A Few Days in Singapore – Third Post in a Series

two people wearing masks
Heidi and I in the Kuala Lumpur airport

Waiting at the Kuala Lumpur airport for our hour flight to Penang, still on holiday, Heidi and I were wearing precious N-95 masks, the ones purchased them from a small pharmacy down a side road in Kuching. Masks weren’t yet required to fly, and I felt awkward, glancing around like a middle school student wondering what the cool kids were wearing. By that time more than half the passengers had masks. What a difference several days at the end of January made in Asia.

We were still wearing those masks a week later when we caught our flight to Singapore for “a few days” to ride out the trouble.

We had visited the apartment in Singapore before, on a previous holiday. It was sufficient, with three bedrooms and two bathrooms. Heather and Jamie occupied the main suite, Jenelyn (their helper) the second bedroom, and Heidi and I settled into the third, which had been Heather’s home office until a few days prior. Our room held a double bed, just enough room to pass around it on the sides, and slightly more room at the end. A built-in armoire ran along Heidi’s side of the bed, with more than enough room to hold the contents from our two carry-on suitcases, the empty suitcases themselves, and six other people’s things if necessary. Light flowed into the room from tall windows and bounced off the white walls, making the room feel larger.

Early on, Heather and Jamie went to work each day. We ate dinner together every evening, even managing on rare occasion to get Jenelyn to join us at the table, to believe she could pierce the helper-employer barrier and just hang with us as part of the clan. After dinner the four of us would play cards, particularly Pitch, a game of convoluted rules and minimal skills that Jamie learned as a girl in Kansas, always Jamie and I against Heather and Heidi. We kept score each night, but there was a fair bit of disagreement over who was ahead in the running total.

A few days slid into what was beginning to look like a few weeks. Early in our refuge we lived quite normal lives, hanging out with family, swimming in the apartment complex’s generous pool, and splitting our work time between two malls, each one-stop away along the metro line in opposite directions. Like so many others, our school had gone to online instruction. We worked out of the apartment for the first several days, but quickly decided on the malls instead. It gave us a small sense of control over our lives, choosing where to work each day, and it gave Jenelyn some space not having us underfoot all day.

At either mall we would settle into a coffee shop with a beverage, log onto their wifi, and begin working. At lunch time we’d gather our things and choose a place to eat. We’d balance American fast food chains with local fare from the food courts. Here’s a shout-out to Carl’s Jr.: they had a sign posted inviting people to work and study there for an extended time, cribbing the wifi, and just asking that we be aware of other customer’s needs for space during busy times. It became a backup hangout for us.

After lunch we’d pick a different coffee shop, get new beverages, and inhabit their wifi. Heidi had plenty to do, more than I did, and worked steadily. I’d work a bit, wander, work some more, annoy Heidi, and gather any supplies we needed from nearby stores. Part of each day was consumed dissecting the latest twists and turns of the pandemic, our son’s upcoming wedding, our jobs, borders, and how all of those would affect our daily-evolving plans. It was a rhythm and routine that worked for us and kept us mostly sane.

Once settled with a rhythm established, our life in Singapore felt quite comfortable and safe.