A Sunday Night visit to Little India

At my suggestion, Dr. Dan took me to Little India for dinner. I was unprepared for but excited to see the phenomenon that greeted us. The streets were teeming with a mass of humanity—it was Sunday, a laborer’s day off—and there was a homogenous shoulder to shoulder mass of male Indians filling the sidewalks and flowing to fill one lane of the street on each side—cars fought to pass. There was a gentle, pleasant hum of voices—like bees might buzz in a hive. We moved through the crowd with comfortable interaction and pleasant eye contact. Men greeted each other with excitement, hugs, or customary hand holding. These were immigrant temporary workers separated from their families for time measured in years, not the weeks I’m separated from my family. Street stands sold phone cards enabling them to call home to their loved ones. I knew Singapore depended heavily upon outside workers but this became real and personal with the experience of being even superficially among them. For me there was a mixture of amazement and excitement—I have never been in such an environment.

We found a local restaurant and had lamb and mutton dishes that were pleasantly spicy along with a yogurt interwoven with cucumber and carrot, greens and delicious bread. Afterward, we walked thru the wet market where many of these men were buying fish, meat or spices for their upcoming week. Women were, if not rare, certainly less than half of a percent of the people seen. Shops were closed with few exceptions due to the Sunday work holiday—so we plan to return during the week.