When I told one of my friends my plans for my birthday, Christmas, and New Year’s she replied, “You like to cut things close, don’t you? Flying on Christmas to Bunaken and then flying to Singapore on New Year’s Eve?” She might be right, but I didn’t really want it to work out that way. I would have much preferred to arrive in Bunaken before Christmas and Singapore a day or two before New Year’s, but due to my dawdling on the beaches of Bali the cheapest flights I was able to find and still get to my destinations in time just happened to be at the eleventh hour. As long as I made it in time, I felt I was doing OK.
I landed in Singapore around 7:00PM on New Year’s Eve. Just time enough to grab my bags, hail a taxi to my hostel in Chinatown, stuff my bags away, and head out to the revelry in the streets. My first taste of Singapore was one of excitement, anticipation, and downright merriment. Why shouldn’t it be, I thought? I walked from Chinatown towards the Marina Bay Sands, the imposing casino and resort located in the heart of Singapore. Surrounding the water were DJ’s cranking out tunes to the joy of sweaty dancers outside a museum, thousands of people wandering up and down the streets, and thousands of others selecting choice spots along the marina, with the skyline as a background, to enjoy the fireworks.
After an hour or so of meandering around, I chose a nice spot with a view of both the Marina Bay Sands resort to my left and the city skyline to my right. To my direct left about 100 yards away was a stage where it seemed a Singapore version of American Idol was taking place, with the beats of Black Eyed Peas ringing through the air as dancers lip synced and performed to the music. To my direct right about 50 yards away another stage was set up, with another band performing who were decidedly less soothing on my ears. As the crowd kept packing in, I felt myself squeezed between a chain link fence separating the stage to my right and Asians sqeezing up against me on the right. However, I was fortunate enough to be about six inches to a foot taller than everybody else, giving me a fine vantage point all around.
I didn’t quite know what to expect as the New Year crept closer. I really only had images of my own celebrations of New Year’s in America and those at Times Square in New York, with memories of Dick Clark springing to my mind. New Year’s in Singapore turned out to be quite different. It was warm, unlike the dead of winter back home. There was no alcohol in sight, perhaps due to a public location. There was no ball dropping, no countdown clock, no anticipation of the impending celebrations that mark midnight and the start of a New Year. No crazy hats, no annoying noise-makers. In fact, nothing at all until ten seconds before midnight. Then I heard the band to my right start counting down. Ten, Nine, Eight…
Then, fireworks. Good, solid, New Year’s fireworks for ten to fifteen minutes. This I could relate to, could compare to my past memories of New Year’s. But once the fireworks ceased, something very unexpected happened. The crowd started to clear. No merry-making. No kisses that lasted seconds, minutes. No joyous noise-makers filling the air. If felt…odd. Instead people started clearing the area, heading off to I don’t know where. Those that stayed did something that has started to become common-place on my journeys. The people, almost all of which were Asian, stuck around to take what I term as “model” pictures with Marina Bay Sands or the Singapore skyline in the background. You know the types of pictures I’m referring to. Those where the subject poses in very model-esque positions, with a finger on the mouth or in the hair, the head cocked ever so slightly, or a myriad of other different, but similar model-type positions. It was intriguing, slightly humorous, and out of place with my vision of what New Year’s has always entailed. Not that it was bad. Just…completely different from past experiences.
I stuck around for another hour or so, people watching, walking through the streets with other revelers, and dancing a bit, before eventually making my way back to Chinatown and my hostel.
It was the first New Year I had celebrated outside of America, and will be one that I will never forget. Even with an experience that did not match up to what I thought, I was still brimming with joy at the thought of where I had been the last few months, and what 2012 will have in store for me.