Spring Break
Essentially, It's The Same Wherever You Go
Bryan Murphy
Issue date: 5/2/08 Section: Commentary
I'd resolved to write a summary piece on my experiences in Singapore after my first month or so here. I'd resolved that I'd make the piece quite good and spend a long time on it, and I'd pour into this hypothetical piece all of my experiences in this tropical blast furnace so that others might benefit vicariously from my miserable suffering.
This is not that piece. I'd forgotten that this is the last week The Daily Campus publishes. In fact, I only realized that about four hours ago. I immediately resolved, of course, to write the summary piece that I told myself that I'd start working on over 90 days ago.
I cannot profess any life-changing and mind-altering experiences. Singapore is not exactly all that different from an American city. Bangkok is not exactly all that different, either. Neither is Kuala Lumpur, for that matter. Singaporeans aren't so entirely different from New Yorkers who aren't so different from Germans who aren't terribly far from Minnesotans thereupon from Swedes, from Californians, from Spaniards and the Japanese.
But that doesn't mean there haven't been plentiful opportunities to suffer from unfamiliar conditions. I used to think, before I came to Singapore, that I liked the heat - that I liked humidity. These preferences were not, as I had mistakenly believed, intrinsic. After the wind tunnel that is the Storrs' campus and the searingly dry air that predominates New England during the majority of the year, anyone could be lulled into thinking that they enjoyed humidity.
The Tropics are out to destroy me and everything I have ever loved. Especially all of my technology, my camera, laptop, watches, jewelry, clothing, food, and even water (bottles) have all fallen prey, in varying degrees, to the disgusting scourge that is air which, in terms of tangible composition, constantly hovers somewhere between water and pure gelatin.
One begins to feel slighted, somewhat tricked that they tromped so far and paid so much only to come to reside in a society bereft of intrinsic enlightenment , not so very different from their own asides that everything is submerged in a broth of boiling Jell-O.
This is not that piece. I'd forgotten that this is the last week The Daily Campus publishes. In fact, I only realized that about four hours ago. I immediately resolved, of course, to write the summary piece that I told myself that I'd start working on over 90 days ago.
I cannot profess any life-changing and mind-altering experiences. Singapore is not exactly all that different from an American city. Bangkok is not exactly all that different, either. Neither is Kuala Lumpur, for that matter. Singaporeans aren't so entirely different from New Yorkers who aren't so different from Germans who aren't terribly far from Minnesotans thereupon from Swedes, from Californians, from Spaniards and the Japanese.
But that doesn't mean there haven't been plentiful opportunities to suffer from unfamiliar conditions. I used to think, before I came to Singapore, that I liked the heat - that I liked humidity. These preferences were not, as I had mistakenly believed, intrinsic. After the wind tunnel that is the Storrs' campus and the searingly dry air that predominates New England during the majority of the year, anyone could be lulled into thinking that they enjoyed humidity.
The Tropics are out to destroy me and everything I have ever loved. Especially all of my technology, my camera, laptop, watches, jewelry, clothing, food, and even water (bottles) have all fallen prey, in varying degrees, to the disgusting scourge that is air which, in terms of tangible composition, constantly hovers somewhere between water and pure gelatin.
One begins to feel slighted, somewhat tricked that they tromped so far and paid so much only to come to reside in a society bereft of intrinsic enlightenment , not so very different from their own asides that everything is submerged in a broth of boiling Jell-O.
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