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The first country I ever stepped foot on in Asia was Singapore.
Well technically, it was Japan, en route to Singapore, and
I have the garish Japanese Animie t-shirt to vouch for it.
But for all intents and purposes, it was Singapore.
Singapore, infamously known for the caning heard around the
world, is an orderly, modern county, threaded with ornate
laws enforced to keep it that way. So we're talking the opposite
of raucous Thailand, or shady Malaysia. So well kept and tidy,
it invoked memories of Epcot Center in Disneyland,
"Now you're entering Asia!" I listened for the monorail
voice to say.
I wasn't exactly disappointed with the cleanliness and modernity;
my friend Pam who I was visiting prepared me for that, but
I was hopping to get a glimpse of the more traditional culture,
and the lush, tropical scenery Asia's known for. I wanted
to see monkeys in the wild! Pam, a native Singaporean now
living in the States, is better known by her nickname, La.
"La" is the Singaporean equivalent to the Canadian
"Eh." In the same way, every sentence is punctuated
with "eh," so it is in Singapore with "la."
Ok la? Get it, la?
In addition to the "la" sprinkled throughout sentences,
Singaporeans also have this great singsong pattern of speech.
It's a rollercoaster of pitches - loud, but never monotonous.
After a several days of listening to me screech every time
I thought I saw a monkey in a tree, La finally got feed up.
We were picking up McDonald's, (in my defense La absolutely
insisted that I try the McDonald's there claming that it's
far fresher and incredibly tastier, and lo and behold she
was right), when she'd resolved to find monkeys for me.
Dusk is the prime time for monkey sightings, so La drove us
towards the nearby Sungei Buloh Nature Preserve in
North Singapore. I stared intensely, not blinking an eye,
as La creped the car through the thick jungle enveloping us.
I was munching my Asian McDonald's cheeseburger with chili
sauce, when suddenly I saw them: there were about 30 monkeys
frozen in the center of the road staring into the blinding
headlights of La's car! They didn't scatter; instead, after
momentarily looking disrupted, they proceeded to go about
their monkey business. I was amazed: there I was, in the middle
of this verdant rainforest draped in lush vines, and looking
at wild monkeys! The only wild animals I see at home are overfriendly
squirrels and dirty pigeons.
Feeling like a Japanese tourist in New York City, I began
rapid-firing my camera at the monkeys. I half-threw myself
out of the window in order to achieve the perfect shot. Still
not satisfied, I leapt from the car - ignoring warnings from
La not to get too close. The monkeys, complacent and co-operative,
posed for their close-ups. Satisfied and beaming with excitement
I headed back to the car, talking nonstop to La who was completely
unimpressed, but sweetly humoring me with periodic nods.
I climbed back into the car, and threw the out the McDonald's
bag in the empty roadside bin. Suddenly every one of my 30
well-tempered, tranquil monkey friends popped their head up.
I swore I saw their deep, beady eyes widen and reflect the
golden arches.
Like a choreographed fight seen out of Braveheart,
they stormed towards the car. I, on cue, let out a blood-curling
scream. Unable to open the door in my panic, I dove through
the car window. The evil monkeys jumped around the car, and
violently ripped apart the McDonald's bag into thousands of
tiny pieces looking ravenously for scraps. Fearing their ability
to sense my gluttony in not leaving them any food, and disposing
trash in their home, I pled with La to get us the hell out
of there. That's the thing about not being around wild animals,
you forget how wild they actually are, and that they should
never be teased with food - especially McDonald's. |
Travel Writers: McMonkeys: Searching for Monkeys in Singapore
by Nicole Trilivas
