Frustration

I was thinking on Sunday that I should write a post - on settling in, settling down, developing good routines. I'd had a lovely weekend that involved biking, yoga, pilates, coffee, a couple of birthday celebrations for friends, errand running, cooking...all of the things that make me feel centered and grounded and at home. All of the things I've been trying to develop since moving to this odd little Island.

I didn't write the post - I went out with friends instead - but was still feeling that calm sense of belonging on Monday morning when I set out to work in the rain.

Now, I like rain. A lot. But I don't like rain when I'm outside in Singapore because (foreshadowing!) the sidewalks are not good. Many of them turn into slick sheets at the first sign of dampness, with no grip and no traction. When we have the type of weather we had Monday morning (lashing rain, wind, thunder, lightning) I wear my heaviest, grippiest shoes and am ever-so-cautious about how and where I walk.

Ah well, the best laid plans...

Nearly to work, walking carefully, carefully, foot steps on sidewalk, foot slips on sidewalk, I go down, and knee meets corner. Blood and pain and rage.

I ended up in the emergency room, and my leg received eight stitches in the two gashes - one just at the bend of the bottom of the knee (deep enough to see kneecap), one where the shin and knee meet. I went to work (I work just next to the hospital) and stayed for a while, but the pain was bad, and the frustration...

I've always, always been clumsy and accident prone. I'm no stranger to broken bones, sprains, torn ligaments, stitches, bruises, etc. It's a running joke amongst my friends and family.

But guess what? It's not so funny. I can't walk properly, no biking or jogging for at least a month, no yoga or pilates for at least two weeks. I can't do the things that keep me centered and balanced and sane. Going up stairs is a chore, standing on a crowded bus is agony. I can't find a comfortable position to sit or stand or lie down, so my sleep last night was nearly useless. I can't get the wound wet, so showering...no, let's not speak about that.

It would be frustrating anywhere, but somehow it feels worse here. I don't know why.

I guess all there is to do is suck it up and deal. The only way over is through. Wish me luck.

Can(not)

I'm not, in any way, proficient in Singlish.

(Def. Singlish: English-based creole spoken and written colloquially in Singapore. Although English is the lexifier language, Singlish has its unique slang and syntax, which are more pronounced in informal speech. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Singlish_vocabulary))

However, one phrase that I'm getting more and more accustomed to is "Can" or "Can Can", which means, generally, "Yes!" or "No problem!" I've heard it a lot since getting here. Taxis are cheap, and I've relied upon them somewhat when I've been out late with colleagues, so in the taxi - "Can you get me to [home]?"

"Can!"

"Any idea how I can get to [random grocery store/cultural sight/walking path/ATM]?"

"CanCan!"

My responses, unfortunately, make me sound like Wayne's World.

"Can!...Not."

I'm sorry, but I can't direct you to where I live, I can't quite understand if you're asking me how long I've been here, if my [nonexistant] husband is here with me, if I know the way to your bus stop, or if I have any particular opinion on the candidates in the upcoming Singaporean presidential election. I CanNOT. I want to - believe me, I want to be able to chat, to have an opinion, to have some idea of where I am and where I'm going, to talk with you and understand what you're saying to me. To CAN.

But, at the moment? I cannot. And there is little else that frustrates me so much.