Weather Report (just one, it's always the same)
Singapore is hot. We’re one degree north of (meaning practically on top of) the equator, so the weather is a very humid 30 degrees C or so, with little seasonal variation. Not my cup of tea. Particularly when wearing a three-piece suit. I soon notice that jackets are frowned upon by bankers around here and will happily leave my jacket at home the next time I head for the bank. Until then, I sweat a lot whenever I’m outside of a building, with the concurrent shivers whenever I enter an air-conditioned building. The latter remind me of the U.S.: A/C is invariably central, and invariably set to an intelligence-insultingly low setting. Everybody freezes inside. And, just like in the U.S., everybody accepts this screaming affront against the environment, efficiency, health care and common sense with the bovine lethargy usually afforded the weather. Unless, I guess, you’re German, in which case even the weather can get you riled up.
Maybe it’s because it is, in fact the weather (indoors). And maybe it’s only Annette and I (and the auditors) who object to it because we’re German. Hmmm. Still, there are so many things fundamentally wrong with making it artificially cold (rather than cooling it to a pleasant warmth) inside that it beggars description. Maybe that’s why people don’t mention it.
Unless, of course - getting back to the original subject - they’re German. The two young ladies sent here on behalf of the auditing company we hired to do the (lion’s share of) the on-site inspection arrived here a day early and put their foot down: they would not be able to work in an ice-box. And lo and behold, a technician was found who made sure that the (allegedly centrally controlled and invariably set too low) A/C only cooled the room a little - to a pleasant early summer warmth. Wonderful.
Going outside (say, for lunch) is like walking against a wall of oppressive heat and humidity. Sweat begins to be visible within a few minutes spent outside (less, if they’re spent in the sun). There are tropical trees in the streets between the skyscrapers, which are otherwise filled with a teeming mass of people (and lots of cars, don’t forget the cars).
We grab lunch in a place which mirrors this. At the “hawkers”, there are lots of little food stalls which sell their various foods, all visibly graded by local authorities according to the hygiene standards found at the last inspection. (Everything I see is graded “B” - I don’t find any examples of the other two supposedly possible ratings, but don’t spend much time looking, either.) Having ascertained some food, one then seeks to find a table somewhere in the mass of tightly placed tables and chairs that make up a sort of food court. Not easy to do. What’s also not easy is to keep one’s tie (or long hair, if so equipped) out of one’s food when the fans, all set to maximum output, rotate one’s way. The fans are everywhere, but there’s only so much cooling you can achieve by making hot air move around faster…
Maybe it’s because it is, in fact the weather (indoors). And maybe it’s only Annette and I (and the auditors) who object to it because we’re German. Hmmm. Still, there are so many things fundamentally wrong with making it artificially cold (rather than cooling it to a pleasant warmth) inside that it beggars description. Maybe that’s why people don’t mention it.
Unless, of course - getting back to the original subject - they’re German. The two young ladies sent here on behalf of the auditing company we hired to do the (lion’s share of) the on-site inspection arrived here a day early and put their foot down: they would not be able to work in an ice-box. And lo and behold, a technician was found who made sure that the (allegedly centrally controlled and invariably set too low) A/C only cooled the room a little - to a pleasant early summer warmth. Wonderful.
Going outside (say, for lunch) is like walking against a wall of oppressive heat and humidity. Sweat begins to be visible within a few minutes spent outside (less, if they’re spent in the sun). There are tropical trees in the streets between the skyscrapers, which are otherwise filled with a teeming mass of people (and lots of cars, don’t forget the cars).
We grab lunch in a place which mirrors this. At the “hawkers”, there are lots of little food stalls which sell their various foods, all visibly graded by local authorities according to the hygiene standards found at the last inspection. (Everything I see is graded “B” - I don’t find any examples of the other two supposedly possible ratings, but don’t spend much time looking, either.) Having ascertained some food, one then seeks to find a table somewhere in the mass of tightly placed tables and chairs that make up a sort of food court. Not easy to do. What’s also not easy is to keep one’s tie (or long hair, if so equipped) out of one’s food when the fans, all set to maximum output, rotate one’s way. The fans are everywhere, but there’s only so much cooling you can achieve by making hot air move around faster…