Sunday, March 05, 2006

200 Diapers

One day we went to pick up 200 diapers that Zhanar's friend's baby had outgrown. Zhanar's friend lives next to Ikea so after the pick-up we loaded up the stroller with the diapers and headed to Ikea. We made the 10-mile trek through Ikea's labyrinthe, somewhere along the way I changed Dina's diaper, and we headed home. When we went to put Dina in the cab, we discovered that there was poop everywhere. I mean EVERYWHERE: clothing, stroller, arms, maybe even in her hair. A royal mess. The screaming began. Fortunately, I was on a bicycle so I closed Zhanar, poop and screams inside the cab and rode off to meet her at home.

I got home just after Zhanar, and as I rode up in the elevator I pondered how a diaper could possibly be so lousy. I went back through my mind, puzzling which type of diaper I put on her. Was it huggies? No. Pampers? Nope. Mamy Poko? Not that I can recall... hmm. What DID I put on her little bottom? Ding! The elevator opened, and I had an epiphany. No diaper could be that bad, and in fact that's what she had on. When I entered the house, the screaming was no longer coming from Dina.

Talk about a paradigm shift. I went from blaming the diaper to blaming myself. We had another paradigm shift experience a little while back. Some malls offer 'parenting' rooms, but most don't and the best place to change and feed the baby is in the handicapped toilet. However, these toilets are also extremely popular with the pants-suit wearing, afro-permed maroon hair Aunties. One time we were in one of these rooms feeding Dina, and there was a knock on the door. "Just a minute". What else can you say? However the knocker was persistent. Eventually I went outside to apologize to the Auntie and explain that she would have to use the regular bathroom today. This particular young lady actually had no arms and legs. I'm sure that she was also expecting to find a guilty Auntie on the other side of the door as well, because SHE became apologetic when she saw that Zhanar was feeding Dina. Just goes to show you that you should keep your mind open and not enter a situation thinking you know the outcome.

We're back!


Alright, it's been a while since I've made a post. I'll admit. I'm intimidated to post to this blog, since it's supposed to be the "story" blog. It's much easier to just post photos to the photo stream or Dina's blog. And besides we've been busy. Our two most recent adventures have been Thaipusam, a festival in which people stick spikes through their face and carry milk jugs on meat hooks hanging from their backs (photo on right), and leisurely trip to Krabi, Thailand (photo on left). Krabi photos can be found in the March 2006 Arvhives both Dina's blog and the photo stream.

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

Whoa! Where's my hands?

Haw Par Villa is an interesting place. One of the "Tiger Balm" brothers decided to do a public service by making a park that depicts the "10 courts of hell" in graphic detail, all in painted cement sculptures. That's right, cement. Not the best sculpting material, but they did their best. After a short and unsuccessful stint as a pay-for-entry theme park, this park, one of the 7 kitsch wonders of the world is now FREE to enter, and just $1 Sing to go thru the courts of hell! It's well worth it. And informational too. I learned that if I refuse to pay my rent, I will be pounded to a pulp by a giant stone mallet in the afterlife.

Monday, January 02, 2006

If I've learned one thing in my first month as a parent, it's that kids are really convenient scapegoats. If we're going to be late to a party, it's Dina's fault. Never mind that she was sleeping like a baby. It's our word against hers. So if I don't post to this blog but once a month or so, remember - it's not my fault. Dina's been making trouble. I guess this post could get me in trouble... but mind you, sometimes it really is the unpredictability of a baby that causes problems. Really. I swear!

I can't wait until she is a little older like the kids we met in the elevator the other day. Three Japanese kids in matching hawaiian shirts, with some surprising luggage. The eldest boy, about 8, was struggling under a set of golf clubs nearly twice his height. The younger boy (about 4) was pushing a wheelie suitcase also nearly twice his height. The girl (about 6), carrying nothing and offering directions. We asked where they were going. They said "we're going to Phuket". Kids sure grow up fast these days.

Biking beats the bus

I don't know how the attractive people of Singapore get to work - but it's not the bus. I don't mean to say that there is anything wrong with busses in Singapore. They're great, if you don't mind wandering all over creation in order to get to work. I can ride my bike in less than half the time, so that is now my preferred mode of transportation. There are a number of side benefits as well. I can stop for "take away tea" which comes in a bag that I can dangle from my handlebars. I also learned that Singapore bus horns sound just like the horn on my old 45cc Yamaha scooter - only a little more menacing then a bicyle squeaky-horn. Don't worry. The bus was squeaking at someone else.

Thursday, December 29, 2005

Christmas in Singapore

It's a challenge to get into the Christmas spirit here in Singapore. And it's not for lack of trying - we've been barraged with decorations and Christmas music since the end of Hari Raya (Nov 4th). Almost as early as in Canada, where they start after halloween - but at least they have the snow to back it up. Well, we have snow here too - at 7pm outside Tanglin mall, once a day. It lasts for at least a minute. We did also bought a tree and that helped a little. And it lasted until the day after new years.

Saturday, November 19, 2005

I wasn't born yesterday...

It was TWO days ago, fool! We came home from the hospital yesterday - less than two days after the birth. If you're ever having a baby here, don't give birth at midnight - you use up your first night hospital stay before the baby's even born! Anyhow, everything was going swimmingly so we went home. I was really hoping they'd give us that hello kitty blankie or the baby-pulling plunger to take home as a souvenir but all we got was the baby. What a rip.


I guess the whole thing wasn't that bad though - our friends Naoto and Tomone just had a baby in Barcelona, and Naoto described the birth as follows: "our midwife who was helping the doctor was up on the table squeezing her out from behind like a zit."


Zhanar and Dina are both doing well. I've made a blog just for baby pics and stories for those of you who are into the whole family thing. The link is on the right. I'll just post the highlights in this blog from now on.

Thursday, November 17, 2005

Name, Weight and Length

Her name is Dina Tolkin Cressman, 3.1 kg, 51 cm length. Dina (DEE-na) is the name of a famous composer of traditional Kazakh folk mucic. Tolkin (tol-KHUN) is a Kazakh word meaning Ocean Wave. The western pronounciation is "TOLL-kin". Yeah, I know, it sounds an awful lot like the author of those Frodo Baggins books. I can't deny that Zhanar and I are fans, but we'll never admit the connection.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

It's a Girl!

Alright, we already knew it was going to be a girl. I gave Zhanar a good scare by saying "Uh-oh, it's a boy!" as they were washing her up. I think I scared the doctor too. Anyhow, all went well, and Zhanar is sleeping now. I should be doing the same but now I'm addicted to blogging. Just gotta publish!


Since I'm scatterbrained, I don't recall the actual birth measurements so suffice it to say she's big enough. If you want to compete I'll bet that her size as a percentage of Zhanar's size should beat most people hands down. Although Zhanar did benefit from the inheritance of my small (but efficient) head, as well as my peaceful demeanor. She is also likely to inherit my fondness for plungers, since she entered the world with one stuck on the top of her head. Well, more news later, as well as the much awaited name unveiling. Must... sleep... now...

Countdown to Baby

We're in the hospital now, with delivery in about one hour. As we were told, "In Singapore, babies are born after lunch." Very civilized. Yesterday the doctor decided that today would be the day, and our schedule so far has been as follows. 8am: Get to clinic, go on monitor. 9am: Served tea and biscuits. Noon: Go out to a nice lunch, go home for a nap and some email. 6pm: Return to hospital, start the drugs. I was thinking everything was going to be a piece of cake... but then the nurse came in and quietly left these rubber boots in the room... YIKES!

And just to think, Zhanar was literally jumping for joy just 4 hours ago. Once the strong contractions started she was much more serious. At one point I got a little off count in our breathing exercise and I got a tongue lashing. BILL! YOU SAID TWO!!! Now that the epidural has taken hold we are friends again.

Sunday, November 13, 2005

We Deliver!

Most grocery stores here offer free delivery of non-perishables as long as you buy more than a certain amount of goods. One afternoon, Zhanar and I decided to try this at the supermarket down the hill from our house. After checkout, an old man shuffled over with a grocery cart, loaded it up and headed for the elevator. I decided to follow him and see if I could get a ride in his van. As we got to the street, I asked him where the van was parked. He said "No van" and proceeded to struggle over the curb into the street.

After helping him over several more curbs and a bit of excitement involving a bus and a stray cat, I decided to call it quits on the delivery. I said my thanks, picked my bags up off the street where they had fallen, and flagged a cab.

Black and Whites


Last night Zhanar and I put together a bunch of black and white photos for our walls. The one above,right one is a picture of a typical fire escape that you see on the backs of old buildings and some perannakan shophouses. In a number of cases, the cement is deteriorating and they are sometimes missing steps. Sure makes the dash-to-safety aspect more interesting.

Crowds

One thing that we needed to get used to here are the crowds. It's not uncommon to end up standing elbow to elbow, belly to butt in a shop or street corner. One of the elevators at work has a capacity of 80 people. Can you imagine 80 people in an elevator?

On the MRT or a crowded bus, you sometimes end up next to a "cuddler". I believe that these individuals are comforted by the whole shoulder-to-shoulder, mass-of-humanity thing. If you back off an inch to clear some room, they promptly move in and are up against your shoulder and hips once again. I have yet to see if one of these cuddlers will actually follow me across an entire seat, but I think it's possible.

Backpaddling on Slave Boating

Alright, I have to admit that I was a little overly critical of the Kalang River. It's really not that bad. I only know one person who has seen a dead cat, and most of the time there's not that much trash - just the occasional plastic bag.

The paddling itself can be fun, in a galley-slave sort of way. And there's the camraderie that comes from mutual suffering. But the most attractive part of slave boating is the people. If you're looking for a buff and hunky singaporean boyfriend, Dragon Boating is the place to go. The dragon boat teams probably account for half the pectoral weight of all Singapore.

Friday, November 11, 2005

Slave Boating

A few weeks ago my friend Melissa invited me to join her for a Dragon Boat practice. Dragon Boating is quite popular here, but I just couldn't understand the draw. There are some real enthusiasts, but to me it was just slave-work with a pretty name. Practice takes place on the Kalang River, which everyone says is better than it used to be. In other words, there used to be even MORE human waste and cat carcasses a couple years ago.

Ok, I'm exaggerating a little bit, but it's still no joy to get splashed in the mouth. And once in a while, when your paddle hits something firm and semi-buoyant just below the water, it really makes you wonder...

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Meet the Neighbors

Zhanar and I finally moved in to our apartment in the beginning of October. While we were moving we noticed a number of neighbors peeking into the new Ang Mo apartment. Most of the folks in this apartment building are Japanese Expats, with a few locals, and a couple of Europeans (that includes us - Americans are Europeans over here).

It didn't take long to meet our across the hall neighbor, Eico. Psycho Eico. She's the official 14th floor hallway monitor - keeping close tabs on the comings and goings of local residents. One of our first encouters with Eico was the Egg Incident. Eico knocked on our door at 9:30 pm with a carton of eggs in her hand. "Hi. I just realized that I bought too many eggs!" I thought, well how nice - free eggs. Just as I was about to say thanks, Eico blurted out "I sell you cheaper!" and shows me the store receipt. No thanks Eico.

Our next aquaintance was "Mr Poh from Down Below". Another one of the peeking heads when we were moving in, we didn't meet Mr. Poh until three days later when he knocked on the door just before 7pm. In the friendliest possible manner, he informed us that he could hear all sorts of things from our apartment, and that he goes to bed early. Later that night (7:15 pm) I carefully slid my dinner chair out from the table and tiptoed into the kitchen to run a trickle of water on my dish. What time does this guy go to bed anyway? Moments later, Zhanar scraped her chair back with gusto and hollered "How about THAT, Mister POO?" Posted by Picasa