Here is a brief description of what I know about Singapore:

Every time I hear the name Singapore, I usually think of words like “tropical,” or “rain forest environment.” But I realized a little more than two years ago that there’s definitely more to this Malaysian state then tropics and rain showers. Singapore is one of the fourteen states in Malaysia supporting a population of more than 5,784,538 people on a 270 square miles of land area. Being the smallest country in southeast Asia it is still widely know for it’s tropical climate, and large multicultural population as well. Since it lies 137 kilometers north of the equator, it is incredibly hot. It’s brutal weather can get a while to adapt to. But with it’s rain forest like climate it also consists of very sudden rain showers. What I really like about Singapore is that it has a deep history for it’s name. It was first know as Temasek meaning “sea town” in the Javanese culture.  Later in 1299 an Indonesian king mistakenly had though an unidentified creature as a lion while visiting the island. Naming the lion Singapura. Which is Sanskrit for Lion City( unfortunately there are no actual lions in the wild in Singapore.)

• Part 4

My legs felt like airplane mush as I walked into the entrance of Terminal Three. I was relieved that I wasn’t walking around in walkways that were only thirty-six inches wide and on an airborne aviation vehicle. I mean, I’m not scared of heights or anything it’s just, walking on a piece of machinery that is thirty six thousand feet in the air is quite overwhelming if you think about it for a while. We then got ourselves freshened up and attempted to jump start our aching bodies. We were currently in Terminal Three but we then went to Terminal Two bye monorail. As we rode inside we noticed that the big windows inside made it very easy to the see the gardens and architecture outside. We then met up with Ganesan Mama( Mama means uncle). He is one of my dad’s childhood best friend. He brought along Sumathi Athai( athai means aunt), and there son Deepak.  My brother looked a little better then the way he did when we got of the airplane. His eyes were still tired and weary, but he had a little spring to each step he took. The same with my father, the redness in his eyes were still there from the flight, but he was a lot more active than he was before. On the other hand we were all a little better than we were before we landed.

While we passed by all of the shops and stores, my brother’s eyes must have been caught by one of the toy stores. He started kicking and screaming, asking for one of the toys they were displaying, he one the argument. Apparently he wanted this bow and arrow thing with Captain America on it. I was hoping that he wouldn’t start shooting little foam darts at me.

Now here is the part that probably annoyed me the most out of the whole time we were in Singapore. Baggage claiming. I now it doesn’t really sound that bad but really it is probably the most irritating part of a long distance trip. Well for me anyway. It all started when we all had to go to that big baggage claiming area to pick up or luggage. But we couldn’t find any of ours. Not even a single piece of luggage. I MEAN WE LITERALLY BROUGHT LIKE THREE DUFFEL BAGS AND THATS IT. We looked for our bags for like fifteen minutes. Then my dad took the situation into his own hands and went to the office that was in charge of any mishaps that have happened with passenger’s luggage. We sat on these couches that were nearby and waited, we were all talking and chatting, my brother was jumping from couch to couch. He kept asking me the same question over and over again. “Where’s daddy?” I didn’t give him a reply because he was right there beside me when we saw my dad walk away to the office. So I just shot my brother a dirty look. I wasn’t exactly helping my own little situation by doing that little act of annoyance. Finally my dad came lugging our bags behind him.

The next thing that happened was probably my favorite part out of the whole time we were in Singapore. We went outside to meet Bala Thatha( Thatha means grandfather by the way)who was going to be taking us to the hotel we rented. Now here comes the part that I loved the most. When we all stepped outside it was pouring rain. Usually one of my fondest memories in Singapore consists of the sudden rain. One time I was seven years old and we were in Singapore. We were just strolling along a market. The sky was completely clear, not a single cloud in the sky when we walked inside. Then when we walked outside it was pouring rain. The sky was completely gray, storm clouds were everywhere. The warm rain ran down my cheeks and made my hair curl with each raindrop. We were only in the store for a little more than ten to twenty minutes. It shocked us all to find that in such a short amount of time there was this much rain. It was the same situation when we were outside the airport with Bala Thatha. Once again my hair curled around framing my face. Raindrops trickled down my hair and skin. Splattering on my clothes and shoes. It tickled my toes as it reached my socks and bare feet underneath the strong material of the shoe. My grandfather greeted us all. He shook my hand, his hand was very burly and strong, his palm was warm and smooth. This was the first time I ever got to meet him in person.

He was very nice and was fun to be around. I like him very much.  My dad then asked him “When did you come here?” “I came three hours before you guys came.” I stared in shock. He was waiting for three hours and he didn’t look annoyed our winded at all. He must have seen the guilty looks on our faces because he then said “Don’t worry, I was just reading my book the entire time. I was very deep into the book so I didn’t mind.” Though on the outside I just smiled, on the inside my mind was doing a dance. HE READS BOOKS AS MUCH AS ME! A FELLOW BOOKWORM! WOOOOHOOOO! He then nonchalantly walked up to one of the doors of the big black cab and asked “Everybody ready to go?” We all nodded and stepped inside, still dripping wet from the rain. The plan was that we were going to be riding in a big cab, while he rode in his own car with all of our luggage with him. I sat there and looked out the window, and I watched as the rain danced for us halfway across the world.

Changi Airport in Singapore.

• Part 3

My legs wobbled as I walked along to the seats by the gate. Everyone aboard the flight were given a one hour break to “freshen up.” But I honestly don’t think that people could recover after a thirteen hour and thirty minute flight in one hour. We had just landed in Hong Kong. My mom and I went to the bathroom to brush our teeth, and comb our hair( and may I mention, the bathroom was so cool.) My brother and my dad went to the men’s restroom as my mom and I got our stuff ready and put together. I reorganized my first aid supplies and took out my little leather journal and stuck it in my pocket. I knew I would use it later. My brother and dad came back. I marveled at the structure and size as my brother look wide-eyed at the planes that were lined up in rows, counting each one and talking excitedly about how he loved it and how cool it was( he was four years old so this was quite typical). We walked down to the gate. Passing by shops and stores. We stopped by a Starbucks and my dad bought a coffee. and two cookies for my brother and I. My brother and I ate the cookies as we pointed out to stores and got closer to the gate. We walked into the gate, giving our tickets to the lady collecting them in the desk beside the gate.

We went to our seats, and I claimed the window seat(again) to my fathers playful dismay. I settled in my seat, buckling my seat belt with ease. My brother needed help with his though. His seat belt sat in a sad little pile of metal and material on his lap. i put it on and he sat there happily. I looked out the window at the ground below. I saw workers bustling around with carts of luggage, putting it inside the plane that was a few miles away. The plane started to move slowly at first, we picked up speed, going along the runway. I gripped the armrests. I love it when we take off because it feels like you are so pressurized into the seats that you could be going into the speed of a rocket ship picking up speed as it goes out of the Earth’s atmospheric layer. We were finally in the air, I looked down below, watching the buildings and towers. One of my favorite sights to see on a plane though is the ocean. It’s amazing to see the different shades of blue’s and bluish greens.

I didn’t know what else to do with myself so I decided to switch on the screen and play a movie. Shortly afterwards, I was deep into the movie. Flight attendants started coming down the rows with meals for the passengers. I munched on my food while watching my movie, looking out the window, and was carefully making sure my brother didn’t spill anything. This flight was three hours and fifty minutes, since it was from Hong Kong to Singapore. And we were already about an hour in. I was starting to re watch the live action Cinderella movie because everything else stored in the options was either something I already watched, or something I wasn’t allowed to watch by my parent’s request’s. Plus, I really liked the movie. It was very good.

What I noticed about people boarding planes and getting off them is that there are two stereotypes. There is that person or group of people that enjoy every minute of their travel, and breathe in every moment they have away from home. On the other hand there are the people who tend to be, um, unappreciative. It’s always click, click, click, click. Tens and hundreds of unnecessary pictures. Can pictures make you hear? No. Can pictures make you touch? No. Can pictures make you feel? No. Absolutely not. It’s better to live the moment then look at it through a screen. You could probably tell which stereotype I seem to prefer the most.

Throughout the whole flight I spent most of my time looking out the window, or watching a movie. But I thought as well, taking notes in my head of what I saw and what we did. Soon enough, we heard over the speaker. “We will be landing in Singapore, please prepare for landing.” As soon as I heard those words I looked at my brother, my mom, and my dad. I produced a ridiculous grin of excitement and enjoyment.

An aerial view of Kong Kong Airport.

• Part 2

I sat there looking at the world down below, the view was incredible. But soon enough I got bored. I was still clutching the warm towel that the flight attendants passed out to each passenger so I passed it to my mother who gave it back to the flight attendants. I decided to turn on the screen that was in front of me. I used the little remote underneath to control it. I was still chewing on the little sour gummies my mom gave me that I can eat so my ears wouldn’t get stuffed. I looked through the movies they had, I was anticipating to watch the live action Cinderella movie that released before we planned for our Singapore/India trip. Since they put in the movie in the menu on the screen, I decided to watch it. A few moments later a flight attendant came along our row and gave us each a packet of peanuts. I really liked the peanuts they always passed out so I ate them quickly. Along with the peanuts they gave me a little earphone holder that had a Disney Frozen character. My brother got a similar one but a deep blue with a character from the movie Monsters University. It was really cute and it was going to be really handy for when school started up again.

As I continued watching the movie my dad switched on his screen, scrolling through. My brother was watching the movie Home, my mom was watching it as well. A moment later another flight attendant came along with a cart full with juice cartons, coffee, and mugs and cups, along with little creamers and sugar packets for the warm drinks. My brother got apple juice along with my parents, and I asked for some orange juice. I paused it to drink it slowly. We still had thirteen hours and thirty minutes more until we arrived at Hong Kong. But I didn’t mind. I always love the whole experience of going to airports and going on long flights. I get so sad when we go to an airport but only to pick someone up, and not us boarding the plane ourselves. I love the experience and counting down the days until I will be in the air. Alas, this is only every two or three years for me, so I enjoy every moment I have aboard. I looked out the window the world passed by down below. I sipped my orange juice. Watching and watching. Soon another flight attendant came along with trays of food and gave one to my dad, one to my mom, one for my brother, and one to me. When we booked our flight ticket we were able to choose which food that we wanted for us to eat in the flight, we ate vegetarian Indian food. Surprisingly, the food was much better then what they served the last time we went. It tasted really good, I ate and watched the world down below silently. It was still quite dark, since it was about two thirty or three o’clock in the morning.

Th meal consisted of vegetable rice, a little cup of fruit, plain yogurt, little dinner rolls with butter to spread on it, pickle slices, chutney, gravy, and an Indian flat bread. I brushed off the leftover crumbs on my seat belt and shirt. I told my mom that I had to use the restroom. I unbuckled my seat belt. Finally, I have mastered the ways of the airline seatbelt. When I was one the plane the last time a few years ago, I struggled to put the seat belt on, and take it off. I shimmied my way to the little walkway towards the bathroom. I stepped inside and did my business. When I was little, I used to be terrified by something incredibly odd… Locks. That’s right. Locks. I was always afraid that every time I locked a door, I was so scared that I would be trapped inside forever. Especially if it consisted of the ones in airplane bathrooms. Though I am not scared anymore I have to admit. I honestly still am kinda scared of locking myself for eternity in a bathroom stall. I know it sounds weird and really stupid but I have very few fears. This is one of them. But now that I was older and more experienced I wasn’t scared at all. Okay maybe a little but that isn’t the point here.

I walked back to my seat. A flight attendant smiled at me and I grinned back. I think that they have a lot of stamina. What I mean is every time you see them, you can never see a single trace of sluggish body behavior, they never look tired. While we look so tired with bags under our eyes, and our muscles aching, here they are standing there, posture is absolutely perfect, their eyes always have that happy glint in them, their mouths are nothing but smiles, their voices are as soft, gentle, and kind. They never ever snap at you or have an edgy tone. They stay like that even after thirteen or more hours. I don’t think I would ever be able to be that way without having thorough training. I out my seat belt on( without struggle) I settled in my seat and my mom handed me an extra pillow that I could put on my armrest. I took a quick look at the scene in the window before drifting off to a deep and very much needed soundless sleep. A long while later I woke to the sounds of the bustling awaking of the morning. The sky was a brilliant light blue. The clouds were like big white puffs of cotton. I was so tempted to reach out and touch them. The landscape below was incredible. It had been quite a while since we had dinner, so the flight attendants came along, bumbling along the walkways serving passengers their breakfasts. I ate and watched a little bit of my movie as well as making sure my brother didn’t stain the seat with butter, juice, and jelly.

A few hours later we finished our lunches. For a while I scrolled through the movies, looked out the window, talked with my brother, and made pictures in my head of the scenes before me. But then over the speaker we heard a voice stating that we were going to be landing in Hong Kong in fifteen minutes. The plane went up and down. I was surprised I didn’t throw up in the past thirteen and a half hours of the flight. I have quite a sensitive stomach and I was very surprised at my own shocking achievement. I watched as we went down, down, down, until we were hovering above the runway. I know it sounds super weird but I really like when we have turbulence in flights. I love going really fast and then going on a bumpy turn or road so this was super fun for me. I gripped on to the armrests until it winded down. Then finally we stopped. We were finally here. In Hong Kong. I was here.

• Part 1

It was mid May and the year 2015. My mom had just started packing all of our things in duffel bags and backpacks. Why? Well, lets just say we were going to be traveling 8,448 miles( 13, 595 kilometers ) away from the United States. Where were we traveling exactly? If you guessed India. You are correct. Our house was a flurry of bags and clothes for about a month. I was attempting to help my mother. But I don’t thing sitting there reading while answering yes or no questions is a technical term for helping.

“Kanmani do you wa–” My mom stopped as I held up my pointer finger in a stance saying “wait.” I was reading a 982 page book about dragons.

“Kanmani I said do y–.”

“Shh.” My finger still pointed to the ceiling.

“Kanmani do you want your own ba–”

“Mother I am busy at the moment.” I said calmly

My mom sighed as I continued to the depths of my thick book.

“KANMANI!” My mom said in exasperation.

My head instantly snapped back into reality. “Huh!?” I said in unison to my mothers annoyed sighs. See here’s the thing. I am a huge reader. I mean if I start reading a book and it’s really really good, or in one of my favorite genre’s. I won’t speak to you for days. If I don’t answer you the first 6 times you try to get my attention, you won’t be able to make physical contact with me for about 2 to 4hours depending on the book. If it’s a book with more than 500 pages you won’t be able to speak to me without me explaining every single detail in the book, or I just won’t pay attention altogether for days. Anyway I stood up and asked “What did you want to ask me mom?” My mom replied with a  relieved face “I was going to ask you if you wanted you’re own bag to take to India. I’ll let you pack it yourself. But I’m only giving you a backpack not a roller bag, got it?” I nodded my head as she handed me a humongous backpack that weighed almost like nothing. I took it upstairs to my room and made a checklist in my head.

I took out a piece of paper and started writing, I checked of everything that I put in. But something definitely was missing… OH. MY. GOD. I forgot to put in books. I FORGOT TO PUT IN BOOKS! WHAT KIND OF PERSON AM I FOR DOING THIS? I thought( I was ten at the time I went, so I used a lot of hyperbole’s and exaggerated a lot.) I grabbed a few books and my Kindle and put them inside. My mom was packing all of our clothing in a separate piece of luggage so we didn’t have to lug huge bags with us throughout the whole trip. One disadvantage we had while packing was my brother. He always hopped onto anything big and bulky with a zipper and try to package himself into luggage. Therefore leading me to have the unfortunate responsibility  of dealing with the human version of a kangaroo. All afternoon this is what happened:

“Madhavan get out of there! You’re going to suffocate!” I yelled as I ran downstairs to see my brother concealing himself in a huge roller bag.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!!!!!!” He taunted.

“UUUUUUUHHHHHHHH. GET. BACK. HERE. BEFORE I WHACK YOU WITH A BOOK THAT HAS 982 PAGES IN IT AND A HARD COVER.” I said in an edgy tone, my voice rising.

“NA NANA NA NA!” He retorted with a ridiculous grin on his face as he ran around the living room, making bags topple and fall, in order to escape my vengeance, he hopped into of the biggest bag that was empty and closed the lid. I looked for him everywhere for about 15 minutes, then I heard snickering coming from one of the big bags. As he got out to run away I strangled him. He had no escape. I then dragged him upstairs, he ran to the bed, but instead he fell hard onto the pillow mountain towering him. I got the pillows and put them around him so he was basically stuck in a mound of blankets and pillows with only his head sticking out. “Ha ha.” I said. I knew he would escape later though.

This was basically how my days started and ended when we were packing and planning for India. I became a little bit more helpful with packing by keeping my brother from becoming a package.

I continued packing a few more things in my backpack and printed out a checklist that I could use as well. This was I had on my list:

• Books
• Bracelets
• Elastics
• First Aid Kit
• Lip Balm
• Mini Fan
• Hand Sanitizer
• Sticker Book( For Madhavan)
• Kindle
• IPod
• Earbuds
• Glasses Case/Glasses

I put everything inside, since it wasn’t that much it wasn’t that hard to put everything inside. But as the days passed by, my mom put more and more things into my bag and by the time it was the week of departure, it drooped on my shoulders. A few days before we were going to leave my dad had printed out a long checklist my mom asked me to check everything off.

“Toothbrushes?’ She asked.

“Check.” I said as I checked it off the list.

“Toothpaste?”

“Check.”

“Hair brushes and elastics?”

“Check check.”

“Shower caps, lotion, and, pads?”

“Check check check.”

And so on.

I woke up one Sunday morning I took a shower and put on my regular clothes for home. I decided to take one shower in the afternoon so I can be fresh with the new clothes we bought for the flight. We spent most of the day checking the house, cleaning up, and doing last minute checks and calls. Soon the sky was a shade of darkish light blue. I took a shower and put on blue jeans, a purple tee shirt, and a clip for my hair. Sekar periyappa( periyappa that means uncle)came and we went down the steps to his big red car. I helped my dad put the bags in the trunk and put my backpack next to the seat I was using. I had a whole row to myself because there were three rows.

My peryiappa and my dad in the front, my mom and brother in the middle, and I was in the back. We had to go to the Singapore Airlines Boarding area in San Fransisco. We were going to be driving for one hour. We stopped by Downtown Pleasant Hill to grab some smoothies from Jamba Juice. As we drove I sipped on my strawberry smoothie looking out the window. I talked with my mother and brother about what I wanted to do and see while my dad and periyappa talked about the flight, what we plan to do, and when we need him when we come back.

We had finally arrived in front of the airport. The architecture was still the same inside and out, everything was exactly like it was when I was 7 years old. But I still marveled at the sight of the roof that looked like the metal was twisting and twisting, and the poles making it stand looked as if they were brambles holding up dainty roses. We walked inside my backpack on my broad shoulders. We went to the baggage check in line. We checked in our bags and then we sat at one of the benches nearby these glass cases that showcased Asian jewelry and crowns. While the adults talked, my brother and I marveled at the treasures. But then my mom and I had to go to the bathroom. My mom and I walked to the bathroom nearby. Now let me make this clear. Not only do I love the architecture of the airport but the bathrooms they build are super cool. I know that sounds really weird, but if you don’t believe me, look in the internet or go there when you travel.

After we went to this restaurant for dinner. We had burgers and fries. After that we talked a bit more and then we had to go to the security clearance. While we were in the line we waved goodbye to periyappa. He stood there until we couldn’t see him and he couldn’t see us. I felt really bad and really sad. Throughout the whole thing right until this point he kept asking if we needed anything or if we needed him for anything extra for when we got back. That’s just the way he is. That is how my whole family is. Different and yet the same. We got the one of the security guards that checked our passports for well, security. She seemed tired and looked like she wanted to go home. seeing thousands of people, each and every day. That’s just hard to achieve.

We then walked towards the gate. We went up a long escalator and when we stepped of we saw rows and rows of shops. My brother loved the escalator though. When we were waiting for the flight he didn’t sit still, he ran up and down the isles, his little Mickey mouse backpack on his shoulders. he stood by his window his face pressed against the extremely clean glass staring in awe at the airplane. I listened to music on my IPod as I looked at the window. We finally boarded the plane at 12:15.( It was actually supposed to be able to let passengers in at 12:05 but it came a bit late). I shuffled through the packed line, finally my foot stepped onto the floor of the bridge binding the plane and building for boarding. My parents were a few steps behind my brother and I. We found our seats. I chose to sit near the window, my brother in the middle, my mother next to him, and my dad was next to us in a different row. Flight took off at 1:15 sharp. I watched through the window as the San Fransisco skyline became smaller and smaller, as we rose higher and higher. We were airborne, I loved the feeling of soaring, I didn’t want it to stop. The world was passing by so quickly but I was ready.  Ready or not, here I come.