The Chinese Gardens

Friday, June 3, 2011

Standing in front of the Chinese pagoda.

Friday we toured the Chinese and Japanese gardens, climbing to the top of a 7-story pagoda to enjoy the view below: statues of dynasty heros like Confucius and Mulan were hedged with greenery while dragons sculpted from bushes gnashed their teeth several lawns over. Each tier of the pagoda provided a slightly different version of the landscape. As we climbed higher the statues got smaller, the leaves on the treetops came into focus, and the pond in the Japanese garden was just visible. 

Flying a dragon is as much fun as it looks!

We enjoyed ice cream (in tropical flavors ranging from mango to durian, a fruit which tastes like a combination of strong onion and weak mango and is better left untouched) sandwiched between two thin wafers. As I polished off my last bite (I had the mango, not the durian), two high school girls approached and asked if they could interview me for their project about, “the smog problem in Indonesia.” I told them I didn’t know that there was a smog problem in Indonesia, and they said it didn’t matter, assuring me their questions were broad. I stumbled through the interview well enough and plan to research the Indonesian smog problem in the near future (in case I tour anymore Chinese gardens and get questioned about it). The girls didn’t ask for my name, so I can just imagine some of the rather derogatory titles they may choose to use in its place: “Ignorant American Unaware of Smog Problem,” or “American’s Knowledge Up in Smoke.”

Next we toured the garden’s turtle museum which featured, among others, lots of pig-nosed turtles (yes, they had snouts), an 82-year old Fortune turtle (yes, I made a wish), and a specimen claimed to be the most beautiful turtle in the world (yes, I agree, but no, I’m not sure how they judged).

I also got to hold a turtle (but not this one ... he's a bit heavy!).

The Japanese gardens were my favorite: red bridges arched over ponds filled with miles of lily pads and golden koi fish. A couple sat by the pond’s edge, peeling mangos and taking large bites, the juice dripping from their chins as they exclaimed over the view. We walked over a long white bridge, perfectly reflected in the rippling water below. If I studied at the National University of Singapore full-time, I’d definitely come here to study, or at least feign studying as I marveled at the garden’s simple beauty.

Prawn Eyes, Tortoise Shells, and Other Savory Items

Originally, I’d planned to post a daily blog. But, alas, I was over-ambitious. Almost two weeks have passed since I’ve arrived in Singapore, and as it would be nearly impossible to record my daily events, I will mince my descriptions. 

So far I’ve made two trips to Chinatown: the first for a sit-down dinner of live prawn tempura over fried rice and the second for some much-needed shopping. As Singapore’s population is made up of almost 75% Chinese, you can imagine the size of Chinatown. It swallows New York City’s Chinatown three times over and that’s before you add the gigantic shopping complex at the entrance. I found beautiful floral fans large enough to display on my wall back home and chopsticks with every design from fish to flowers to Hello Kitty (all of which I found necessary to buy). 

One of our most intriguing meals so far was at a sit-down Chinese restaurant (outside Chinatown) called Dian Xiao Er on Thursday night (June 2). As we arrived at the restaurant early, we were able to walk around the mall (the restaurant, like everything else from the metro to the hair salon to the grocery store is connected to the mall) beforehand, and we discovered that the mall was hosting an international sandcastle competition. From tiny granules sand artists sculpted kissing parrots, underwater sea creatures, an assortment of jewels, and, my favorite: a merlion which is a mythological creature with the head of a lion and the body of a mermaid. 

Kerri Nicole, Marquis Peacock, Gautum Sanka, Ananda Day, and I posing in front of a sand sculpture before dinner.

We returned to the restaurant at our reserved time and noticed a colorful sign welcoming our group inside. We were ushered into a back room lit with red lanterns where we were served plate after plate of every meat imaginable. If it swim, crawled, or flew, we tried it: duck, chicken, prawns, pork ribs, and white fish. And that was just the meat. We also enjoyed marinated vegetables and an assorted mushroom platter. I had particular difficulty with the sugar-glazed prawns. I have yet to master the art of de-shelling a shrimp with the tips of my chopsticks. Remembering my Vietnamese friend’s assertion that in Asia you can eat the shells, I popped the whole thing in my mouth, much to the surprise of everyone else at my table. I, too, was surprised when I realized I’d eaten the prawn’s eyes!

Our professors waiting outside the restaurant.

Then dessert came. “What could top the banquet we’d just enjoyed?” we wondered. I imagined a slice of cheesecake, chocolate mouse, or a bowl of ice cream. I would’ve even settled for a fortune cookie. Instead, we got turtle jelly. That’s right, the jelly was made from ground tortoise shells. After the meal I’d just enjoyed I couldn’t very well feign vegetarianism! I was stuck. We were instructed to pour honey on top to cut the bitter taste. Self-preservational skills called for equal amounts of honey and jelly. Looking around the room, we quickly surmised that the only people who’d managed to finish their bowls had lived in Singapore all their lives. One of our UNC professors later described the dessert as tasting like “delicious concrete.” I would only add that concrete is probably sweeter. 

"Dessert"