Driving 200 MPH at Night on Singapore’s Streets

by Josh Lew on

Some people are passionate about disliking Singapore. “It’s boring!!!” Sure, parts of the city-state resemble a particularly sterile shopping mall, but there is a lot going on there these days. One of the biggest to-dos has to do with the world’s greatest open-wheel racing series, Formula One. On September 28th, Ferrari, BMW, Mercedes, and the rest will race in the first ever F1 night race.

That’s right, not only is Singapore the only place where you can get a ticket for spitting out your gum on the sidewalk, it is the only place to host a Formula One race under the lights.

Are there any motor sports fans in Singapore? Judging from the fact that only 5% of the tickets remain unsold, I’d have to say yes. F1 is a status symbol. Hosting a race puts you alongside the likes of Monaco. The street course in Singapore is no less spectacular, heading past Marina Square, St. Andrews Cathedral and City Hall. Some people will be lucky enough to be able to watch the race from their hotel window. Singapore might be boring, depending on who you ask. But no one would argue that going 200 miles-per-hour at night on its streets isn’t exciting.

Troubled American girl and her mother forced to leave China before the Olympics

by Jamie Rhein on

The story I read today about an adolescent girl with psychiatric problems being pushed out of China before the Olympics reminded me of details people need to consider before moving to another country to live with their children.

The girl, who is from Ohio, was living in Beijing with her parents. Her mother was a teacher at one of the international schools. After moving to China, the girl began to get into trouble due to some psychological issues. Prior to the Olympics, the Chinese officials put pressure on the family to get the girl out of China.

According to the article in today’s Columbus Dispatch, the Chinese government wanted it to be smooth sailing when the guests arrived so people who were problematic, such as, political dissidents and protesters were removed from the city’s scenery. The girl happens to fit the profile of undesirables.

Now that the girl and her mother are back in Ohio, they are having a hard time getting services to help the girl because they are technically not residents of Ohio anymore. They have overseas residential status, sort of. The health insurance they had in China doesn’t cover them in the U.S.

In the meantime, the father is still working in China in order to make enough money to return back to the U.S. Depending on the contract he has, he may not have the cost of a flight back covered in his contract if he has to leave early. This is conjecture on my part, but plausible.

Remember Michael Fey, another teenage Ohioan who had issues while he was living in Singapore with his mother and step-dad? He was also sent back to the U.S., but not before being arrested, jailed and caned for punishment.

Although living the expat lifestyle overseas can be a wonderful experience, for people who have children with special needs, it can turn into a disaster. The support services are generally not there when it comes to special education and mental health issues. At least they are not typically as available as they are in the United States, and people can be left stranded to try to deal with problems on their own with little to no help.

Schools the students attend can be supportive up to a point, but they are in a position where they need to maintain a good relationship with the country in which they are located. If the boat springs a leak, so to speak, the person causing the leak my be dumped overboard. It’s not personal. It’s business.

If you’re contemplating moving overseas with your family, know what services are available in a country before you ever sign a contract and get on that airplane. This is particularly important if you have a special needs child. The stress of adjusting to this new life can cause issues not anticipated as this Ohio family found out.

Italian town pays women to have babies to keep afloat

by Jamie Rhein on

Three summers ago we drove through Regent, North Dakota to see enormous scrap metal sculptures that were built along the Enchanted Highway as a means to get tourists to drive off the main interstate to Regent. The town was dying because making money there had become a dwindling proposition.

Recently, my husband said that he’d like to drive to Regent again to see those sculptures, so perhaps they are bringing people to the town.

According to this New York Times article, in Laviano, Italy population decline is also a problem. It started back in 1980 when there was an earthquake that killed 300 residents and destroyed many buildings.

Noticing that there was a lack of babies being born, the mayor decided to pay women to have babies. If a town is not replenishing its population, the economy goes into the tank. Even people who immigrate here can get paid. How long this will last is to be determined.

Lest you think this is a crazy proposition. Singapore has had a similar campaign for Chinese Singaporeans. When people aren’t procreating, they need a little umph sometimes.

Laviano does have a tourist draw. It’s in the Province of Salerno that features gorges, historical buildings that date back to the 14th century and a diversity of flora and fauna. Since tourists can create jobs, like Regent, North Dakota is counting on, perhaps Laviano might find some options in that domain if the baby thing doesn’t hold.

I’ve never been to Laviano, but here is my plug for what I’ve gathered make this a worthy stop.

Here is a link to a holiday rental. It’s a start.

Crocodile makes a drinking buddy

by Jamie Rhein on

Wildlife one comes across in ones travels is one way to know you’ve arrived somewhere new. In Singapore, it was the geckos that climbed on our walls to take refuge behind the artwork.

In The Gambia, it was the pouch rats that jumped over the corrugate fence in my back yard or the enormous snake that I can still see in the circle of my flashlight as I was walking to my latrine one night–or that monkey that makes for a terrific tale. Later for that one.

If you’re driving across West Virginia, you might see a black bear dash across the road like I did last summer when I was heading to Washington, D.C.

If you had been in Noonamah Tavern in Noonamah, Australia last Sunday, you’d have been drinking a beer with a crocodile acquaintance. Noonamah is near Litchfield National Park not far from Darwin.

The crocodile might have been underage though since it was only two feet long. According to the AP article on Salon.com, a grown-up can be 16 feet, much harder to get into a bar.

Three guys who saw the crocodile outside the tavern thought it would be neat to bring it inside and have a few. The crocodile didn’t drink, though. They taped its mouth shut. Not a particularly hospitable way to treat a guest, but it was a crocodile with sharp teeth after all.

Happily, the story ends well. There is not a drinking and driving accident to report or anything like that. The salt water crocodile, a protected species, is now at a crocodile farm where it may have come from in the first place.

I wonder if it has come up with any jokes yet? “There were these three guys in a bar. . .”

United Airlines’ 1994 misstep multiplied

by Jamie Rhein on

The less than stellar reputation of United Airlines doesn’t surprise me. (see article) I decided back in 1994 the airlines wasn’t for me. As missteps go, it wasn’t major, but enough to lose two customers that I like to think have snowballed into the airline’s woes of today. Generally, I’m not spiteful, but If the service back then is any indication of what has transpired since, I’m sympathetic to anyone who has flown United.

My story started with the 12 p.m. flight from Los Angeles to Singapore via Tokyo. I was in a buoyant mood at LAX. I had on a new outfit and we had just finished a wonderful three days with friends in who live in Santa Monica, West Hollywood and Orange. We were heading back to Singapore for our second year as teachers after a summer of travel and regrouping. We were well-rested and fit.

The warm fuzzy feeling began to wane over the Pacific as soon as the pilot announced an engine had failed and we were heading to Alaska, but soon after changed this to San Francisco. I had just finished lunch and the movie had started. Alaska sounded intriguing. San Francisco–not so much. Besides, my mother would soon be getting on a plane in New York on a flight through Frankfurt, Germany to Singapore.

After we stood in line for six hours, getting re-booked on a flight through Hong Kong for the next day, it was clear to me that my mother would be arriving in Singapore before us. Originally, we were to arrive 12 hours before her. Making the best of a bad situation, I phoned a good friend of mine who lived in Livermore close to San Francisco. He was thrilled with the idea of meeting for breakfast.

The bad situation got worse when one of United’s personnel stood up on the ticket counter, waving a toothpaste/toothbrush kit, shouting to the 30 of us left waiting for our hotel vouchers. “There aren’t any hotels left,” he said. “If you want us to put you up, you have to fly back to L.A.”

Say, what? It was 9 p.m. My stomach was rumbling; the food from lunch long gone. “But you have to hurry,” he shouted over the din of protest, pointing us to the direction of the gate where a plane was waiting. The two Polish women who had somehow become separated from their tour group heading for China after the Tokyo transfer, recognized sympathy in our faces and decided we were the ones who knew something. Their English wasn’t the best, so my husband had to explain to them that we weren’t going to Tokyo at this moment, but to LA. The rag-tag group of us clutched our toothbrush kits as we found seats on the last United flight back to L.A.. So far, the kits were our only compensation.

The flight back to L.A. was accompanied by wine–lots of it. The flight attendants walked the aisles pouring from regular sized bottles. The stewardess pressed the remainder of a bottle into my hand before I got off the plane, patted me on the back, and said, “Good luck.”

By that time, my mother was halfway to Frankfurt. The sour woman at United customer service told me that there was no way they could let my mother know at the airport in Singapore where we were. “Great.” I pictured my mom in a country where she hadn’t been before, wondering where we were and unsure of how to find us. If she followed the directions to our apartment, I fretted that she might not find the key where we left it or know how to turn on the air conditioner. Singapore in August is BLAZING hot. There she would be in our living room dripping sweat with no food in the refrigerator wondering when we might show up. These were the days before cell phones.

Back at LAX, we looked for an airport shuttle to take us to the hotel, arriving there 15 minutes before room service ended. The restaurant was already closed. With the $5 phone card, the airline gave us, I started making calls to Singapore to find someone to meet my mom. The assistant principal was home and was more than happy to offer his help. Barely able to down soggy French fries, and a hamburger, I took off my new outfit so it might look halfway fresh in the morning. Our suitcases were who knows where.

The next day, there we were back at the LAX airport for the 12 p.m. flight. Could we get bumped to First Class after all we went through, we wondered? No! Any travel vouchers? No! Eventually, there we were once again flying over the Pacific eating the exact same food we ate the day before–same menu. The movie was also the same. Since I was wearing the same clothes, it felt like the same day, although this time we did make it all the way to Tokyo where we said goodbye to our Polish women friends who didn’t have a clue about when or how they would meet up with the rest of their travel group to China. No one at United was helping them out.

There was my mother and the assistant principal waiting for us at the other side of customs in Singapore.

What was United’s response to the letter I wrote as a complaint? We were each given a $200 voucher, good for any domestic full-fare price over the next year. These were totally not usable given that we were living in Singapore at the time.

The result of the fiasco has meant I haven’t flown United since. Where the airline made its first mistake was not helping me contact my mother–particularly since those of us who flew back to L.A. were not enjoying a hotel in San Francisco with the other passengers and dinner at a reasonable hour. It was the least they could have done. Since that didn’t happen, something else needed to have occurred to sooth our nerves. I can’t imagine what the decision makers were thinking when they sent us back to L.A. and didn’t bump us to First Class at least on the LA to Tokyo leg, even though there was room. These were two easy solutions that would have kept me coming back. Instead, my alliance switched to Northwest and I’ve never looked back.

The photo by Alan Light is a United Airlines flight in 1987. Things sure have changed.