Neuron Shake

If you want to shake up your neurons and challenge neuroplasticity, sell your house, quit your job, close your business, give away all your belongings, pack a few suitcases, and move to a new country with your teen and partner. 

On August 16th, 2010, we moved from Newfoundland Labrador, Canada to Singapore - 10.5 hours in the future, a different culture, different driving rules, and different diet.  Surely adding a different language with limited people speaking yours will be like a steroid neuron shake.

I wonder if the experience on the synapses is the same at 40 with a teen in tow as at 25 just out of university with no kids?  Obviously, the experiences will be different - less money, less wisdom, no worries about your child's welfare and comfort.  But the shock to the brain might be similar.

So the three of us arrived in Singapore two days after departing.  The over 30 hour journey was fairly uneventful with us sleeping most of the flight between Toronto and Hong Kong.  My partner (who had already lived in Singapore for 3 years) fretted a little when they asked for our passes in Toronto and none of us had them.  But our documentation was enough.  When we arrived in Singapore, they easily stamped our passports, and we had officially landed.  We were fairly disconnected from our other worlds with limited Internet and a 10.5 hour time difference.  Mostly though, we were jet lagged and incredibly busy taking care of getting settled.

Within two days, my 16 year old daughter had a medical at the local clinic for her student pass, we ate at the local 'hawker stands', we had my daughter's school orientation, we viewed 10 apartments, and my partner had to visit work and get a few things sorted.  By day 5, my daughter started school and we'd been introduced to Singapore culture like an infant being born to the earthly world. 

All three of us spent the first six days in a small hotel room while we somewhat ferociously battled jetlag.  We woke at 2:30 a.m. the first day and my daughter and I were at the hotel lobby front desk asking for our Internet password at 3:00 a.m., bright eyed and bushy tailed! 

We focused on finding our new home immediately.  Property agents are used for renting as well as buying here.  Our property agent drove us around to 10 apartments in 2 days.  Some were awful... dark and dingy and smelly.  My daughter's only criteria was that the bathroom was decent.  My only criteria was that my daughter was comfortable.  We found a great condo and moved in on day six after our arrival.

Living in a fairly empty apartment for a week - we had 2 mattresses and accumulated most of our kitchen and bathroom necessities - we happily wandered from shopping mall to shopping area to shopping street to shopping centre in search of the right furniture (nice but cheap).  We spent a small fortune on taxis, but amongst all the neuron vibrations, we managed to travel via train (MRT) and bus as well.  We also managed to order most of our furniture... our couch arrived a few days ago!

Although English is the national language of Singapore, it does not mean everyone speaks it clearly and understands it fully.  We've been occasionally challenged with explaining directions, but ordering food has been fairly straight forward.  Extra conversation is often a challenge... and I've received the wrong order in food at times:)

Crossing the street is still not a natural acivity for me.  I continue to not have a clue which way to look for oncoming traffic.  I'm getting used to not tipping - most people wil not accept a tip here - and not clearing my own table in restaurants and hawker stands - it's someone's job to do so.

Parts of this city are very similar to other big cities - lots of people hustling and bustling, shopping, hopping into cabs or onto busses and trains.  But there is a gentler side to Singapore.  Older folks drink Kopi (strong coffee with condensed milk and lots of sugar) and talk and laugh in the hawker stands, grandmas and grandpas care for their grandchildren, service people smile and greet you, taxi drivers help with directions and culture differences (and sometimes provide entertainment!), strangers explain which bus to take...

Amidst all the neuron shaking, there is a sense of calm.  With all the differences, it's somewhat like home.  Human beings are human beings.  I remember my junior high school friend from Portugal writing a poem called "People are the Same" when we were in grade 9.  I don't think I understood it back then, but of course I did later in life.  Now I relate to it.

Namaste...