Free Diary of an Expat in Singapore by Jennifer Gargiulo Page A

special tag.
    Eliot’s stubborn refusal to ride the school bus is doing wonders for my exercise regime. She only took the bus on her very first day of school and then refused to get back on the following day. In her defence, even though the school is only about one kilometre away, the bus ride lasts more than half an hour. And since she’s geographically closest to the school she gets picked up first (and earliest), and has to stay on the longest. Hello, nausea.
“If Alezander never does his homework, are you going to send him to the orphanage?”
    Boarding school… I said boarding school.
“Is God here right now?”
    5:45 am, Christmas Day. The kids are awake and running to see if Santa has come or not. From our bedroom, we hear amazement and joy: Santa came! Teddy bears, dolls, miniature skateboards, and Silly Bandz…
    “But where’s the real puppy?” asks Eliot.
    This year both children decided to put only one thing on their list: a puppy. They knew chances were slim but they figured if there was just
one
thing on the list, the pressure on Santa would be huge.
    I’ve noticed that most expats leaving Singapore have caved in. Their children are sad about leaving but invariably overjoyed at the promise of a canine addition to the family: “We’re going to be getting a puppy when we get to Connecticut/Finland/England/(fill in the blank)!” This definitely sweetens the blow. I will have to remember this when the time comes. “We’re leaving Singapore… all your friends, teachers, the pool, our house… but we’re getting a poodle.” Hmmm, I might have more luck with a Jack Russell. My kids have already put two and two together. Their nightly conversation goes something like this: “So, basically, when we move, we’re getting a puppy, right? So, when are we moving? We can call the dog Buddy… No Sparkle… Sniper is cooler.” Some of their most bitter fights have been about what name to give this imaginary pet.
    The night before Christmas, we go to the children’s mass. It is very sweet and inspired but, after the first hour slowly becomes the second, a bit too long for kids. That, and the fact that Eliot asks in a very loud voice halfway through, “When is God coming?” makes me feel slightly guilty. Either I’m not taking her to mass often enough or we need to go over the basics of Roman Catholicism. Soon.
    On our way home, the budding theologist ponders: “If God made everything, who made God?”
“Is there any place without ants?”
    The good news is Eliot, unlike her mother, has very good eyesight and can spot a tiny ant on the wall from across the hotel room.
    The bad news is… Eliot can spot a tiny ant on the wall from across the room. “That ant keeps following me,” she complains as we wait for a taxi on Newton Road.
    He’s not following you. Ants are actually very nice. If anything, they are scared of you because you’re so big and they’re so small. Maybe he’s climbing your leg because he thinks you’re a tree.
    “But why does he think I’m a tree?”
    It’s 7:20 am, there’s only so much mental energy I can devote to this topic.
    “Is there anywhere with no ants?”
    No, no, no. There are ants everywhere, Singapore, Italy, New York… Just get used to ants.
    “But not in a snowy place?”
    I guess, maybe Alaska. But I can’t say for sure because I have never been to Alaska.
    “Mommy… yes, you have. You’ve been everywhere. You know, before you were born. Before I was born I was just bones… and then God bought me. Right?”
    Where is that taxi?
“Why didn’t you
make
me without whining?”
    It was a public hospital?
“Which Winx should I be?”
    Oh no, Eliot has discovered ‘Winx Club’, an animated series consisting of five glamorous fairies with magical powers and super-short skirts. They’re so sexy they make Barbie look like a nun. I googled them and found out that this global phenomenon is actually Italian (that explains the fashionable look)… but still. A