Singapore Day 7: Bahasa, eggs, and mushrooms

Our complex: the top of the brick decor
is probably 80' high

W subscribed to a Premium version of the online Bahasa Indonesia course that I've been doing for free. The Basic courses didn't give me access to the videos and PDFs. I zip through 10 videos as the sheets wash on Thursday.

I know a few words - maybe 100. In these initial lessons, I'm staggered by how little I know. I understand a lot more than I can repeat or write. I've been carrying around two books of vocabulary and basic phrases. So far, I can count to ten, exchange names and a few greetings, and find the bathroom. Not much. I'm studying between everything else, browsing more than learning.

A secondary school in our neighborhood

Learning Bahasa is a major excursion back into the classroom. AGAIN. I keep reading headlines in the Malay newspapers on every newsstand. Many words are the same, though Indonesia has kept modernizing its language beyond Malay progress.

It was a working day. I read the last of the course material for next week, sorting it for student copies. I finally finished revisions to the syllabus and schedule by noon. It was nice to take a break for some noodles and fish sauce with W's class at 10-10:30. As my new notes were printing, I got an email with a schedule revision. The next few hours were spent redoing the syllabus and schedule. Oh well. The new timing is better for students, and leaves our evenings free.

Unrefrigerated: eggs on the grocery shelves

We get home to sparkling floors and a tidy flat. My purpose in leaving a note for the maid failed. We come back to the "already washed bedding and towels" note lying on the dresser, our sheets changed, and our fresh towels gone. I toss everything in the wash again though I hate to waste the water. Next week I'll strip the clean linens before we leave and put it back on our bed when we get home.

A plumber comes by to look at the leaking toilet. He wants S$200 to fix it. W calls ATC; there's no way they'll pay more for repair than replacement.

W and I walk across a few streets and under apartments, following the GPS to a new neighborhood complex, complete with Subway and vegetarian restaurants, medical clinic, and pet store. The food is fairly good: I like the marinated "monkey mushrooms," though they're weird and hairy. The ramen they're in is not very flavorful. W has baked "chicken rice." There's no chicken in it since it's a pure vegetarian restaurant (except for the fish and seafood) but he adds a lot of hot sauce and that gives it taste.

We buy a dozen eggs and snacks for next week's class. We have no problem finding our way home, bags swinging from our hands.

Kirsten gets bumped to a day later: she's coming in Sunday instead of after midnight tonight. W could use the sleep: he's been teaching 8:30-3:30 since Monday and wraps it up Saturday (tomorrow.)