Taking vintage to another level

There is nothing particularly unusual about old shophouses being renovated like these two just down the street from us on Kim Yam Road. You see it all over Singapore as the city strives to preserve its remaining architectural heritage that has been largely lost to rampant development. What's different here is the scaffolding. Yes, those are sticks. 

It unnerves me to think about standing two or three floors up on a structure that looks like it could be taken out by a large dog with a frisky tail. I'm sure it's stronger than it looks, but it seems to take the concept of vintage a bit far. It's not like better tools aren't available. All over the city, contractors are using modern equipment to build high-rise condos and office towers. 

This picture was taken just a little further up Kim Yam Road just outside our condo. You can find similar scenes of new bumping up against old all across the city as developers try to keep up with what seems like limitless demand in Singapore's sizzling economy. More to the point at hand, the builders of these condos appear to be using the best tools and materials money can buy. It makes me wonder if the luddites using the wooden scaffolding deserve kudos for authenticity or a visit from the Singapore Building & Construction Authority.

Post Script
Speaking of new crowding old, I was walking home today after a visit to the Chinese Visa Centre and took this photo. It's perhaps the most photographed view of the city. It's located at Boat Quay on the Singapore River.

Margaret gets her desk blessed... maybe

Woe be to those who thought lunch was more important.

As part of the Chinese New Year festivities, Margaret's company brought this character into the office to bless cubes and desks for all who were interested. As a rooster, Margaret was definitely interested. Her horoscope, as published in the Strait Times, specifically said roosters are in for a challenging year at work. She didn't want to miss out on this opportunity to improve her prospects. Luckily for us, she managed to get a couple of pictures with her BlackBerry so we could all get a peek inside this unique aspect of modern corporate culture. Here's a picture of her desk getting the the karma applied.

Probably not as creepy as it looks.

With this blessing, Margaret should be able to enjoy some good fortune at work this year. There's just one caveat. Tradition calls for giving $8 in a red envelope to the lion. Margaret explains: "The red envelopes are called ang pow and this is left on top of two oranges on the desk. The tradition is $8 because it's considered lucky. I guess eight in Chinese sounds similar to the word for wealth. Apparently, $6 is also okay because six sounds like smooth and can imply a smooth year ahead." 

And yet, she only had four dollars. Her colleagues said that was out of the question. Four is an unlucky number and would be bad form. Better to leave an empty envelope, they advised. So Margaret, based on this local knowledge, stiffed the lion. All he got were a couple of oranges and an empty red envelope. Is this bad? No one knows. But it seems a little dicey. Perhaps she should rely on skill at work in 2011 and wait for 2012 to count on luck.

Fascinating trivia: Blessings usually are performed by someone in a dragon costume, but in Singapore it's a lion. Why? Because the island's original name was Singapura, which means lion city. Possibly a merlion?

Appeasing the gods

Sincere Year of the Rabbit offering.

Last weekend was Chinese New Year and like most expats we got out of town. We landed at a beach resort on Pulau Penang, an island off the northwest coast of peninsular Malaysia. As Margaret's first non-work trip since arriving in August, the focus was on spa treatments and umbrella drinks, not so much sight-seeing. This picture was taken at one of the many, many, many temples in and around the city of Georgetown, once the dominant trading center in these parts until Singapore big-footed the region. 

This young woman was making an offering of oranges and flowers, two traditional New Year's gifts. The ritual was lost on me, but it was out of the ordinary. Everyone else just lit candles and donated cash. However, you don't need a temple to appease the gods. I was on my way to the grocery store when we got home and I came upon this shrine on our street -- a street that's been torn up for months by utility workers.

Makeshift Year of the Rabbit offering, but surely no less sincere.

My guess is whoever left this roadside attraction, complete with candles, oranges, smoking joss sticks and smoldering paper was praying for a safe and, more importantly, swift completion of this seemingly endless task.

Are you a wabbit?

This bunny was caught frolicking outside of Paragon Mall on Orchard Road.

The Year of the Rabbit is upon us. Is this your year? Find out using the handy gadget I've provided on this post. Most businesses will be closed for some or all of next week, but the celebration goes on for three full weeks -- parades, greeting cards and lanterns. More lanterns! Sure, there was India Day last week and the week before there was Australia Day, but that just meant a little less noise one day as most construction workers are Indian and that you couldn't get into Boomarang the weekend before. It's now safe to return for the peppered kangaroo loin with beet relish and sweet potato mash. So, what are you? Pig, goat, cow -- wabbit? Sorry, no kangaroo in the Chinese Zodiac.

No surprise, Elmer is a dragon.

Three random things to like about Tokyo

The subway system. Despite the daunting look of the route map, it's easy to navigate. You might get turned upside down in the stations, which can be enormous, but if you stay patient, it generally works out. Fitting that it resembles a circuit board.

Ride the rails all day for about 1,000 yen ($12.50 U.S.).

Mask wearing. Margaret and I deduced (that's right, deduced) that the masks are worn by people who have a cold or flu, not because they're paranoid of catching what you might be carrying. They may be under doctor's orders. I don't know. But I like it.

Subway station worker keeping her colleagues safe.

Bowing. It's addictive. But you need do it right. You can't bow on the fly. It's not like waving. Come to a stop and bow slowly, with feeling. When our friend John Burgess first returned from teaching English in Japan, bowing had become second nature to him. It has since worn off, but how great would it be if Americans greeted each other with such respect? Try it out at work or in you neighborhood and let me know if it catches on. Here's a good example of bowing on the job.

Luggage handler honoring a departing airport bus.

I can't wait to return to the Land of the Rising Sun, where the streets are clean and orderly because they like it that way, not because the rules are strictly enforced.



Sushi for breakfast... a Tsukiji tradition

After an early morning visit to Tokyo's Tsukiji Central Fish Market -- the world's largest fish market -- tradition calls for breaking your fast at one of the many sushi stalls next door. Not really my first, second or third choice for breakfast, but hey, it's tradition. First, however, you must survive a visit inside the wholesale market.

 

Lonely Planet calls Tsukiji "arguably Tokyo's top attraction." Yet no one who works here is happy about having tourists around. It's actually kind of dangerous. Picture the floor of the New York Stock Exchange before it went digital, only the traders here have BIG knives and blood-stained clothes.

I assume this knife has carved larger specimen. It's called oroshi hocho -- "wholesale knife."



















I was nearly clipped a couple of times by the scooters and electric carts storming up and down the narrow aisles. Luckily, the only wounds I suffered were scowls and growls heaped on me by the busy marketers who process more than 2,000 tons of fish a day.
 

Not Pike Place Market.



Concerned about sustainability? Distract yourself by taking in what may be the world's largest styrofoam box market outside.



More like Pike Place Market.

But tradition beckons. Onward to the retail market next door.

You may come for the fresh fish, but you can get just about anything else you might need for your next feast -- meat, sake, vegetables, sweets and dried versions of every sea critter imaginable. Just add water.

And all things seaweed.

I assume my sushi chef bought locally.

I ate it all. Not bad. I definitely recommend using the soy/wasabi sauce. But the tea (I think it was tea) was mighty thick and I couldn't drink it all.

If you love raw fish, you may need to make a pilgrammage here once in your life. The outdoor stalls that I passed up were not selling dainty little fish morsels wrapped in seaweed or carefully placed on clumps of rice. Nooooooooo. They were serving up platters of raw fin fish and shell fish with various dipping sauces. There were plenty gaijin mixed in with locals starting the day this way with glasses of beer.

I went to one of the outside stalls after eating my sushi appetizer, but I bought some food that I consider more suitable for a rise-and-shine meal -- soba noodles in a comforting broth with tempura prawns, squid and some sort of greens.

That's what I call a complete breakfast!

Edo, Tokyo and Sumoland

If you go to the Edo-Tokyo Museum, not only do you get to learn a lot about every day life in 17th century Edo and modern pre-war Tokyo, but you can also play daimyo for a day -- or a minute. The daimyos were direct reports of the shogun, basically territory managers. Their jobs required a lot of travel, which they mostly did on horseback. But before entering a city, especially Edo, they would climb into this rig and have a couple assistants lug them in by hand to show everyone who was boss.

  

Let's go. Or maybe Game On. Whatever.

If you're lucky, you'll visit the museum on a slow day and get a personalized guide. I followed the signs for an English guide thinking it would be a pair of headphones or a pamphlet. Nope. I got Yamashita all to myself. Good guy.

Yamashita.

Yamashita said he worked in Bellevue years ago for Data IO. He loved the summers, hated the winters. Go figure. Now semi-retired, he divides his time volunteering at the museum and working as a part-time translator.

After getting big-brained about Edo and Tokyo, you can clear your head at the nearby Ryogoku Kokugikan sumo stadium and museum.

Unfortunately, there were no tournaments scheduled while I was in town and none of the neighborhood sumo stables were allowing visitors. But the museum was open and so was the gift shop. Hours of fun! Or maybe 15 minutes. In the museum you can:

See pictures of champions, past and present.

See some old posters.

Watch classic match-ups.

But try to see this sign on your way into the museum, not on you way out. Oops. Time to visit the sumo goods shop anyway.

You'll see it.

Behold the treasure...

It's a shame my suitcase was full. They don't ship. Oh, well. It's time to bid sayonara to Ryogoku Kokugikan sumo stadium and museum.

Hey, there were no signs prohibiting stalking...