Driving on the other side
We've lived in Singapore just shy of two months, and just recently we got a car. Having a car has made me feel like we really live here. Previous to that, I felt like we were tourists on a very extended tour. I love the easy accessibility of Singapore, and I'm grateful for the cheap, quick, and efficient public transportation system. I'm also grateful for the fact that we didn't have a car for several weeks because it made us learn the public transportation system in ways that we likely wouldn't have if we had gotten the car quickly.
Lack of having a car in the driveway meant that every task--from grocery shopping to getting Lillian home from school if she stayed late for peer council--required lots of extra time and extra planning. For example: one day, the chicken I'd set aside for dinner went bad. It was 5:45 and we didn't have food for dinner. We also didn't have any other means of transportation than our legs to walk us somewhere. So, we walked the twenty minutes or so it took to get to the hawker stand and bought our dinner there, and then we walked twenty minutes home. Not having the convenience and luxury of a car, and by extension, transportation at a moment's notice, has made us very grateful and also helped us get a little more resilient and a little more inventive.
Now we have the car. Somehow in all of this experience of moving 9,000 miles away from the US and starting a new life in Singaore, I've not been worried or afraid except when I think about driving. I read an article about a woman from the US who lived in London and she killed a guy driving on a motorcycle while she was driving her car on, what to her, was the other side of the road. That article really made me scared that I could possibly do the same.
But it's not just driving on the other side of the road that is why I'm afraid, I've realized. I'm also afraid because EVERYTHING is so brand new, and that feeling of newness seems most risky when I'm driving. I don't have any idea where I am, and because Singapore roads are almost all one way, the way you get to your destination is never the way you get home from your destination. You have to learn two routes--there and back (haha...it just occurred to me as I wrote that that there's a metaphor there, one I might not fully understand until I eventually return to the United States to live. A route there --the one I'm experiencing now--and a different route back. Well. That's a story for another time yet to be experienced). What I've learned is the apprehension and fear is because of the sheer newness of it all. I just don't know where I am and I don't know how to find my way, especially if it means doing it on the other side of the road.
Up until now Trent has driven in the front seat with me, gently and calming navigating while I drive, helping me with a running commentary of, "ok, get in the left lane so you're ready to turn. Now, turn here, yes, that's it, watch out for the bus, yes, you need to yield to him, ok, just drive straight now on this road for another mile." And, with that kind of help, I've successfully driven to several places.
This morning, Trent asked me to drop him off at the closest MRT (train) station so he could take the train into Downtown where his office is located. I gulped and felt the adrenaline rise in my system. Driving him there would be ok, but it also meant that--for the very first time--I'd have to find my own way back, by myself.
Ah, fear. Ah, vulnerability! Ahhhhhhh to all of it!
Of course, the end of this particular story is that I made it home, really, quite uneventfully. I listened carefully to the voice of Siri (or whomever it is on my maps app on my phone) who took the place of Trent, calmly telling me, "in a quarter of a mile, turn left at Clementi road 5", guiding me through every turn until I made it, a little shaky but ultimately quite all right, at my front gate.
I wanted to record this so I remember. I won't always feel this way; this extreme vulnerability and shaky fear that requires me to muster my courage and my strength just to drive Trent to the train station. Someday in the not-too-distant future, I'll drive him there without a second thought, and I'll do it without any guidance nor need for a route from my phone.
I long for that day, but I'm grateful for this day, this first new fresh crazy scary hard but filled with growth kind of day.
Lack of having a car in the driveway meant that every task--from grocery shopping to getting Lillian home from school if she stayed late for peer council--required lots of extra time and extra planning. For example: one day, the chicken I'd set aside for dinner went bad. It was 5:45 and we didn't have food for dinner. We also didn't have any other means of transportation than our legs to walk us somewhere. So, we walked the twenty minutes or so it took to get to the hawker stand and bought our dinner there, and then we walked twenty minutes home. Not having the convenience and luxury of a car, and by extension, transportation at a moment's notice, has made us very grateful and also helped us get a little more resilient and a little more inventive.
Now we have the car. Somehow in all of this experience of moving 9,000 miles away from the US and starting a new life in Singaore, I've not been worried or afraid except when I think about driving. I read an article about a woman from the US who lived in London and she killed a guy driving on a motorcycle while she was driving her car on, what to her, was the other side of the road. That article really made me scared that I could possibly do the same.
But it's not just driving on the other side of the road that is why I'm afraid, I've realized. I'm also afraid because EVERYTHING is so brand new, and that feeling of newness seems most risky when I'm driving. I don't have any idea where I am, and because Singapore roads are almost all one way, the way you get to your destination is never the way you get home from your destination. You have to learn two routes--there and back (haha...it just occurred to me as I wrote that that there's a metaphor there, one I might not fully understand until I eventually return to the United States to live. A route there --the one I'm experiencing now--and a different route back. Well. That's a story for another time yet to be experienced). What I've learned is the apprehension and fear is because of the sheer newness of it all. I just don't know where I am and I don't know how to find my way, especially if it means doing it on the other side of the road.
Up until now Trent has driven in the front seat with me, gently and calming navigating while I drive, helping me with a running commentary of, "ok, get in the left lane so you're ready to turn. Now, turn here, yes, that's it, watch out for the bus, yes, you need to yield to him, ok, just drive straight now on this road for another mile." And, with that kind of help, I've successfully driven to several places.
This morning, Trent asked me to drop him off at the closest MRT (train) station so he could take the train into Downtown where his office is located. I gulped and felt the adrenaline rise in my system. Driving him there would be ok, but it also meant that--for the very first time--I'd have to find my own way back, by myself.
Ah, fear. Ah, vulnerability! Ahhhhhhh to all of it!
Of course, the end of this particular story is that I made it home, really, quite uneventfully. I listened carefully to the voice of Siri (or whomever it is on my maps app on my phone) who took the place of Trent, calmly telling me, "in a quarter of a mile, turn left at Clementi road 5", guiding me through every turn until I made it, a little shaky but ultimately quite all right, at my front gate.
I wanted to record this so I remember. I won't always feel this way; this extreme vulnerability and shaky fear that requires me to muster my courage and my strength just to drive Trent to the train station. Someday in the not-too-distant future, I'll drive him there without a second thought, and I'll do it without any guidance nor need for a route from my phone.
I long for that day, but I'm grateful for this day, this first new fresh crazy scary hard but filled with growth kind of day.
Comments
I'm glad you're safe and sound.
What amazing adventures lie before you!