train stopped at the platform it caught my attention the fact that it didn’t have a driver. Soon it left me in Terminal 2. In the middle there was a tropical garden with a small pond and beautiful flowers. Free massage chairs, hanging crystal tears rising and falling, orange fish ponds, places to receive Asian massages... They even advertised a pool in Terminal 1 from which, according to the photos, you could see the runway! Incredible. In the bathrooms there were touch pads where you could click on a smiley to rate the cleanliness of the bathroom. Of course, it was spotless. After all it was considered one of the best airports in the world. The first impression of a new person in the city was its airport and here they nailed it.
I finally got out and took a taxi. I showed him a paper with the address of my new home, and he headed there. I arrived on a Saturday and the company informed me that the house mates were expecting me at home to help me settle a bit and tell me everything I needed to know to adapt as fast as possible. There was no way to mistaken the place because it was called The Spanish Village... Pueblo español in the language of Cervantes. Curious place to put a group of Spanish. I don’t know if it was a coincidence or it was on purpose, but the name was perfect to make you feel like home. I looked it up on the internet and it was in the neighbourhood of Tanglin, but that, for now, it meant nothing to me.
My journey in Singapore was starting.
Singapore 2
In less than half an hour, the taxi stopped in front of the entrance of a building complex and the driver told me that this was the address on the paper. I looked and saw at the right of the entrance Spanish Village 56-88 Farrer Road and the same thing in what I assumed were Chinese characters. After exchanging a few words with the guard at the gate, he entered the complex and stopped. I paid with Singapore dollars I had brought from Spain and I watched him drive away.
I looked again at the paper where I had the address. I was in the right place. I started walking with all my luggage looking for the door. The complex was made up of a group of beige buildings with red tiled terraces. They were four storeys high including the ground floor forming the shape of an ellipse. In the centre there was a fairly large pool, a playground, parking, two tennis courts, a barbecue area ... It was clear that here the developments were perfect, not like the sad apartment in which I lived while looking for a better home to live with my ex. My ex, Cristina. She was now thousands of kilometres away from me and, although there were times when I felt her painfully close, even with frightening intensity, I had to forget her. I was so tired of so much sorrow, self-pity, and misery, I had to get back to enjoying life. I wanted to go back to being the crazy David from before I met her; unvarnished, uncompromising, not having to answer to anyone. To meet many women and enjoy with no strings attached.
While I was looking for the building, I was intercepted by a man with Asian features who asked me in a very strange English where I was going. I assumed it was someone from maintenance or the likes. I told him I was a new tenant and gave him the address. That seemed to reassure him. We shook hands and with a grin on his face he walked me to the door of my building helping me with a suitcase. He called my apartment, and someone answered, a voice that was familiar, he said that the new tenant had arrived. I stopped a moment to think about how smart he was, not questioning me, but rather accompanying me to the door to confirm my information with my roommates. When the voice confirmed that I was expected, he was satisfied, he said goodbye and I went into what would be my new home for at least the next six months. Or so I thought.
I rang the doorbell and pushed the door. I was surprised. I thought I recognized the voice of Josele, a co-worker, a friend with whom I worked side by side for three years. When we finished, he ended up in a project in the United States along with another co-worker from the bank. We hit it off from the beginning and we got along very well. I was sad when the project was over and we had to part ways, but we maintained regular contact and always met when he was in Spain.
At the door of the apartment, as I had suspected, Josele was waiting for me. He had not changed at all, he still had that hair that he grew like a toupee, a bad imitation of Elvis Presley. I left my suitcase and backpack on the floor and hugged him effusively.
“Josele, is it you?”
“Surprise! Come in and we will tell you. Look who's here”, he said opening the door wide.
“Damaso!”
I ran and hugged him lifting him into the air. Damaso was another fellow that the company had sent with Josele to the United States. A little quirky, but a familiar face in the end. The day could have not started better having these two characters as roommates.
“But what are you doing here? Were you not in America?”
“Yes, I was,” said Damaso. “The project ended and we both got sent here recently. Valentine told us you were coming, but we didn’t say anything because we wanted to surprise you.”
“And what a surprise, boys! It really can’t get any better. Together again and this time sharing an apartment. Singapore gets ready!”
“Yes!” Josele shouted excited. “We can play sports again together. Damaso and I go jogging twice a week and we are in a basketball league for expatriates. We've already entered you in the team.”
“Great!” I replied. “At least I will not get fat and I will meet new people. Well, tell me. What is life like here?”
“Tere and Diego are also here,” said Damaso.
“Them too! That's great, the whole gang together again. I didn’t think we would work together on a project again.”
“Yes, and we know something you don’t ...”
“I suppose, it is the fact that Diego is also on the basketball team.”
“Yes. But it’s not that.”
“What is it then?”
“They're together.”
“What! Tere and Diego? Since when?”
“Well, we do not know because they have just told us, but certainly since before coming here, so at least two months.”
“I had never suspected it; although, in fact, if you think about it, yes they are very compatible given the way they are. Good for them! So, what do we do now?”
Josele and Damaso first showed me around the apartment. It had three bedrooms and two bathrooms. I was going to share the bathroom with Josele. Apparently, Damaso insisted on having one for himself and Josele didn’t care. The living room and kitchen were spacious. The house had Wi-Fi and a closed terrace from where you could see the pool. They also told me that the complex had 24-hour security. The man who had intercepted me in the garden was of Chinese origin and was called Nan Shao and was the maintenance person during the day. At night there was a Malay named Datuk Musa. There was also a gym, sauna and squash courts on the ground floor, and a garden with several barbecues, which I had seen a moment ago, where you could have a picnic without leaving the building. Although there was a big TV in the living room, each room had a small one as well as air conditioning, a desk with a chair and a large closet. I didn’t know if the rest of the people in this country identical houses have, but the standard of living here looked amazing. We had two shopping centres within twenty minutes’ walk; with all kinds of restaurants, food and clothing shops, banks, and places to have fun. Wow, our location was perfect.
They also told me about transportation in the city. The subway was called MRT and it had four lines across Singapore from North to South and from East to West. There were also buses and the
