Friday, April 08, 2005
City of the Lion
In Singapore for a couple of days. Experiencing total reverse culture shock. All signs in English. My son grabbed a a Coke and fries at the airport McDonald’s as soon as we landed (no junk food except KFC in VN). Much greener than I expected. Went to the Night Safari and experienced the best zoological tour I’ve ever had…lions lurking in the darkened woods, huge bearded pigs rooting through underbrush, a massive boa lurking in a wooden box under the seats at the show.
The driver who took us from our hotel up to the zoo spoke impeccable English and was insanely punctual. “We used to be like Vietnam 40 years ago,” he told me. “But you know what changed us? Transparency. You get it wherever you go.” He was talking about transparency in prices, laws, processes, the boring glue that holds together a prosperous, solid country. The traffic was right at the edge of a traffic jam (it was rush hour) but not quite. “Whenever one car gets junked, someone else is allowed to buy and register another car. Not until then.” His talk about law and order was a little scarier: “First time you steal anything, you get four years in jail and six canings. No way out.”
As we stopped at a downtown intersection I noticed my son could have fit well into the group of people (not a crowd—haven’t seen any crowds anywhere yet) crossing the street: sleek black clothes, electronic devices hanging off the belt and ear, faces wearing a mix of urbanity and Asian low-keyness.
The driver who took us from our hotel up to the zoo spoke impeccable English and was insanely punctual. “We used to be like Vietnam 40 years ago,” he told me. “But you know what changed us? Transparency. You get it wherever you go.” He was talking about transparency in prices, laws, processes, the boring glue that holds together a prosperous, solid country. The traffic was right at the edge of a traffic jam (it was rush hour) but not quite. “Whenever one car gets junked, someone else is allowed to buy and register another car. Not until then.” His talk about law and order was a little scarier: “First time you steal anything, you get four years in jail and six canings. No way out.”
As we stopped at a downtown intersection I noticed my son could have fit well into the group of people (not a crowd—haven’t seen any crowds anywhere yet) crossing the street: sleek black clothes, electronic devices hanging off the belt and ear, faces wearing a mix of urbanity and Asian low-keyness.
