Diary of an Expat in Singapore (24 page)

Kids go down to play in their secret dug-out in the faraway place in the condo. Armed with mosquito patches and water bottles, they meet up with other kids and play until it’s time for dinner.

Lights out

Alexander reads ‘Naruto’ and Eliot listens to me read Oscar Wilde’s ‘The Selfish Giant’. After I mention my favourite quote by the author, “We are all in the gutter but some of us are looking at the stars,” they rush to the window to look at the stars. Eliot points to the moon and says her first word in Italian:
luna
. As a parent, expat or not, I can honestly say it doesn’t get any better than this.

Queensway

Yesterday, I went to my favourite place in the whole world: the third floor of the Queensway Shopping Centre in Singapore. Those who know me are aware that I avoid shopping malls like the plague; in fact, I only enter Ion Orchard with my husband because I’m convinced it’s been especially designed for me to walk in and never walk out again. And if we go to Takashimaya, he goes shopping and I wait for him in Kinokuniya bookshop.

So why the Queensway Shopping Centre? I go there about once a year to get invitations printed out and there is something surreal about the people working the printers. Most of the time, they don’t know what I’m asking for. Though I’ve been there at least ten times they never recognize me, and in the past they have even denied that I’ve been there. It’s like stepping into the Twilight Zone. So why do I go back? First of all, I am a creature of habit and I resist change at all costs. But also for sentimental reasons. In fact, it’s like a walk down memory lane. Four years ago, when I first arrived in Singapore, I was finishing my dissertation from the University of Sydney. In what were some of the hairiest hours of my academic life, the ‘layout’ team and printers held my future in their hands as they printed out the hard copies that I would then need to submit and mail for the board to evaluate back at the university. Bated breath doesn’t even begin to describe my feverish state at the time. So now when I go back to print whimsical birthday cards for my kids, no matter how many glitches or how many times I can’t understand their pronunciation of the word
layout
, it really is just a walk in the park!

The condo

Black-and-white houses are an institution in Singapore. A throwback to colonial times. But along with the prestige there are a few things you should know before moving into one, namely snakes. Can’t remember the other ones. I think my mind went blank after I heard the reptile word.

So give me a high-rise condo any day. Air con, pools, tennis courts, playground. Although: there is something unsettling about the fact that, like on an airplane, where nobody pays the same price for their ticket, rents are bizarrely different. Also, the guards keep changing every year, which is allegedly for security issues. Isn’t that a bit of a contradiction since they’re the ones hired in the first place to protect us? The day after their year is up they suddenly turn… like CIA agents gone rogue?

Changi Airport

As I watch my kids grow up in Southeast Asia, I like to think they have opportunities I never dreamed of having as a child growing up in Verona. They are exposed to different cultures and realities, they eat spicy curries and they travel to exotic places. I recall smiling proudly as my son announced at two that his sandcastle was the Great Wall of China, and when my daughter insisted on singing Happy Birthday in Chinese. Which is why I find it vaguely disconcerting to hear my son say on the taxi ride to the airport on a recent trip to Bali: “But I want to go to Hawaii,” and my daughter answering: “Yeah, I want to see the snow.” Am I doing something wrong? Like not hanging a big enough map at home? On the plus side, they now know Bali, unlike the rest of Indonesia, is 85% Hindu, that you can order mee goreng even for breakfast, and that bringing Harry Potter is a good idea at a hotel with no TV and no kids’ club. On a final note, there are no children in Ubud, Bali. This is a good thing… unless, of course, you are travelling with yours.

My house

Especially when the kids have their whopping three-week (you’ve got to be kidding me) Chinese New Year school holiday. During the 100 hours of non-stop rain that occurred in Singapore, we stayed indoors sorting through old papers, making our own comic books, and watching movies. Lots of them, like ‘Annie’, ‘Cinema Paradiso’, ‘Billy Elliot’, and ‘Bend It Like Beckham’. Alexander’s first movie at three was ‘Amelie’ so he’s no problem and will watch absolutely
any
movie: ‘Volver’, ‘The Bicycle Thief’, you name it. With five-year-old Eliot we have to occasionally resort to sophisticated tactics to get her to sit through an entire movie. I mean, what were the chances of there really being a princess or a witch coming up soon in ‘Bend It Like Beckham’?

After the movie, I crank up the music and the kids dance all over the house. Our idea of fun. The music is quite eclectic too and can go quickly from musicals to hip hop to classic rock (I wonder what this will do to them?). Then, we all sit on the sofa and they ask me to tell them stories about Josie and Milly, my great-aunts who moved to America from Italy when they were little (back in the days when expats were called immigrants). We usually end up with mugs of hot chocolate and books scattered all over the sofa, reading next to each other. Now, that’s my kind of play date.

The university library

Sitting in the sleek and modern surroundings of one of the most esteemed universities in Singapore, surrounded by students working on their laptops, I read the Herald Tribune, prepare my lesson, and look forward to hearing their comments, which are always more honest and relevant than the evening news. There have been many libraries in my life. My primary school library, where I attempted reading all the books in alphabetical order, and the gorgeous library at Vassar College, where I spent most of my free time during college. I remember one rainy Sunday afternoon, walking in with Dostoevsky’s ‘Crime and Punishment’ and only walking out after I finished the entire book.

Kitchenette cafe at Goldhill Plaza

After dropping off my kids at school, watching them wave goodbye, I go to this local cafe, where the waitress knows my name and asks me if I want the usual. As I drink my coffee and write in my notebook, I realize that this was my dream all along. These are the days I will one day remember. If only they had brown sugar.

Botanic Gardens