Singapore

Singapore, a 50-year-old country of five million Chinese, Malays, Indians, and Eurasians, is a letter-perfect picture-book currently unfolding the apparently real life story about a government that works, about a healthy population that works hard, about a modernity that climbs towards some type of futuristic efficiency, about an escalator that crawls when you're off and, motion detector alerted, accelerates when you're on.

It's supported by a big brother government, sure, but an odd, kind, transparent big brother at that. It's bolstered by the financial and biomedical sectors, and, ensuing, blazoned by luxury brands and hotels. It's framed by fishable, windsurfable, divable water.

The only question left: where is the culture?

The culture and excitement are wholly concentrated at the hawker food centers spread throughout the country. Family, friends, family and friends gather here to eat from their favorite stall or share plates from different vendors. Cafeteria seating and price, yet gourmet ingredients: from bbq pork (char siew) to crocodile stew (not bad, really), from papaya salad to mango pomelo to durian (see below) -- your sweet, sour, spicy, and salty comes in all its variations. Leonard (pictured to my left), my Dad's colleague's nephew, was a great host taking us to his favorite two hawker centers. We ate, and ate, yet still didn't cover everything on his must eat list. We'll just have to return.

King of Fruits

Singapore is known for its strict laws.  Some people find them suffocating, others feel that the laws make life in Singapore quite pleasant.  No second hand smoke, no whiffs of someone's double cheese burger during your subway commute, and no spontaneous flame dance performances (we actually saw quite a few in Turkey).  Citizens conform to the laws or face harsh punishments, like fines or jail time.  When I saw this sign though, I had to wonder . . .

. . . what's a durian??

Leonard, the nephew of Mr. Whyte's colleague, had the answer of course.  He was a fountain of information about Singapore and, having spent 4 years in the US for university, was able to point out differences between the two countries.  

A pile of durians at a fruit stall

Durians are known as the king of fruits in Southeast Asia.  According to my friend Wiki, "Some people regard the durian as fragrant; others find the aroma overpowering and offensive. The smell evokes reactions from deep appreciation to intense disgust and has been described variously as almonds, rotten onions, turpentine and gym socks. The odor has led to the fruit's banishment from certain hotels and public transportation in southeast Asia."  I guess it's not just Big Brother in Singapore that has excluded the fruit from public areas.

Andrew trying the edible inside of a durian with Leonard awaiting his reaction

The only question about Singapore Leonard couldn't answer - and I wish I had a picture for this one- was:  "So, how come all the cats are missing part of their tails . . . ?"

MalASIA time

After kissing and, between sobs, taking small bites of my last piece of Turkish baklava, we said see you later, Istanbul.

And hello, Kuala Lumpur! How these crazy kidz get around.

KL, Malaysia, is one of the major hubs for domestic and international flights in Southeast Asia. We're heading to Singapore tomorrow, and then making our way to Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Philippines, and then back home in December. Expect nothing but fantastic stories, like Larissa's Muay Thai match in Bangkok, or Andrew becoming a vegetarian and not eating a large helping of bbq pork over noodles and not going back four hours later for a second helping.

Another Wedding!

Lucky us!  Ferial's (our fairy godmother from Pastoral Vadi) sister got married in Istanbul this weekend.  The henna night - named for the last event of the evening when the bride, and then the female guests, smear henna paste into the palms of their hands, creating a circular orange stain lasting a few days (representing one's good wishes towards the newly weds) - was Thursday night.  I got henna-ed too!  A crowd of older women gathered round, very excited that their American guest was joining in.

Henna night was the beginning of the celebration.  Family and friends gathered to dance to traditional music, tried to swap a few sentences over the extremely enthusiastic oboe player (earning tips for particularly triumphant blasts), and danced some more. 

Today was the ceremony and party.  We took the rapid MetroBus to the outskirts of Istanbul, desperately searched for an ATM and Nescafe to go, power-walked through parking lots parallel a highway, and arrived to a warm welcome.  There was dancing, eating, smiling, gold coins and cash pinned onto the bride's veil and the groom's sash, and pinches from a Bulgarian grandmother.  What a day.  And what a great way to wrap up our stay in Istanbul.
 

A Farmer's Feast

I love food.  I may have even thought twice about this trip if chocolate crosiants, gelato, curry, and pad thai, weren't so magical when eaten in their home countries.  Fruits, vegetables, baklava, gozleme, and these little cheese-stuffed breads are among the bounty Turkey has to offer.  I'm also interested in how food works in different countries and cultures: who can afford what, how food is produced, people's tastes, special customs, how food knowledge is passed on, etc. I've really enjoyed strolling through markets in Provence, learning recipes in Italy, and trying grilled squid while overlooking the Mediteranean in Greece.  Who wouldn't? =)  Turkish cuisines is one of my favorite so far, and the price is just right. 

Anyone who's ever shopped at the Union Square Farmer's Market can tell you that the setting is beautiful, the flowers are fresh, the food looks delicious, but it's expensive!  Sure there are deals on seasonal items here and there.  A bunch of basil in July for $1.  But $9 for a pound of, albeit perfect, little tomatoes?  Organic food bought at farmers markets is usually more expensive than comparable items in the supermarket. 

Union Square farmer's market in Manhattan

Having worked on organic farms, I understand part of the price premium.

Merhaba

Istanbul. Istanbul! Istanbul.

Let's see.

We started with my family--Brendan, Emily, Nick, Mom & Dad. From the 8 star apartment (mix fixtures such as chairs, couches, and pillows; add hot water; celebrate), we took Istanbul's streets by storm: bazaars, mosques, museums, fishing villages along the Bosphorous, Turkish cooking experiments at home, local eateries, nights spent walking around with the Ramazan crowd, quiet nights spent with baklava, wine, and good company.

The week's only drawback was its length.

Outside the Blue Mosque

Now, Larissa and I are both incredibly intelligent world travelers; we are four months into a very important trip whose very importance should be studied -- or thought about over some coffee, perhaps, or maybe, even, I mean c'mon just glance at the blog when you have nothing to do, will you?--by all.

As a result, no such instances occur in which, having just said goodbye to my parents and therefore their itineraries and guidance, a taxi driver drops Larissa and I off at the wrong destination and drives off with the change (my baklava money, dammit!). We're smarter than that.

We may or may not have then walked to our new apartment, where we still reside a week later and for at least one week more. Our apartment?! We met and friended a late 20s/early 30s couple vacationing at Pastoral Vadi -- our most recent help exchange location. We got along mighty well, and they, Nazlihan and Kemal, informed us that they have a spare apartment in Istanbul, unused and with our name on it if ever needed. Such altruism is equally humbling and inspiring.

We took them up on their offer once our Indian work visa was rejected (see a few posts below). And we've spent the time here figuring out a new plan for September and October, which we'll blog about next. We've also, as usual, been up to no good:

Exploring!

Larissa crossing a bridge! The Galata Bridge

Hanging out with friends

Nazlihan, our friend/host, at the farmer's market. We made them beef bourguignon and chocolate chip cookies (rare in Turkey), and it was awesome.

Breakfast with Hande, an Istanbul resident and law student who volunteered at Pastoral Vadi with us.

Eating baklava

With vanilla ice cream, it's serious

Caring for Dante

Kemal and Nazlihan's golden retriever challenges me each day. "Do ye not comprehend that we are worms born to bring forth the angelic butterfly that flieth unto judgment without screen?”, he asks me, and then adds, "Feed me."