We Could Be in Florida

That was my first impression during the drive from the airport to Fraser Place, our new domicile. Except for the fact that Singaporeans drive on the left side of road (and that everyone is Asian), at first glance Singapore looks a lot like Florida. The color of the buildings, the foliage, the temperature and breeze all reminded me of the home of the grandmothers.

The similarities ended as we plunged into settling into our temporary home. The first day's order of business: change some money and buy some groceries. Our neighborhood consists of serviced and regular apartment complexes, many with shopping centers on the bottom floors. We headed to Liang Court to change money and back to UE2, across the street from Robertson Walk, where Fraser Place is, to our new supermarket, Cold Storage.

Navigating the unfamiliar aisles at the food store made me homesick. Our weekly trip to Whole Foods was a bedrock in our routine, not unlike some families' Sunday (or Saturday) pilgrimages. The fruit selection was disappointing (apples and oranges? I can get those in Boston; we're in the tropics for heaven's sake!). The origins of the food were surprising, too. Singapore, apparently, doesn't have much by way of agriculture. Almost everything was imported, which grates my "buy local" mantra. Hardly anything was organic, and if it was, it was most likely imported from the U.S. (I was momentarily tempted by a half gallon of Organic Valley milk, until I saw that it was S$16-->US$11.) We bought Thai milk, New Zealand cheese, Chinese pears, Australian yogurt, and Skippy peanut butter (among other things).

While I certainly felt better than after any previous trip to Asia--thanks to business class--fatigue and weariness settled in. After nap that afternoon, Sam, in complete meltdown mode, repeated, "Bye-Bye," echoing my sentiment that maybe we were better off at home.

We spent the afternoon exploring Fraser Place, locating the pool and indoor and outdoor children's play areas. Sam's mood lightened as he kicked a beach ball around with Pat, while I struggled to stay awake with Finn on a nearby bench. For dinner, we ventured out to a local restaurant, and finally, I felt like I was in Asia: three-dollar chicken and rice plates while sitting on curbside plastic stools as cars and motorcycles whizzed by.

We kept the boys up as late as we could--six o'clock--and decided we'd better sleep when they sleep. We were disheartened to wake up and discover it wasn't even midnight yet. On the bright side, we got to hear the square below count down to midnight and then the subsequent fireworks. Happy New Year!