Singapore dragon
A story about a little girl in Singapore that I am working on…
Clinging tightly to the reins, toes digging into the creature’s scales, I brace myself as the beast speeds into the darkness. Hissing and roaring the monster throws me from side to side, twisting and turning. A whoosh of air…hot steamy breath…the dragon lights up the dark tunnel with its fire.
Through the inky blackness it races, this jointed, mechanical snake. Clacking and screeching, it is taking me further and further from my home. Stopping and starting, leaning and lurching, it slows, comes to a stop, and I jump off.
Braver than brave, I, Fearless Fauzia, emerge unscathed from the serpent’s lair. Blinking, blinded by the bright sunlight and sweltering heat of the equator, I step into the Lion City of Singa Pura.
When I was little I was afraid of the dragon, our subway. Not many Singaporeans have houses or cars. They are too expensive and the government taxes cars heavily to encourage subways and mass transportation. That is one reason our air is so clean.
Freed from class, dressed in my school uniform of navy blue and white, my mother and I are going to the city center for lunch. Kids in Singapore only go to school for half the day because there are so many of us – almost four million people living on one small island.
Only 150 years ago, Singapore was a tropical rainforest edged by mangrove swamp. There are still monkeys, civet cats and flying lemurs, but now there are more tall buildings than tall trees. Orchids, African tulips, plumeria and thousands of other beautiful plants grow everywhere. Colorful parrots, kingfishers, bulbuls and bee-eaters fill the trees.
Ringtail Lemur
My city has grown so much. I love to visit but I am glad I live in the suburbs. Our suburbs are not like neighborhoods in the United States. The government of Singapore builds large high-rise apartments for us to live in. They are like little towns, these groups of tall buildings with restaurants and shops, playgrounds and schools.
I look up at the tall building we are entering. It is thirty floors tall.An elevator whizzes us to the top floor. Papa has made reservation for us at a restaurant high above the city. He says he has a wonderful surprise for us and will join us later. Mama and I sit at a table for two by the window.
Merlion Park from atop Mandarin Singapore
Like an open-mouthed fish I gape and gawk out the window. I can see all the way across the South China Sea to Indonesia. The Singapore harbor is full of tankers and ships from around the world.
Our city is known as the gateway from India to the Far East and Singapore’s free port encourages trade all over the world.
I can even see our Merlion Fountain, half lion, half fish, guarding us. Of course we never had real lions here. But we did have leopards and tigers, and we still have salt water crocodiles.
Singapore Merlion
There are many rules that people must follow. You must flush the public toilets. You may not litter or jaywalk. You cannot smoke in taxis or other public places. You cannot bring in chewing gum. Break any of these laws and you will be fined or caned or put in jail. And if you do drugs or sell drugs you will be put to death.
Singapore is jokingly called a “Fine City.” But I think the reason Singapore is such a beautiful place is because of the rules. You will not find trash in our parks or streets. Statues and park benches are not covered with graffiti or chewing gum.
Laws are very strict against fighting, too. We punish by caning or beating. You see, people of many backgrounds and religions live here. Where else would you find Buddhists, Hindus, Moslems, Jews and Christians all living happily together in the same building? You will be safe in our city, walking all by yourself, day or night.
Mama tells me to stop daydreaming and decide what I am eating. The menu looks delicious: barbecued pigeon…curry…satay…so many choices. Pigeon is one of my favorite dishes.
Beautiful pigeons, some rainbow colored, others with long black neck feathers and neon green markings are roosting on the sill, looking in at us. Hmm.
I will have the chicken satay instead. Satay is meat grilled on a stick. It is served with a peanut sauce to dip it in. And I’ll have curry nasi, a spicy rice dish – yum!
The waitress asks me what I would like for dessert. I look for my favorite fruit, the durian. Durian looks like a huge pineapple and tastes like a wonderfully smooth custard, but it has a smell which is unpleasant and unwelcome in public places. Foreigners say the durian smells like a sewer. Sure enough, it isn’t on the menu. Just rambutan and mango. I order mango ice. Maybe on the way home we can stop and buy a durian.
There are workers building a new hotel next door. My mother is trying to get me to watch them, but I am too busy looking at other things. A crane is whining loudly, screeching worse than the subway. I cover my ears. Huge scaffolds, made from sturdy bamboo, climb up alongside the steel beams. Our city is such a blend of old culture and new.
The crane turns, almost touching the window. The operator laughs, smiles and waves: it is my father! No wonder he wanted us to come here for lunch. Now I look silly, jumping up and down like a kangaroo. No longer a gawking fish, I am now jumping up and down like a kangaroo, waving to my father. What a great surprise!
View from the top of the Westin Stamford
Junks in Singapore Harbor
