Never smile at a crocodile
June, 1997:
I made my first visit to Singapore, thanks to the Radio Corporation of Singapore’s Anthony W. L. Chia and Mrs. Toh-Chua Foo Yong, as well as Esther Leet (who handled the 1,001 details) and Chng Kai Jin, who graciously served as my host during the visit.
The trip began with an 11.5-hour flight from Los Angeles to Tokyo. As usual, I brought my computer, some books, and several pounds of trade magazines to read on the airplane. And as increasingly was becoming my habit, once on the plane I did absolutely no work at all.
Instead, I watched parts of JERRY McGUIRE (a movie I didn’t even like very much the first time I saw it), ate, and slept.
Here was my schedule:
- Sunday: Leave Los Angeles
- Monday: Arrive Singapore
- Tuesday: Explore Singapore
- Wednesday: Building A Winning Morning Show and Great Radio Promotions & Contests
- Thursday: How To Critique Radio Talent
- Friday: How To Create Maximum Impact Radio Advertising
(full-day seminar for radio stations, advertisers, and ad agencies from throughout the region)
I’ve since been to Singapore several more times. But during my first visit, my associations with “Singapore” mirrored that of most Americans at the time:
- No littering
- No crime
- Caning as punishment for graffiti
So I was constantly on the lookout for obvious signs of our cultural differences.
My first such impression was made as I waited for my suitcase to arrive at the airport Baggage Claim: The conveyer belt that carried the passengers’ luggage was absolutely silent as it moved. It was eerie, watching all those suitcases noiselessly snaking their way across the floor.
I have heard some of the most intriguing music at hotels and restaurants around the world. At the hotel restaurant that evening, I dined to the background strains of “Take Me Home, Country Roads,” followed by a Japanese musical arrangement of Neil Young’s “Heart of Gold.”
Singaporeans have two major hobbies: shopping and eating. Their fondness for eating probably is the result of the wonderful mixture of cuisines: Malay, Chinese, Japanese.
And shopping is seen not as a chore (that is, the way I perceive it) but instead as a fun activity. Singapore must have more shopping malls per square mile than any other country in the world.
As I set out on my own walking tour on Tuesday, I found myself a bit confused and asked for directions at a shop located beneath the hotel. (As I say, there are shops everywhere.) The woman answered my question and then, as I turned to leave, called out, “Is that your tissue?”
“I beg your pardon?” I replied, mystified.
She pointed to a discarded tissue lying on the floor near me.
“No,” I said. “No, that’s not mine.”
So….How clean were the sidewalks of Singapore? Somewhere between those of New York City and those of Disneyland. They weren’t spotless, and I just don’t know if I would have noticed their relative freedom from litter had I not expected it. I did notice the occasional discarded cigarette butt on the sidewalk.
Some of the merchants close to my hotel were very aggressive in their attempts to solicit business. An employee of one storefront tailor (Modella Tailors) vainly tried to pull me into his shop to try on a suit. (Clearly he needs to work on his ability to spot a likely customer.)
A few steps further down the street I managed to resist the culinary temptation of crocodile meat being kept warm on a hot plate. (No doubt in the near future we can expect to see this as a featured entree at Denny’s.)
Next Installment: A great Chinese meal in the most unlikely setting…plus another unsettling X-Files encounter.
