My first impression of Singapore is that it is a place of order. The streets are washed, heavy fines in the 1,000 of dollars are imposed for anything from littering to riding one's bicycle on the sidewalk, and chaos is more than a foreign term here - it simply does not exist. I didn't know enough of the poliitics of Singapore to realize why; my new roommate took me out to lunch upon my arrival and explained to me in candid tones that politics are not generally discussed by locals. "It's a communist government under the guise of a democracy." he explained. The next day, I discovered this to be relatively true when I found myself riding in a car with a new aquaintance. "I'm going to tell you something that I probably shouldn't say," she said in hushed tones, once we were safely in the vehicle, "some people say it is worse than communism here, but if you don't do anything wrong then you will be okay." I somehow sensed this was a warning. "Well it seems to make everything very efficient." I told her politely. "Yes, but you can never run away." This reply caused an omnious sense of dread to settle on me. I had already lived through something similar to this many years ago, I felt unsure of my desire and ability to do it again - no matter how wealthy, globalized, and orderly this country may seem. I feel that perhaps a healthy dose of the unruly chaos of Mexico will be necessary when my vacation time rolls around; this will help counteract this strange sense that I've fallen into a twilight world of mass mind control.
Perhaps it is incorrect to complain: I can see myself living a nice, orderly life here. My apartment lies a two minutes walk from the beach so now every day I can start it off with a morning jog along the coast while smelling the sweet, pungent scent of the greenery and watching the sun rise over the Singapore Strait. I will go to work on an efficient transportation system that is never late. I will never have to go without anything that I need as it is all available in shops that are right at my fingertips. And all of this terrifies me. I came for the adventure and seem to have ended up with the life of a pampered expat. All those years of repeating my mother's advice of: "Hope for the best, expect the worst." is so utterly useless here that I am left confused. I don't believe there is anything that could have prepared me for this. I've fallen into Aldous Huxley's novel "Brave New World" and I'm not quite sure what to do about it. Even I have to laugh at myself when I realize that my biggest complaint is that I'm too comfortable, but being too comfortable makes me uncomfortable in return. I will have to grow accustomed to this feeling - it may persist for the next year or so.
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