It's hard to be six.

John got into a spot of trouble after school today.

It's Thursday, and we normally meet at the covered play area to spend time after school with friends.  The boys run around, play soccer, chase each other, do the play equipment, and just generally have a great time expending all that pent up energy.

Davis came up and announced that he was going to the restroom.  John decided to tag along.  Somewhere along the way they ended up in the girls' wash room putting toilet paper in the toilet and flushing until it backed up.  They were caught red-handed by a teacher who marched them over to us.  I swear they had only been gone a minute but it must have been longer and we didn't realize it.

The teacher said the principal was in a meeting but would be coming out to talk with them and if we couldn't stay until then, he is going to pull them out of class tomorrow.  John was mortified.  Absolutely terrified.  His story is that he was strictly watching and not participating.  In that case, it's guilt by association, and he has to learn that lesson too.  I'd be angry with him, but he's hurting enough as it is.  Seriously.

We waited until after 4:00 and then took the boys to the office to see if the principal was coming out or what....and his meeting was scheduled to go until 4:30.  We couldn't stay.  John has to face the music tomorrow.

He's already asking if we can leave Singapore.  And he's been truly sorry and sobbing.

Tomorrow is going to be a tough day.

Mustafa

I even love the title: Mustafa!  

Today I had an outing with friends to Mustafa.  

Mustafa is Singapore's version of Target or Walmart.  It's 6 floors of stuff located in Little India.  We met at Jenni's house early and hit the road by 9:15 at Jenni's advice.  Mustafa can get really crowded and with the crowd come some, er, interesting scents.

First off, here's a photo of the crew who ventured out today:  Melanie, Jenni, Aracelli, Joann, and me.

This was taken post Mustafa at the local "hygenic" buffet across the street where, yes, we did partake of the food.  I use the word hygenic because that was listed on the Restaurant flyer.  The food was actually very good and the place was clean.  It has an "A" rating in Singapore.  So they've earned the right to use "hygenic" if they choose, as far as I'm concerned!

Here is Mustafa from the street.  Looks pretty normal actually:

The street in Little India.  The decorations are already up for Deepavali which is in November.  We came for our "look-see" during Deepavali last year!

And finally, an advertisement on the wall of Mustafa.  It's for some device that you attach to your toilet to give it a bidet effect.   You can feel "shower fresh."  I love that you can choose warm or cold water...and just in case you aren't sure this is for you,  you can go to the fourth level for a "trial sample."

 

 Hey, we just might need it after eating at the hygenic buffet.  You never know.

Lines

One month since I last posted!  Time slips by very quickly here.  We are keeping busy with school, football, tennis, and soccer.  And Bunco and Mahjong.  Yes, Mahjong.  So fun.

Today I had my adventure to the Chinese Embassy. 

We are leaving for a planned holiday in Beijing Oct 4th - 11th.  Our airfare is booked.  Our hotel is booked.  Our itinerary is roughly drafted. 

When you visit other countries for work or play, you must first obtain a visa.  I went online and downloaded the visa applications for China as well as the requirements.  We have to provide our passports, green cards, airline confirmations, and hotel booking confirmations.  Copies of everything.  S$190/per person. Plus a passport photo for each of us.

Ugh.

This required another visit to the photo shop to get yet another set of passport pictures.

Anyway, I drove down to Tanglin Mall and parked, grabbed my things, and walked the quarter mile to the Embassy.  The line was out the door and down to the sidewalk.  This is pretty much standard procedure at the bigger Embassies.  At least it has seemed that way to me.  The Chinese Embassy is nicely landscaped and sorta blends in with the scenery.  If the line hadn't been out the door, I may have walked right on by.  Nothing like the American Fortress, oops, I mean Embassy.  It looks like an enormous, imposing, granite prison.

I felt very conspicuous in line.  There were no signs showing me that I was in the right place.  I wasn't sure the line was going where I needed to go, and I didn't have a friend nearby to ask.  I really stood out as the lone Caucasian.  It was unnerving to be wondering if I was wasting precious time in a line I didn't belong.  It was hot and everyone smelled of dirty laundry.  Sweat was trickling down my back.  Bleh.

The line shuffled forward slowly and into the building.  Still no signs that I was in the correct place.  Plenty of signs for no cameras, phones, food, or lips. (I assume that meant talking. Or lipstick. Or librarians.  I'd show you a picture of it but no cameras allowed, remember?  Plus I was really worried about pissing off anyone at the Embassy.  What if they make me leave?  "No Visa for you!" )

I shuffled along that line for 50 minutes until it came to a small counter.  Still no signs.  I showed the lady my completed visa forms and my passport.  She inquired if I had my hotel and air confirmations with me, which I did.  She gave me a number and moved on to the next in line.

I was #388.  Luckily the counter was adjacent to a large open room that resembled the DMV back home.  I quickly found a seat and began to look over my Visa applications and forms again, nervous that I wasn't organized appropriately.  My number was called in 2 minutes.  Seriously.  One hour line.  2 minutes for service.  Things were looking better.

I went to counter 10 and handed another lady my stuff.  It was then I realized I left Joe's green card in the scanner at home.  Shit.  Maybe she wouldn't notice.  Maybe she wouldn't need it.

She asked for my confirmations after looking over the passports and matching them up to the applications.  She then asked if she could keep the confirmations.  

Sure.  Anything.  She smiled.  I think she could tell I was nervous.  

"Okay, Friday." 

"Friday? I can pick up my visas on Friday?"

She confirmed Friday, and I left past the long, long line of sweaty people.  Considerably lighter.  I feel so naked without my passport.  BUT WE'RE GOING TO CHINA!  Oh my goodness, I can't wait!