Prologue:
“Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along”.
— Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī
Memories about my beloved Singapore can easily fill chapters of a book, as it is worthy of the love of a lifetime. While historic merchant caravans traveling the Silk Roads enjoyed listening to long stories as they rested on welcoming inns’ community kangs, I like to be mindful of the modern traveler who arrives at her Airbnb, gets comfortable on the couch, and would rather watch a brief Reel or TikTok than listen to a drawn-out narration before falling asleep. To this effect, I am sharing a brief memory of our journey together — this writer and Singapura — dating back to the beginning of “an affair to remember.” And yes, it is astounding: sometimes we traveled side by side, hand in hand, and at other times, we were physically far apart but close at heart and always in imminent sight. Once-in-a-lifetime dreams do come true.
Meet Cute:
“Oh, it’s nobody’s fault but my own! I was looking up. …”
(Terry McKay, 1957)
It was a beautiful day—the last day of May 1993—when I arrived at Changi Airport. Having lived in Florence, Italy for the past four years, I was accustomed to its dashingly handsome fashionable style and charmingly forward advances, as well as its slightly unstructured, chaotic lifestyle. With Armani, Gucci, Ferrari, and Lamborghini in your backyard, not to mention world-renowned cafés, chocolate, pastries, and jewelry makers, an Asian finance, food, and shopping paradise likely won’t tempt you to question your loyalty to your gallant Italian beau. Or could it?
I visited Singapore for a job prospect, invited by a client — a Malaysian multinational group with an office in Singapore — and I came with an open mind. I was 23, and he was 28. I almost fell into his arms when I lost my balance stepping off the plane. With his lean, brainy, elegant and curated appearance, he welcomed me with a warm and confident smile, catching me gently and seemingly without effort. I was stunned. He was well-tempered— inside Changi’s air conditioning system was working at its best—and he presented well-mannered, when he accompanied me outside as he walked close to me yet kept a respectful distance. He prepared me gently for Singapore’s perpetual tropical rainforest climate and warned me about impending afternoon showers due to the current southwest monsoon. I can’t deny it; I enjoyed stepping into the hot, humid air and when I looked into his eyes, it was clearly summer.
The Familiar Stranger:
“Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories. We’ve already missed the Spring. …”
(Terry McKay, 1957)
At the pickup point, where my future colleague Arul awaited me, my gentle and by now familiar companion did not leave my side. He followed me quietly to the car, entered the backseat, and allowed me to converse with Arul, whom I had previously met in Italy. As a public relations and business development consultant, I assisted my colleague and friend Samir, who was responsible for the South Asian and Middle Eastern markets, in showing his long-term clients the beauty of the Tuscan marble quarries and our marble fabrication plants. This professional engagement led to the development of a professional bond and friendship, after which the group members invited me to visit Singapore and Malaysia to discuss a work opportunity with them. Arul and I exchanged pleasantries. He inquired about Samir, our boss Luciano and our current production capacity. I worked for a family-owned Italian company, and it was common back then for everyone to know each other personally.
Arul dropped me off at my accommodation and we agreed to meet for an early dinner with the entire team. “So kind,” I remarked. Arul ran off, jokingly stating, “Get some rest so tonight we can paint the town.” I liked Arul and his partners. We had good vibes, consisting of mutual respect, both personal and professional, enriched by friendly banter. Yet, to be frank, I had secretly been waiting for Arul to leave, longing to be alone again with the mysterious yet familiar stranger who had welcomed me earlier with open arms as if in a Hollywood meet-cute.
Serendipitous Affinity:
“I thought everything was fine until I saw you last night.
Then I knew there must be something between us, even if it’s only an ocean. …”
(Nickie Ferrante, 1957)
Once again, he waited patiently while I showered, unpacked, and rested briefly. When I finally opened the balcony door, he gazed over my shoulder as I saw my first frangipani, which remains my favorite flower and scent to this day. Later, he suggested we should head downstairs to the buffet. It wasn’t so much about eating, but more about exploring the spread. I did try papaya and fresh mango for the first time. He just smiled and, in good humor, teased me, saying he had many exotic flavors and tastes to offer. He was playful yet classy. We went for a short walk — my companion remains purposeful to this day, yet his actions never appear orchestrated — and ended up at a row of shop houses with hawkers. There, I curiously tasted vada and durian and deeply enjoyed both. He was seriously astounded yet very self-aware and tactful in his communication. With sparkling eyes, he turned to me, smiling, and said, “You like vada—you like spicy food.” We continued our walk and entered a nearby park for a short stroll. By now it was afternoon.
He gently took my hand as he introduced me to this hidden oasis of tranquility. It evoked Geborgenheit—a sense of blissful security that I had felt in distant times. Memories of a small Bavarian village from my childhood resurfaced, along with the sense of safety I felt in my grandparents’ home. Geborgenheit is a complex feeling—more than a word—and I instantly realized that although I had adored the gallant Florentine, I had neither felt completely safe nor was I able to relax, trust, and expect untainted serendipity in his presence. The first and last time I experienced utter carefree tranquility was during the early years of my childhood, when my grandparents were still alive and the world felt serene and peaceful. In that moment, I realized he — the familiar stranger — who caressed my hand had become intimately familiar. He had entered a realm and opened a beautiful space in my heart and soul that had previously seemed closed and lost forever. I felt it, and so did he.
Frightfully Intimate:
“You’ve been crying? … Beauty does that to me.”
(Nickie Ferrante to Terry McKay, 1957)
We made our way back to the hotel in blissful silence.
Fast-forward:
Even today, when someone asks me what makes Singapore so special to me, I reply thinking of this very moment in time and say: “There are so many reasons. Let me share just one,” Soon after my arrival, I was moved by Singapore’s balanced dichotomy. Despite being a cosmopolitan city and financial giant — a complete extrovert on the surface — he welcomed me, the introvert, with gentleness and peaceful serendipity. He brought back long-faded memories of my upbringing in a quaint southern German village. He impressed me because he understood and catered to the introvert’s need for quiet and peace. More than ever today, after 32 years of our joint journey through life, I appreciate the serenity and peacefulness of my gentle companion. I adore the rain, angsana, and sea almond trees that shade the roadsides and quaint village pathways, which seamlessly weave into to the hustle and bustle of Orchard Road.
Destiny Decreed:
“What is meant for you will reach you even if it is beneath two mountains and what is not meant for you will not reach you even if it is between your two lips.”
Imam-al-Ghazali
By the time we arrived at the hotel, I had to prepare for “painting the town” with Arul and his team. First, we had dinner at Dempsey, where we enjoyed Indian food served on banana leaves in a beautiful garden setting. Then, we visited Clarke Quay and Boat Quay and topped off the evening with a stop at Raffles Bar. Needless to say, my future colleagues went all out for the next six days to show me that their office in Singapore was an innovative workspace and that the city offered a wonderful time to newcomers. I truly appreciated all of it. Yet, what they did not know was that qadr, or destiny, had already been decreed. It wasn’t because of their incredible professional and personal efforts or their introduction to the Grand Asian Master of finance, business, and cosmopolitan shopping. Rather, it was because of my personal experiences and affinity with the Gentle Giant. No longer a stranger, I had someone by my side who made me realize it was now or never—I was to move across oceans.
Arrivederci:
“We’ve created a problem. …. Yes, I know, so let’s not complicate it anymore. …”
(Nickie Ferrante to Terry McKay, 1956)
Just as he had welcomed me, he saw me off to Changi airport. Memories of his tender smile accompanied me back to Italy, the country I had called home for the past four years. And here I was … I left the past behind, respectfully parting ways with Mr. Florence without providing detailed explanations. I had my belongings packed and shipped to return to my forever love within eight weeks. Thus, an initial meet-cute turned into a forever love affair. This is where Bollywood and Hollywood scripts end. For us, though—this writer and Singapura—it was merely the beginning.
For now, let’s turn the page and close the book. It can be reopened later for the curious traveler who desires to indulge and explore the intricacies of our forever intertwined lives further.
And finally, here’s to you, my Dearest Darling! Happy Birthday! I can’t believe how quickly time has passed. What I wish for you, you know: May you receive not everything you desire most, but everything that will serve you best. … With Love always.
Reference
McCarey, L. & Wald, J. (Directors). (1957). An affair to remember [Film]. 20th Century Fox.
Footnotes
* Florence/Florentine – personified as he for the literary purposes of this article.
** Singapore / Singapura – personified as he for the literary purposes of this article.
Named after the classic 1957 American film An Affair to Remember, this column chronicles the lifelong poignant love story of Iman, a German-born, American-educated, and Singaporean-at-heart woman, with the Garden City.
The first serve, titled “The Familiar Stranger,” sets the stage. It recounts her first tantalizing encounter with Singapore — the familiar stranger — over 30 years ago. An unlikely love affair unfolds. Life tells the best stories. While most beginnings are easy, in this world, we will experience adversity. Hardship transforms us and is followed by ease. These are the seasons of life. Over the course of this column, expect to see dramatic elements unfold, as well as joyous serendipity.
