My friend Lins and I were gutted when M&S stopped making their American cheesecake, and spent some of the best years of our twenties in pursuit of the ultimate cheesecake recipe, and the ultimate pair of black trousers. Because we had very limited success with the former, we were able to fit into the latter when we managed to locate them!

I'm still composing the review of the Oktoberfest, so keep reading.......

The expat weekend

It is Saturday, 20th September 2008, the end of one of the most surreal weeks in the financial industry. For those of you who have not been following the press, recents events have been described variously as "the end of investment banking", "the latest terrifying phase of the credit crunch" and "massive humiliation for Wall Street" (there are many who would say this last one is no bad thing). However, I am no financial journalist, and this blog was never meant to be a running commentary on the financial markets, so I will leave it there.

One of the best things about our life here in Singapore is the weekend. Because we have live-in help, in the form of the lovely Ding (real name Ester, but she has been called Ding ever since she was a child), we don't have to spend the weekend doing chores - luxury! A typical weekend involves a lie-in, since I normally get up pretty early, a visit to the gym, a movie or two, eating out on Sunday, which is Ding's day off - perhaps brunch (see previous post "War on Buffet" from April) at one of the many fabulous bruncherias on the island, or a visit to one of Singapore's many festivals, like the Singapore River Festival which starts this weekend. This is a first for Singapore - but it sounds a lot of fun - so I hope it becomes an annual event.

The festival is set along the Singapore river, and its various events will celebrate the elements of water and Singapore's heritage. There will be lots of music, outdoor parties, and of course, eating opportunities, many of which will take place at Clarke Quay. I'm not sure if I've written about Ckarke Quay before, but it's one of the first places I encountered on my very first trip to Singapore - when I came here for my interview in early 2007 - as my hotel was just around the corner.

Clarke Quay is Singapore's premier entertainment district; it's full of clubs, bars, restaurants and nightspots and really comes alive when the sun goes down. It's located near the mouth of the Singapore river and was the centre of commerce during the late 19th century - although obviously lacking the clubs, bars, nightspots etc., which are situated in a number of different blocks, based on the "godowns" of yesteryear (a godown was a dockside warehouse or storage area). Many of the restaurants are housed in old shophouses - an architectural form unique to South East Asia and a wonderful piece of Singapore's heritage.

A shophouse - there's a clue in the name - consists of a shop on the ground floor and residential accommodation upstairs. They were typically built in longish terraces - sometimes a whole street's worth and have narrow fronts and very deep rears (as it were). The residential part was meant to house one or more families, who may or may not have been connected to the commerce beneath. Many old shophouses have been converted into business premises, but many have become modern-day dwellings. There are lots of shophouses on Boat Quay, which is very close to where I work - and is host to Harry's Bar, where Nick Leeson used to hang out. The picture at the top is Boat Quay, with the CBD (central business district) in the background. I often have lunch on Boat Quay, and never fail to think how fortunate I am, to be living and working here.

This weekend started on a cultural note - with a visit to the launch of a book of poems by a friend of ours - Hsien Min Toh. You can see him if you follow the link below. He was launching and reading from his latest collection, called Means To An End, and I bought two copies, one for me and one for my friend Steve, who will, I think, appreciate both the sentiments and the language of the work. Let me know what you think, Steve. It's on its way.

http://home.pacific.net.sg/~hsienmin/

Tonight's outing is to the Oktoberfest night at the Swiss Club, with a couple of Singapore friends. Oktoberfest in September I hear you ask? Good question, but the real thing in Munich starts in September and runs for 16 days into October apparently. I'm really looking forward to it, which is quite strange as I'm not the biggest fan of beer, or bratwurst, so I'll probably spend the evening with a sauerkraut sandwich and a glass of dry white wine. With any luck there will be singing and group dances - heaven for the extravert in me, since I never seem to find anyone to go out to play at a Karaoke club with me.

Just another meltdown Monday

Who would have thought? I am posting this on Tuesday 16th September, the day after Lehman Brothers went to the wall. Two of my dearest friends work there, and my heart goes out to them. It feels to me as if we are seeing history in the making - a financial services equivalent of the tearing down of the Berlin wall. I have worked in HR in the financial markets for 21 years and I don't believe I have ever seen anything like it. So what happens next? Damned if I know, but I'll keep you posted as I work it out.

One year in.......

Dear readers (I can say readers with confidence, because a number of you have taken me to task for not posting anything recently), I am back at the keyboard and brimful of reflections, so sit back and get reading.

It has been just over a year since we first came to Singapore - the end of July, 2007 - and what a year it has been. There was little notion of the impending turmoil in the financial markets, Bear Sterns was alive and kicking and my friends at Lehman Brothers were hard at work for one of Wall Street's most prestigious firms. I feel immensely fortunate to be working in the Asian markets at this time, in a growing business, but, as my CEO is wont to observe, there is no room for complacency.

We returned to Singapore from a holiday at our house in France last week. It was a delicious break, and some friends came over to join us in surprise (early) birthday celebration, which began with dinner at the Domaine d'Auriac (pictured, - no, that's not a picture of our house) - and ended with a firework display on the hill behind our house. We had been to the restaurant before with a group of some of the same friends for my 40th, which just seems like yesterday but appears, in reality, to have been xxxxxxx years ago! How did that happen? At moments like this I am tempted to quote T.S Eliot's lines from The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock:

I grow old … I grow old …
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

if only I knew what he meant. Re-reading the poem just now brings back memories of secondary school - probably in 4th or 5th year - and studying that particular piece. I don't think I got what he was talking about at all, but 30 something years on, it strikes a chord. In case you're feeling poetic, here's some more:

Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question …
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

Talking of poetry, I am sure you have been missing my haiku film reviews. That said, I do not think that I could convey the necessary level of enthusiasm for my latest two recommendations in a mere 17 syllables. We have just returned from seeing Wall-E (recommended by my friend Steve, who has great taste in movies, food and friends) and it was a complete delight. A robot love story - strangely touching - and possibly a political commentary on our disposable society (less sure about this) but one of my must see recommendations. At the gritty end of the scale is In Bruges, which I saw on the flight back from London. It's the story of two hit men - one played by Colin Farrell - who have to spend some time in Bruges after a hit goes wrong. It is by turns very funny, dramatic and sad, and absolutely made me want to visit Bruges at Christmas time.

So what does it feel like to be in our second year as expats in Singapore? Well, some things have become completely familiar, yet we are still discovering the new also. Singapore is full of traditions, as I have said before, and this is the season of the mooncake festival.

Mooncakes are Chinese pastries traditionally eaten during the Mid-Autumn Festival. They are typically round or rectangular and measure about 10 cm in diameter and are quite thick. The filling is thick too - and very rich. There are modern versions, but the traditional mooncake filling is made from lotus seed paste and contains whole egg yolks. They are rich, heavy, and very dense compared with most Western cakes and pastries and are usually eaten in small wedges accompanied by Chinese tea. An acquired taste for the Western palate, I think.

National Day

We won't be in Singapore for this year's National Day, which is a shame really, as it's a big event. I've mentioned before in the blog how much I think Singapore punches above its weight, and it's a fiercely proud nation/city/island/country - take your pick. This pride is much in evidence on National Day, and the effort that goes into rehearsal. National Day is celebrated on 9th August, the date Singapore gained its independence from Malaysia in 1965.

The National Day Parade is the grandest national event in Singapore. The celebrations finish with an amazing firework display and feature all sorts of exhibitions, including Singapore's equivalent of the Red Arrows, who practice their stuff for months in advance of the parade - mostly outside the windows of our apartment block it would appear.

For those of you who are regular readers, here are some facts about Singapore:

Singapore is among the 20 smallest countries in the world, with a total land area of only 682.7 square kilometres. The USA is about 15,000 times bigger.

Apart from Monaco, Singapore is the most densely populated country in the world.

The Bukit Timah Nature Reserve in Singapore contains more species of trees than the entire North American continent.

The largest fountain in the world is located in Singapore at Suntec City. It cost an estimated US$6 million to build in 1997 (and it is very ugly, by the way!).

In 2003, Singapore's Changi Airport won the award for "Best Airport Worldwide" for the 16th consecutive year from the UK/Europe edition of the Business Traveller magazine.

The record for the biggest ever game of pass-the-parcel was set in Singapore on 28 February 1998. It involved 3,918 students removing 2,200 wrappers from a 1.5 x 1.5 x 0.5 m parcel.

British pop violinist Vanessa Mae Nicholson was born in Singapore and moved to England when she was four.

The most common Chinese surnames in Singapore are Tan, Lim and Lee.

8 in 10 people in Singapore own cell phones. In fact, telecom companies issue new numbers at the rate of 30,000 to 40,000 per month.

Singapore's best showing in the Olympic Games ever was a silver medal won by weightlifter Tan Howe Liang in Rome in 1960. Maybe they will have better luck in Beijing!

Shanghai'd

Just back from Shanghai - my second visit there since we moved to Singapore - and I was blown away. Funny really, since the first time I went, in August last year, it barely made an impression. What was different this time was that I had the chance to spend some time outside of offices and hotels, and have a look round the older part of Shanghai - called Puxi (pronounced Pusee). In fact, the newer part of Shanghai - Pudong - is very new indeed. What is now a thriving commercial centre, with state of the art buildings, was farmland 15 years ago. Since it now looks like this (above), it's hard to believe the transformation.


Whenever I travel to places like China, I tend to be a bit challenged by the food (those of you who have read my post on "slippy food" will know what I mean). I'm sure this means I miss out on some amazing culinary opportunities, but there you have it. Walking through the French Concession in Puxi (the area of Shanghai originally designed for the French, and full of lovely old buildings as well as being the home of Shanghai's cafe society and club scene),) I came across a restaurant in a small park (or large garden, depending on your point of view - make up your own mind from the picture below).



Luckily for me, there were plenty of prawn dishes as well as the restaurant specialities of marinated turnip skin, mustard marinated jellyfish and sliced whelk.


Back in Singapore, we are experiencing relatively poor weather, although I am loving the unusual sensation of feeling cool for a change. I'm sure it won't last. We are heading for France in August, and hosting a Langedocienne dinner for some of our Singapore friends just before we go, so next Friday Chris will be cooking duck confit with cassoulet and serving up goat's cheese with honey. If you're going to be in the neighbourhood, just let us know!