Thursday Morning

It’s an earlier than normal start today, in Singapore. It’s just gone 7.30am, and I’m up, dressed, breakfasted, awake (in that order), and have made my way to Raffles Place to start the day. I actually had good sleep last night. This is what it’s like to be refreshed in the morning!

So I’m here, in the heart of the business district, watching commerce stir and come together for day ahead. I’m at Starbucks in Change Alley, grande latte in hand, bashing out a quick post before the morning of meetings and discussions and e-mail and-and-and begins.

I love this time of day in Singapore. The air is muggy, but it’s not blisteringly hot. In fact, just at the moment large rain drops are falling, intermittently. Local reach for their hand bags and laptop bags and bring out their collapsible umbrellas. One guy in a very trendy black suit, tie and incredibly shiny hair-and-shoes ruined the yuppy image by unfurling a bright green floral number. I think it must have been his girlfriends.

Starbucks is the kick start for the expat community working around raffles place. There’s a steady stream of them. I recognise the one that’s just walked in from yesterday. Same order – no drink, just a ready-to-go cereal. Yes, I’m living the expat life. I’ve started each morning here this week with a fix from the Global Coffee Magnate. With my sleeps patterns, I’ve needed it.

The trickle of office worker is quickly building to a flood. With each passing minute, more and more folks make their way into the alley, up the escalators and onward to their stations where no doubt they’ll each make a Significant Difference. Singaporeans, in work mode, hold themselves with such purpose. I’m always so impressed by that. Well dressed, bright eyed, efficient walking, head-up. It’s a far cry from the Worker Trudge at Wellington station, for example.

It’s just started raining heavily – the promise of a few heavy drops has been fulfilled. The breeze has cooled, instantly. The white noise competes with more fervour with Starbucks Jazz. Workers are now running across Raffles Place.

It’s Formula One week in Singapore. Practice starts tomorrow night. Yesterday the streets being used for the race were closed off, meaning that traffic was bedlam. The trip from the hotel to the airport is going to be slow tonight, I think. The excitement levels on the island are really beginning to build. Singapore, in usual fashion, has embraced the concept of hosting an F1 race in such a coordinated way. The shops all have discounts and promotions related to the event. The Straits Times has pages of coverage dedicated to all thing race related. Where the drivers have been, what they’ve been doing, where the parties are, when the events start. The flip side too, how retailers in the race village area have to shut up shop for the weekend, the traffic disruption.

It’s hard not to run into the event. Some of the support crews are staying at the hotel. While out for dinner at Chijmes, a sponsors event was being held, and the BMW drivers were in attendance. In Bugis Junction, one of the race cars for the Porsche GT race has been holding centre court. Orchard has been F1 heaven. Later today, apparently, the Ferrari team is doing a drive past. Vrooom Vrooom. The little boy in me is very excited. And in case you’re wondering, yes, I am a little sad that I’m not going to be around for the weekend. But I’m still really chuffed that I’ve got to experience this week. The race will be on TV, and I’ll be watching. So that’ll be cool, too.

Time to head upstairs and join those Making a Difference. Half a day today. Hopefully a slow afternoon. A little tempted to head back to the hotel via Orchard. Vroom.

People Watching

It's a Public Holiday in Singapore. I'm not sure what the significance of the day is, but all the same it's a holiday in the Lion City. I arrived at about six this morning, and have spent the day really just whiling time. It's been fun, lonely, a little frustrating, tiring and a bit of a breath.

I've shopped. I've walked. I've slept and swum. I've worked. I've ironed my shirts for the week. I've called home four times. I've blogged. I've watched TV. I started reading a new book. Yes, Love, it's a good one. I took an hour and half to eat breakfast. I took an hour to eat a greek salad for dinner. I had both meals in the Olive Tree, kept company at breakfast by a copy of CNN Traveller, and at dinner, Newsweek was my dining companion.

And all throughout the day, I've watched people. At dinner, a young mum and her little daughter went back and forth between their table and the buffet. About eight times. The daughter was about two, a little chinese dot with a Strawberry Shortcake backpack. She tottered along behind mum, flirting with the other diners, and charming the space.

An elderly lady sat down with some dessert from the buffet. Very elegantly presented, she sat down, downed her trifle (a single one, in a glass), said thank you to the waiting staff and moved on.

At the pool, a family lounged on the daybeds. Mum, dad and a four year old. Two elederly couples sat together, but never said a word to each other.

The old man at the crossing of Victoria Street, from BHG to Bugis Street Markets, holding out packets of tissues. He had on a large green bangle.

Bugis Junction always gives me the sense of cosmopolitan buzz. Having the hotel as part of the complex adds to this, but the mix of shops and eateries is so electic. The clientele, fuelled in part by the hotel, is equally electic.

So here we all, some of us belong, some of us transient, some of us familiar with the place and some of drinking it for the first time. Some of can't wait to move on, some of us want to linger for longer.

It's the mix that makes it so very cool.

So now it's late. It's 9.24pm Singapore time. My body clock is on 1.24am. I've been up a long time, and I'm tired.

Good night.

A Two Year Old

I have this blessing. It’s called Fatherhood, and everyday I’m reminded how much of a blessing it is. It’s a gift so large and so intense that often I miss its presence, or can’t quite grasp the wholeness of it. Like the Taj Mahal, you only the fully appreciate its outstanding beauty and intricacy standing right beside it, reaching out and touching it. Marvelling at the inlaid detail on the marble. But at the same time, you miss the true majesty of the structure if you don’t stand back and get a proper perspective of it, of the layout of the campus, of the architectural wonder that it is.

The point is, like fatherhood, it’s very hard to experience the intricacy and the majesty of the Taj in the same moment. The best we can do is to have the head knowledge that each of the components exists. That in itself is hard, because as with everything that is locked in head-knowledge, our heads – our minds – can fail us.

Some days the blessing of Fatherhood is easier to access than others. My sweet Mishal turned two Friday last, and again I was reminded of the intricacy + majesty equation that Fatherhood is the sum product of. Without the appreciation of each measure in full, the outworking of fatherhood is incomplete.

We spent time together, the five of us, celebrating Mishie’s milestone. We started the day with the unwrapping of gifts, and as we finished the day on the beach and the sharing of a meal, I had a Taj Mahal moment. One moment I was close to Mishie, helping her around the playground, marvelling at her grown-upped-ness, at the intricacy of her smooth cheeks, her bow shaped smile and her bellicose laugh. The next moment she was standing on a bench on Mission Bay beach with her sisters, and I got to see her place in the majesty of God’s blessing for us.

Intricacy. Majesty. Beautiful.