Culminating Day in Singapore

John woke early to make sure he was ready for his 8am departure on a full day trip to Malacca (spelled Melaka in Malay) in Malaysia. He checked to ensure he had his passport and Singapore Departure Card and went down to breakfast.

The bus arrived about 8:02 and John thought, "This is funny. They're late!" He has gotten so used to the level of service that something like this, that would not raise an eyebrow anywhere else, crossed his mind.

The trip down to the coordination centre where all the buses that pick people up from hotels converge and distribute their passengers. John was shown to a small coach where he was asked to fill out a Singapore Arrival Card and a Malaysian Arrival Card. He also had to show the driver his passport and his Singapore Departure Crad that he got on first arriving in Singapore.

Apparently very few people take this all day trip. It IS a lot of driving and the time reasonably short in Malacca so it is not particularly popular. Their driver was a man of few words. So, the passengers, all 10 of them, introduced themselves. There was a family from Fremantle, Australia (near Perth) with two boys, one in school (year 9) and one in university. There was a woman from Italy or Bulgaria travelling on a British passport. She is a tour guide at home in Rome. Go figure! There was a couple from West Virginia, close to Ohio and Pennsylvania, and knew about Ontario. There was a painfully shy young Chinese woman and a woman from the Phillipines. The group were all friendly and they talked all the way to the border (about 23 km since Singapore is so small). They all got out of the bus at Singapore Immigration.

Like New Zealand and Australia, you have to go through security and Immigration to leave the country. They take away your Departure Card (which says there is the death penalty for having 15 g of heroin) and off you go. You have to rejoin your bus that has moved through.

Everybody has to do it alone. The Aussie woman had some trouble. Their dog had bitten her passport and the officials were suspicious. But they relented. Next was an extraordinary trip in the bus between barricades and barbed wire to the Malaysian entry point. The two countries used to be one, but are not now the best of friends. Once more you have to get off the bus and go through Malaysian Customs and Immigration. John had no trouble but again they questioned the Aussie woman.

On getting back to the bus, they met their guide, a Malaysian man, who told them about Johore Bahru, the city on the Malaysian side of the border. He told them that the Sultan had just died and he was wearing the obligatory black armband for the month of official mourning. He also said they had a long drive ahead of them on a very good divided highway for a third world nation. It was some 240km away.

But first they were to see a pewter factory. The town was very third world - industrial, not very clean, with small, obviously unregulated shops and tiny factories. The guide told them about pewter and how it is made. They looked at people making molds of lids for containers meant to hold Chinese tea. They also saw the people polishing the containers. They wear gloves so that they can polish the pewter to a high sheen. John thought the gloves looked suspiciously like dangerous asbestos but he wasn't sure. They were then taken to the 'store' to 'see' the products - available for purchase, of course, at factory prices - made in the factory.

They then set off onto the highway. On both sides of the highway for mile upon mile upon mile they could see Oil Palm trees, the ones they use to make Palm Oil and Palm Kernel Oil used in all sorts of products like soaps, oils, waxes, even for food. Don't believe me? Look at the ingredient list of any packaged baked goods. The guide said that the government had converted their millions of rubber trees to oil palms because the rubber market had decreased so much due to artificial rubber.

They also got glimpses of small houses and occasional villages. They looked desperately poor to John but the guide said that the average income was $2,500 Malaysian ringgits a month and so only 4% of the popualtion was in dire poverty. The ringgit is today worth about 31 cents Canadian. So, John figures the average Malaysian earns about $800 Cdn a month.

The drive continued and the guide talked in a monotone for a very long time about the history of the area - the Malays, the Chinese, the Indians, the English, the Dutch, the Portuguese. He reeled off dates when this happened or that and why. What sultan did this or that. John normally loves this sort of stuff, but with the gentle rocking of the bus, the soothing monotone, and a short sleep the night before, he nodded off for a few minutes. Eventually, the guide said sit back and relax and enjoy the scenery.

John wondered why do they tell people to sit back; he was never sitting forward. And why relax; he was not on the edge of his seat due to the commentary. Anyway, John enjoyed the gentle swaying and looked outside from time to time. Eventually as they neared Malacca, the guide pointed out that there were other trees, too. John saw rubber trees that had been tapped for their latex. The other trees were the teak trees that the road company that owns the road (it is a toll highway) has planted to sell for timnber in a number of years.

Thye passed an area where there were lots of swifts, small fast flying insect-eating birds. The driver had to drive slowly to avoid hitting them. It was as if they didn't understand about traffic.

Then they arrived in Malacca and were taken to the Hotel Equatorial for lunch. It was sumptuous. It was one of the best buffets John has seen ever. They scrimped on nothing. John ate well, both first course and incredible desserts. He also splurged by buying a coke to go with it. It was $5 Singapore. John gave three $2 bills just to get some Malaysian change to take home.

After lunch, they boarded the bus and were taken around the town. Eventually the guide asked then to diembark to see a temple for Buddhists, Taoists, and Confucians and explained about the gods and how these three can all happily coexist. He told them that the street was called Harmony because it had Christian churches, Hindu temples, Buddhist temples, and Muslim mosques.

They were then given 50 minutes to walk the old streets. The guide said to guard your passport because there was no getting back into Singapore without it and they had had some people pickpocketed in the past in the area. John wandered around with the Aussie guy and their two sons. John didn't want to go shopping anyway so they sat down near the riverbank. Suddenly, the younger son, yelled out that there was a crock in the water. John grabbed his camera and got some good footage - not of a crocodile - but rather a large monitor lizard. It was the highlight of the day. They met the bus and the guide and were taken to another part of the toen close by. There was a choice. Sit in the bus or walk up the hill to see the place where Saint Francis Xavier is buried. Once again, most people did the activity though the Aussie woman and the Bulgarian/Italian stayed on the bus. It was quite steep but very cool. John had never seen a Saint's burial place before.

They met up with the rest of the group and headed for the bus. It was time for the two hour ride back. The group had a good discussion about all sorts of things. John was very impressed by the two sons. The one in university has his head and heart in the right place. No rightwinger there. He is taking film studies. The younger son oozed talent. He is in year 9 at school but didn't look more than 13. He could easily keep up with the adult conversation and had amazing social skills. It turns out he can cook better than his parents from watching cooking shows on TV. The boys both do their own laundry and cleaning. And they are really happy kids. What an awesome family!

Soon, it was time to go through the customs and immigration process in reverse. Just as long and tedious. But then they were through and headed back to town. For the first time ever John was the first one delivered to his hotel. He said his farewells to all the others and wished them well, his trip to Singapore over.

John has asked me to remind you that he will not have Internet access for a few days but to hang in there. More posts and videos will come when he can get connected again.

TRB