Travel Log Singapore/Indonesia
August 1992
The first step to Silk Road Gathering began as I boarded the flight to Singapore. In the days before the internet, yes, hard to believe there was a time when the world wasn't at our fingertips, researching an international trip was part hearsay, part dog-eared Lonely Planet guide books and a good deal of luck.
I had a few friends who had traveled to Bali and Singapore in the 80's and their stories of travel intrigued me. As we sat at a Thai or Indian food restaurants they shared the tales of 'full moon' parties on the beach or beautiful deserted beaches with tasty, spicy food for a few dollars each. Later when I returned to their homes they would show me the hand woven silk fabrics, baskets, and buffalo horns trinkets they brought back.
I chose Singapore because I had heard it was a launching place for South East Asia and safe to travel alone as a woman. Looking back it never occurred to me not to go alone or for that matter to take someone along.
This was also a time when 'air couriers' were flying often. A traveler paid a fraction of the international fare, in lieu of their luggage space. Companies used the passengers luggage space to transport their time-sensitive paper documents at a fraction of the airfreight charges they would incur shipping straight freight. At the arrival destination the courier's only responsibility was to hand the list of documents in the cargo space to a uniformed company employee on the other end.
My mother, on the other hand, was certain that the air courier business was actually a clandestine ring that supplied young, single women to the international black market and was wholehearted convinced I would never return alive.
I had just finished my degree as an RN and had been working nights for a few months. This is important for several reasons; I was totally disoriented at any hour, could sleep at any time and this was to my advantage getting off the plane half way around the world. I never had jet lag any worse than the fatigue I always felt working nights.
Okay, so back to Singapore. Even back then, I remember being impressed with the cleanliness and orderliness of the streets of Singapore. After living in New York City for a year in 1979 (pre Mayor Juliani clean up) the subways in Singapore were amazing; clean and orderly, riders lined up politely to let departing passengers off before efficiently exchanging places.
Walking alone in the neighborhoods a dawn one sees the real face of any city. The street sweepers staccato gently awakens the city as households come alive from within. Deliveries are made, trash taken out, spiffy kids head out in uniformed school wear with book bags strapped with a single leather band and slung over a shoulder with care. A mother peers out hopeful and watchful at the same time.
I wonder now how much of 'old' Singapore exists today. The two story buildings with there characteristic Dutch and French influenced architecture, slums as they were call back then, were fascinating to walk through. I had a sense as ultra modern Singapore breathed down on these hundred year old neighborhoods they stood no match for the bulldozer. A real sadness that I continue to feel today came over me, as I looked at all the humanity that made its home in these quaint neighborhoods. Entire lives were spent living and dying on these very streets. Tremendous joys, unspeakable losses, generations of giving, take place on the street of just about any city or village in Asia. And so it was then as it is today.
After a few days in downtown Singapore I hopped on a ferryboat to a small island in Indonesia, Singapore's neighbor. Before the Internet booking a ticket in local currency was almost always a favorable transaction. It was hard for companies to be consistent in pricing so one shop would have an incredible deal, as was the deal I got for a three day package on a small island. This was my first real experience with the magic of Asia.
Nestled at the end of the island the entire point belonged to the resort. As I arrived a polite staff took me to my bungalow. It was a real bungalow, thatched roof, wood floors, front porch, no television or phone. I am laughing as I tell you this because you must remember I was an air courier, with no checked luggage, just my backpack, yup, and they carefully unpacked my backpack, while another attendant brought me a cool tropical drink. Fresh orchids grew right out my door and several blooming spikes danced throughout my bungalow, swayed gentle by the ceiling fan. The next few days I spent snorkeling, resting, jungle trekking, and being pampered beyond belief. The staff was quite coy but very curious about why a Western woman would travel alone. They would peer and giggle as I walked by, the women being very shy. I would smile and wave and they would giggle all over again.
Retuning to Singapore rested and relaxed I knew I would return again someday. Looking back I had no idea how profound that feeling was.
The serenity and privacy are things I have come to love about Asia. I have learned to take them in stride with the chaos of the inner city, the difficulty arranging transportation and occasionally the language barrier. But always, I have found graciousness and warmth is easily had with a simple smile.
Tracey Fremd
