Called “Dhobis, Saris & a Spot of Curry”, this was a walking tour of Little India. Even though we’d been there before, it looked as though this might be something different and add a new perspective to things.
Wow. www.singaporewalks.com. What a great tour.
There were 16 in our group, so we were a bit unruly at times – only one other American, a group of Scotts, a few from Australia and a couple from Switzerland who were visiting their daughter.
You get there (from our hotel) by taking the MRT (read – Subway). At $1.10, it took all of 8 minutes to get there and was wonderfully air conditioned.
Incidentally, Singapore’s subway is a little different – the cards used as tickets are heavier than those you normally see – more like a credit card than a ticket, BUT – if you don’t put it back in the machine to be recycled they keep a buck. Put it in, you get your dollar back. Result – none of those subway cards all over the ground like you see in US Cities.
Anyhow, we started at the Little India subway stop. I promised Savita, our guide, that I wouldn’t give away any of her trade secrets, and I know that most people reading this don’t want a line-by-line account of the tour, anyhow. It was pretty interesting, though.
Generally, we followed what might have been a typical housewife’s day in Little India (OK, a very busy day). We started with a vegetable and wet market, where we tried Jackfruit.
This is the largest fruit in the world, and smaller ones are the size of a carry-on suitcase. They have compartmentalized fruit in them, kind of like the segments of an orange, but each one has a seed in it. They taste pretty good, not overly sweet and they’re not so juicy that they’re sticky. They are prickly on the outside, and related to the Durian, but without the smell.
We also hit a flower stand. Flowers are everywhere here, and there are tons of little stands around to buy them at. Many of them are done up in garlands or decorations to go to various temples or as offerings to deities.
If a woman gets a garland of jasmine and weaves it in her hair, this is a signal to her husband that it might be his night to howl if he plays his cards right.
Or it could just mean that she needed flowers.
Larry, my grandmother used to tell me that a girl that wore flowers in her hair wasn't wearing any underwear. I guess that was her way of telling me - don't put flowers in your hair or the guys will think you are a slut. Sherry
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