At Changi

The European dance hits from the USB stick couldn't keep me from dozzing off for less than a few minutes before I was awaken by a short bumpy ride on the road, I went panicked. 'Whoa, whoaaa..! Ain't that the airport's wired-fence?! Now our eyes were thrown to the right side of the two-line road, 'You are right,' the driver said.  I smiled at him, 'Dont worry, we still a bit early, sir.'


Not sleepy yet. Awesome.

I proceeded to the check-in line, the small Black heavy case slide  smoothly, the Green back swaying on my right ass while my other hand held the passport where the tips of my flight ticket was shown its tail. I looked outside, on my back, it was still dark.

I did not recognize any of  the stewardess, but that fair skinned steward seemed  always takes the early flights.  My sleepless nite started to take a significant effect, my  eyeballs were getting heavier and my body was withering. I ignored the Safety Instruction from the stewardess  a few inches in front of me, I drank too much water on the way to the airport and my ears felt like burning.

I couldn't sleep all the way to the minute where the steward asked us to use the safety belt and straighten up the seat. I had a hotmessy-tasteddog, a pre-flight online order.

Welcome to Singapore, I cheered myself while walked fast toward the immigration lines who looked at my face for a few seconds before land a hard firm stamp on my passport, 'Thank you,' I said.  I met so many robotic emotionless people during my three visits, maybe life's too depressing. They are quite fashionable, neat, polite but too much formality. I miss Bali.

Changi is nice airport, it warmly welcomes you with that nice carpeted floor which requires you to take quite  long walk to the claiming bags. By this time, my enthusiasm had not withered yet, I tried to feel the carpet with my shoes, walked passed the Starbucks shop where I had spent less than one hour waited for the boarding time the last time I was here a couple of months ago. Lots of White customers, occupied most of the chairs, trolleys invaded the rest of the remaining space. The free internet + desktop pc counters were full, I waited a short while for my turn.
Writing down the company's address on the back of my boarding pass paper then rushed to the main exit, got into the Taxi Q.

He must be ins his last twenties, the Chinese-looking driver put on a neat tee and nice jeans, matched it sunglasses and an iPhone being charged next to his seat. His bag sat cozily on the front passenger seat, a brown leather one. Not suitably represent a taxi driver image, tho.

Class 95 FM. Mix musics with Singaporean English which is a bit confusing like those Malaysians. He checked me out now and then from the rear view mirror, expected me to come up with anything to talk about, ask for, whatever. Then the woman on the radio said something about how nice it feels for everyone having a national holiday on Monday. I sat straight up and threw my hands that rested on the back of my temple, I bent ahead, closer to the radio, in disbelief, 'Oh no no no, it is a national holiday?' I asked the Chinese driver, he nodded, smiled at me.

Fuck.


He pulled over two meters from the main gate of the company's building. ANyhow, I decided walked to the elevator and went up to the 8th floor, stared at the closed door and took out one of my shoe mats and threw it out near the empty box, my fingers were sore.

I stopped a taxi to Orchard road and got overwhelmed with the crowd, for the first time, I did not really enjoy jumped into the vigorous crowd. I wanted to get some sleep, badly. My socket were about to turn red and my eyeballs felt drier. Had to go back to the airport to cancel my flight that night and to buy a new ticket for the next evening because that night, I had to stay somewhere affordable.

I literally had not sleep in the last 24 hours.


With a little starvation, I went up to the second floor of the cheap hotel at eight pm, took shower, and collapsed on the bed in my underwear, I brought no clean clothes nor anything else except my passport, wallet, and the low-battery iPod, plus two old phones. A live telecast on all Singaporean TV channels, boring. THe fireworks, the songs...I decided to turn it down, let all the lights on, Happy Birthday Singapore and fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up with the same noise from the TV, a local news program boasting the growth of the economic in Singapore, I looked at the clock on my phone, 8 o'clock. I rose up and gave my card to the reception guy and head out for breakfast. It rained a bit, the look on those faces were less convenient to see. SIngaporeans love their music earplugs, so many passers-by walked with heads down and sporting their ears with plugs.

When I came back to the hotel, the woman reception went pale, 'Oh, thought you have checked out,' she said, ran her fingers on her table looked for a card key.

'Why would I checked out and left my belongings in the room?' I replied and looked at the man whose face went dead and pretended to busy himself with whatever on his own desk, 'Moron,' I said under my breath.

The door was wide open, a woman's ass in white fabric welcomed me on the door way. She bent down peeling off the bed cover and turned her head, 'Oh!' she was shocked.

I couldnt even give her  a stupid smile, 'It's OK, finish your thing, I'm okay,' I responded and went to pee in the bathroom.  I busied myself drying the passports and all from my small wet bag using the hairdryer.

I was still a bit tired out. Sat down on the bed, I looked at the mobile phone.

'Okay, I will be there in 30 mins,' I said to the guy from the company. Relieved.

All the work-related things were done before one pm. My flight home was at 9:05 pm. I decided to take a small delightful bus experience. Walked and visited some shopping malls along the Orchard Road (found them monotonously boring) and had a Laksa for late lunch on the basement of  a mall.  I knew I would get stomach upset from the food I had.

I decided to get the bus to the airport sooner than I planned. It was around 3 pm. The bus had some White students from an international school, I stood close to three Tamil girls who spoke as if they were having a monologue on a drama class, Loud and Stupid, tried way to hard to sound like those from the Jersey Shore.

I coulndt sleep, not at the couch on the Entertainment Lounge at the airport nor in the plane.

11:35 pm. It always feels good to come back home.