life on the wild side

Following class and dinner with G (who is tiny - I actually felt, for once in my life, like the awkward, taller one!), some of the exchange guys wanted to hang out. "Casual," said F. "No clubbing. We'll just sit somewhere on campus and drink."

"Sure," I said, because I have an old soul and clubbing is not for me, generally. Post-agreement, I began to wonder whether NUS was a dry campus. I knew we weren't allowed alcohol inside the dorms, but I wasn't sure about on campus in general.

Yet around 10:30PM, I trekked out to the bus stop to await the few and far inbetween buses that might take me down to F's residence hall. I had examined the campus map and knew there was a stop directly in front of his building. I was prepared.

Or so I thought. Sadly, the various campus maps posted around, while indicating the location of bus stops, does not actually indicate the route the bus takes. I guessed wrong. I got off early. I was in a deserted parking lot lit by a stray street light and the lights of the looming building behind me - School of Computing, it said. "Fuck," I said. "I don't even know where the hell I am." (Which was a lie - clearly I was at the School of Computing.)

And so I crossed the barren parking lot towards the street in the belief that if you just follow a street long enough, it will take you somewhere useful. And so it did: it brought me to a map, which indicated that I should continue down the hill in order to find the dorm where I was originally supposed to end up.

Finally, after that minor adventure, I met up with F and B and their case of beer from the 7/11 just outside of campus. "Let us drink," said they, and found us a corner of a different deserted parking lot to sit in while drinking our German beer. We were willing to take the risks of drinking on campus, oh yes, but not to push so far as to find a building in which to drink because buildings, they have security.

A eventually joined up with us and we all migrated to the bus stop in front of F's dorm to sit and drink and talk. It was about half an hour into this when A suddenly exclaimed, under his breath, "Cops, cops!" and frantically shoved his beer can behind him, out of sight. We rearranged in muted panic and sat in silence as the cop car pulled by slowly, on patrol. Two feet past us, it stopped. We held our breaths. It backed up. We stared at it. It turned down a different street.

"Holy shit," said A, "I thought we were about to get arrested and then caned."

"Nah," said F, laughing in relief. "We'd give Mei over to pay the price."

"Excuse me," said I, "I'll have you know only men get caned in Singapore." And so it's true, as backed by the fount of knowledge that is Wikipedia.

Though the consequences would undoubtedly not even come close to caning, it's something to joke about, I suppose. It's hard to imagine that they'd do much to one or two errant students, especially if we're international exchange and can claim ignorance as defense for almost everything, whether it's drinking shitty beer in shady parking lots or sneaking a non-resident into a resident-hall dining hall. Did you know they required you to sign in your name, room #, and ID before serving you your free dining hall food? I found out when I got in line and lied on that paper, followed closely by F.

Singapore makes rebels out of all of us.

Well-fed rebels, at least. After our close call, we walked out of campus to a nearby 24-hour eatery, where I got a mini-Beijing breakfast of 油条豆浆 (hot soy milk + fried dough stick). God it was good. Then A and I proceeded to walk off our food by walking halfway across campus back to PGP, as buses quit running at 11.

It's 2AM and I have not yet been arrested - for drinking, or stealing residents-only food, or soliciting anyone through windows. It's a good night. And it's time for bed.