Now is the Singapore Hungry Ghost festival, and much like Chinese New Year, when I go out and walk around aimlessly alone in the city, I wander over to Chinatown and watch the incense burn and hawkers sell Singaporean food. Unfortunately, at this point to me, all hawker food tastes the same. I did eat a pastry today from a chinese bakery at Tanjong Pagar Plaza called a "wife cake." It didn't remind me of a wife, but then, I don't really have any frame of reference.
In order to make this entry manageable, I have once again decided to split it into bite-siize chunks, starting with the first half of my Australia trip.
Croc-infested beaches and farmers named Mick who compare possum sizes
I went to California in July and then flew to Sydney with Melanie, my sister, for her "graduation trip." She is now in her first week of her Freshman year in college and we went on a trip before her big move out to Ohio. We started in Sydney and then found our way to Palm Cove via Cairns in Queensland, and spent 5 days in the tropical north. Luckily we weren't there for deadly jellyfish season, but unfortunately we ended up wearing wet suits in the water because it was surprisingly cold. I was expecting Singapore-level tropical temperatures, but should have realized that there is pretty much no where more tropical on the face of the earth than Singapore.
One day we rented a car and I got to enjoy re-entering the world of driving...on the left, in a Ford Falcon (a rather nice car!). Driving in the North, especially after getting used to city traffic and public transport, was quite freeing - we never once hit a road with more than one lane on each side. We ended up driving as far north as the road is paved to Cape Tribulation, in Daintree National Park, where we had to take a river ferry on the car to get across the crocodile-infested waterway.
We encountered many beaches, most with mangroves, with large crocodile warnings - one with the warning posted right beyond a children's playground (to the people of Port Douglas - you may wish to post the warning in front of the swingset, and not past the point where children are expected to become dinner for the friendly band of beach crocs...). Melanie and I went zip-lining in the rainforest and then headed back to Palm Cove past cane fields and Aboriginal homelands.
On the way up to Cape Trib we stopped at the Mossman Gorge, home of sacred aboriginal art and a modern aboriginal reservation. Going there was beautiful in terms of scenery - the river had rocks that looked like enormous stones, and there were warnings posted everywhere about stinging trees - a terribly exotic concept until someone reminded me that "stinging nettles" are a common problem in the US.
The most interesting part of the experience was driving past the aboriginal houses and seeing the locals walking down the street. Having been to Australia a number of times, I'd never seen an aborigine other than in tourist spots in traditional clothing playing a digeridoo, so seeing a place that is still aboriginal land was quite a change. The architecture of the village was very similar to the Navajo reservation in Arizona, except in a totally different setting with a totally different group of people - in fact, a group of people who have so much in common, and yet are completely different, almost back to the beginning of human history. Yet, they both share a history of oppression and death brought on by explorers and conquerors from Europe, even until the last 100 years.
I am now off to watch a chick-flick at Vivocity with Shabnam, one of my roomies. But this week, the saga will continue....
