We decided to head over to Sentosa island, which is an island off the southern tip of Singapore. I suspect the name of the island is related to the word “santosha,” which is the second niyama in Patanjali’s yoga.

To get to the island, we took a tram. Here are a few pictures from the trip:

We went to the island to see a butterfly… um, I’m not sure what the term is. The equivalent of an aviary for birds.

On the way, though, we spotted a snake charmer. He opened the basket, and there was an albino python. Which for some reason, I felt (with a bit of egging on from Anne) was okay to drape around my neck:

The others were amused. Kind of:

I wish I could explain how cool that snake felt. It was very strong and muscular, but it seemed very light at the same time. A very delicate life force.

Once I’d (somewhat reluctantly) returned the snake, we went on to view the butterflies. All of my photos came out pretty poorly, as the butterflies were on the move for the most part. Here are a couple, though:

Last night we went to the Singapore Zoo. Very cool. Lots of smaller animals and some big game (lions, giraffes, elephants), which you view by monorail (well, actually, it’s more a series of electric segmented carts that you are driven around in). No flash photography allowed — so sorry, no pictures.

The jungle where the zoo is located is quite a prominent player in the whole experience. The zoo is set up rather like the San Diego zoo, so the environment is important. It was interesting to drive through what is essentially a 6 foot swath cut through the heart of the jungle on the northern end of the island. If you look up at the lights scattered about the zoo, you see a continuous updraft of water in the air — a fine mist, 24/7. And as always, people-watching was great: Indians, Chinese, Germans, English, Malays, Aussies. I even think I heard a little French.

This morning, I’m heading over to the yoga studio. I just found out that the teacher I am practicing with here in Singapore studies with Matthew Sweeney, the Australian teacher who, when I was asked to come to Singapore, I considered taking a side trip to practice with. As it turns out though, he is doing a workshop in Minnesota in July — so I opted for that instead. Still, a surprisingly small world.

After yoga practice, we’ll do a little exploring. JC asked if we’d seen a Taoist temple. Perhaps we can find one today. In the meantime, dude, here’s a link to the oldest Taoist temple on the island.

Tonight we’re slated to head back to the river. Had a tip from a native about the best restaurant for seafood, so will go check that out.

We fly out tomorrow. Car picks us up at 10:30 AM. Which means I can sneak in another yoga session tomorrow morning before we go. Nice.

I open the serving tray and there they are. Puffy little round white buns with a green dot on the very top. I select one, put it on my plate, and… are those forks by the serving tray? Yup. All lined up nice and neat — a bunch of forks. A Singaporean is standing relatively close by, so I decide to just ask for help.

“Do you use forks for these, or just your hands?” I ask.

“Fork?” he asks, incredulously. Then he laughs uproariously. “No, no. Just hands!”

Okay, why are the forks there, then?? He shrugs when I point at them.

Green tea steamed buns are unbelievably good. From the very first bite, I realize that I’ll be craving these things when I’m back home in the US. I’m already plotting ways to track down and access a supply for future consumption.

Oh, and for all the designers on the team who abhor mushrooms: Singapore restaurants offer an astonishing array of the yummiest mushrooms ever! Mushrooms and rice noodles! What a great place this is.

Since last I wrote, we went to a restaurant for Peranakan food.

We had buah keluak, which includes what looks like black rocks, or perhaps some kind of mussel. The woman serving our food showed us that they’d cut the top of the nut open, and that you scoop the center out with your spoon. It is black and the texture quite reminded me of meat. Definitely the most interesting thing I’ve eaten in years. The spices in Peranakan cuisine are unlike anything I’ve ever tried, and quite delicious. It feels like comfort food, but comfort food that is entirely unfamiliar!

Speaking of unfamiliar foods, I had the best thing for breakfast. Aloe vera yogurt. Mmmm. It reminded me a bit of rose lassi, which is one of my favorite things. Delicate and sweet. With little bits of aloe in it. I wonder if I can find it in the US…

Yesterday was the first day of conference. Approximately 200 compensation and benefits and total rewards professionals, primarily from Asia Pacific (with a few attendees from the Americas thrown in for good measure). Everyone seemed happy to be here. I am still astonished by the many accents you hear in Singapore. Chinese, Malaysian, Indian, Aussie and New Zealander, Japanese, Filipino.

And in other fork-related sightings: At break yesterday, the hotel served finger sandwiches. Yup, you guessed it: everyone used forks to eat them. I was kind of chuckling inside, thinking of the Seinfeld episode where people started a fad of eating Snickers bars with forks and knives.

In the evening, we had a networking dinner. One of our keynote speakers suggested that one could do a psychological evaluation of people based on their favorite Simpsons character. And then he confided that his personal favorite is Krusty the Clown. I asked if he would somehow work that into his speech and he said he’d see what he can do.

Tonight we’re going on what is called the “night safari.” Pictures to follow…

So Starbucks it was. I now have enough of a sense of where I am to know what direction Starbucks lies in, so I headed off. I was, of course, stymied by the gates that keep you off the curbs. Then there was a sign for an overpass that I could see, but couldn’t find a door to. So I stayed on street level until I spotted a few people jaywalking. Woohoo! That’s the ticket. I followed along and finally made it to the Starbucks I often drove past in taxis, but which had remained so frustratingly elusive.

At Singapore Starbucks, they do not make you say “grande” or “venti” or anything like that. I said “small,” and the fellow behind the counter was a-okay with that. And yes, he could make me a soy chai latte. I’m not sure if this is Starbucks policy or not, but it seems like they hire people with exceptional English.

A woman served me the scone I requested, and asked me if I wanted a fork. I was perplexed for a moment. “Am I supposed to use a fork?” I tried to remember. “Greatest Hits of John Lennon” was playing in the store, which somehow helped me to remember that no, I don’t need a fork for a scone. The woman at the counter seemed interested in my response, which made me wonder if Singaporeans usually ask for forks.

Behind me, two men ordered “Coffee Americano.” I thought this was fascinating, particularly since I have no idea what it might mean. Is it just plain coffee?

I took my forkless scone and sat down with the Singapore newspaper. The scene at Starbucks is quite cosmopolitan. Lots of Australians around, and trendy looking Singaporeans. More John Lennon songs. When we got to “Mind Games,” I felt a huge wave of nostalgia, which surprised and amused me. I am hardly an expatriate, seeing as I’m only here for a week. But somehow, the music made me feel like I was far away from home, and that I’d been away for a long time. The soy chai latte wasn’t right, somehow. Too watery. Still, it was something of a treat. For the familiarity.

Like a fool, I decided to figure out a better way back to the hotel, and chose to go up into the overpass since I could find a door for it on this side of the street. It spit me out (after I saw my first indigent Singaporean sleeping in the stairwell) in an upscale mall. Oh God. My daughter is, I’m sure, laughing at the thought of me trying to make my way through a mall. I hate malls and don’t even know how to navigate the ones I’ve lived near for almost a decade. I went around in circles for a while and finally ended up outside again on the street. Which meant crossing about six lanes of crazy traffic to get to the other side.

Patience is the name of the game when it comes to crossing that many lanes of traffic. I wasn’t alone. There were other players. All of us made it across.

Now it’s back to work. Not sure where we’re going this evening, but I’ll be sure to get some pictures.

Here’s a Traveller’s Palm we passed by:

And here’s the river. The buildings by the shore are original structures from the 1800s. I love how they contrast with the newer buildings. All the colorful umbrellas are restaurants and cafes:

In the restaurant, there were a number of Buddhas. The lighting was quite idiosyncratic, and my camera is misbehaving, so I’m afraid you’re seeing a rather hallucinatory Buddha:

And here’s a picture of Buddha’s feet, guarded by two dragons, and being offered the ubiquitous incense. You can see the ash on Buddha’s feet. People burn incense all the time, everywhere. The flame you see is burning in jasmine-scented oil.

After dinner we took a river cruise. No, not in a yacht:

The cruise provided a great view of the city. People sit on the edge of the river (which is comprised of stone steps) or go to the colorfully lit outdoor restaurants. And all of this in front of a backdrop of huge skyscrapers. It is really quite an amazing sight. Pictures just don’t do this city justice. Particularly this one, which was taken when the boat was moving. But it gives a sense of the river at night:

“Do you know where it is?” I asked.

He said something that I think meant that yes, indeed, he knew where I wanted to go. I heard him say “Tower A,” which was part of the address, so I said, “Tower A? You know where it is?” He nodded, so I figured we were good.

When I am speaking to someone who is struggling with English, I slip into pidgin English, which can really only make the situation worse, but for some reason, I just can’t stop myself. If I could only stick to my normal speech patterns, things would probably go a lot easier.

So yes, I made it to the yoga studio, roughly. The cabbie got me to within three buildings of the one I wanted, so I was pretty happy. All I had to do was go to a couple of other buildings and ask the poor doormen (in my ridiculous pidgin English) where Tower A was. And voila, eventually I was there.

Getting back to the hotel was much easier, because it is a known entity to all of the cab drivers.

I guess the point of all if this is that one of the interesting things about this trip is that I never quite understand what is going on. Not terribly different from how things usually are with me, you say? Okay, point taken.

But it’s more pronounced, here in the midst of a different culture. My assumption that I know what’s happening is put to the test pretty much continuously. Take my trip to get coffee this morning, for example.

I had seen, on my various taxi rides, a Starbucks that was pretty close to the hotel. I made a point, on my return trip from yoga class, to try to understand exactly how to get to the Starbucks from the hotel. Sure enough, I could understand where I needed to go, but I couldn’t get there on foot. Singapore is a city of curving streets and tons of foliage and fences. Not so much sidewalks. And people drive the way people drive in India.

Crossing the street around here is NOT funny. And that isn’t even taking into account the fact that given the foliage and fences, you can’t tell whether there’s even a way to get to the street until you’ve waded into the foliage and found a fence. And there they are, a billion people driving by, watching you make a fool of yourself in the midst of their fine city’s landscaping.

I did eventually find, via a circuitous route, some coffee. No, the coffee shop wasn’t Starbucks, but the chances of me actually ever finding the Starbucks amid the thick foliage and hurtling cars and sudden decorative iron fences was remote right from the start. It was a plain old coffee shop. Fine. I went in, wondering if they would know what I meant if I ordered a latte. The man at the counter asked me something I couldn’t understand. He tried a couple of other phrases, then said, “Carry away?” Ah, yes! To go! Exactly right. I nodded.

The woman behind the counter said, “Sugar?” I shook my head. “No?” she asked, seeming surprised. Then she laughed. Oh dear.

At this point, the man said, “Cappucino, $5.” He wasn’t just sharing information; he was ringing me up. I hadn’t ordered anything yet, but there he was, handing me a cup. Okay, cappucino would be good.

And it was.

Orchids on display at the Taipei airport:

This evening, we went over to Chinatown for a walk, then into Little India for a little more exploring and a GREAT meal.

Sculpture at a Hindu temple:

At the temple, they had a firewalking pit set up. I asked a man there when the firewalking was. He was very excited to tell me, but the language barrier was too great. All I know for sure is that the firewalking sessions take place at 3 AM. Not sure which days, though. The cans on the ground are cans of ghee. I imagine it’s to rub on your feet, but wonder if that’d be before or after the firewalking.

A photo of the local architecture. It reminds me a little of New Orleans:

And last but not least, a photo from the market in Little India. Deepavali is just around the corner, and there’s a sense of excitement in the air. I wish I could include the sounds of the music and the smell of the incense, but just go ahead and use your imagination:

That’s it for now. I am really tired. Want to get up and head over to Mysore practice at Pure Yoga tomorrow morning. It’s always funny to be in a new place, where everywhere I go, I’m lost. I did see a Starbuck’s earlier. And for some reason, I want one of their soy chai lattes. Perhaps after practice…

P.S. To Anna: I’m happy to hear you aren’t heading out of LAX. Not sure why I thought that was where you were starting from. Hopefully Chicago will be better. And I’m home next Sunday evening.

There is NO littering. NO grafitti. My husband, the cop, would like it here. They announce as you are flying into the country that ALL drugs have a mandatory death sentence. Ow.

I really feel happy in Asia. I love bowing, and am delighted to be in a place where it is common.

Slept a solid 8 hours on the plane, ate really cool food, most of which I couldn’t identify. But it all tasted really good. I’m going to take a shower now and we’re all going to go take a walk in Chinatown and then dinner in Little India!!

Business class is such a treat. It was a very comfy trip. Once you are out of the US, flying is on time and quite efficient. I had a bit of angst at the international terminal of LAX, thinking about my daughter’s upcoming trip to England. Yes, I still think of her as a child, and the thought of her maneuvering through that chaos had me kind of horrified. Anna, if you are reading this, let’s make sure to chat about strategies for getting through LAX as easily as possible. Also, book a ticket from PHX to LAX instead of driving. Okay?

So here I am, about 28 hours after setting off from Phoenix. I think I’m a little delirious, but I feel really cheery. Apparently there is a Buddhist temple in Chinatown, and I’m eager to get a look at it. So time to get ready.

I’ll take pictures. Wish you were here, D and B. What a cool place!

Me, not so much. So far so good on this trip, but we’re only a few hours in. I have no idea what a 14 hour flight will feel like, and I’m trying not to to form any preconceptions.

And in more important news, the Red Sox are three games up on the Rockies. I actually felt a little nostalgic about Boston this afternoon.