How to eat cheap in Singapore
How to eat cheap in Singapore
Also: Stay dry and avoid getting caned
From the second you arrive at Singapore’s Changi airport, you understand why it is consistently named best in the world. The sprawling halls are immaculate, the toilet seats are heated, and there is no shortage of inviting lounge chairs next to bubbling koi ponds. The massive waterfall that flows from the glass ceiling into a vortex below is a tourist attraction in its own right, but if that doesn't pique your interest you can wander through the two-story butterfly garden instead. It’s a carefully curated utopia that sets the tone for the rest of a traveler’s experience in the city.
Singapore is hard to wrap your head around, or at least it was for me. The first message that greets you when you step onto the train from the airport is a public information campaign that reads “Molestation is an offense punishable by caning.” I was stuck by the irony of progressive ideals enforced by an antiquated form of discipline.
If Singapore is strict and serious, it has everything to do with the city-state’s history. The swampy island at the tip of the Malay Peninsula sits at the crossroads of India, Southeast Asia, and China, and has been a strategic trading post since at least the 14th century.
But when Singapore gained independence from Malaysia in 1965, it hardly resembled the economic powerhouse it is today. The island lacked any natural resources or lucrative exports, and was composed largely of Malay, Chinese, and Indian communities living in poor conditions.
A man born in Singapore before the city’s independence described to me his experience of growing up in a typical Singaporean tenant house: several families shared one floor of a row home with thin partitions dividing the space between them. Those few square meters served as the family’s bedroom, dining, room and living room. In the back of the house, there was a small communal kitchen and a single bathroom for all the residents. There was a constant din from the daily lives of dozens of neighbors living under the same roof. When he was 11, the Singapore government moved residents out of the tenet houses and into government-built high-rises where his family still lives today.
Singapore’s first prime minister, Lee Kuan Yew, saw the city’s potential as a financial center, the modern-day version of the trading hub it always was. Faced with a diverse, poor, and uncoordinated population, Yew decided to first unite Singaporeans through English as a common language while still teaching other majority languages in the school system. Then, he decided, the best way to motivate citizens to clean up their act would be through their wallets. He imposed harsh fines and penalties for basic offenses – a legacy that continues to this day.
Fines in Singapore (At the time of writing, 1 Singaporean dollar equals .73 USD)
Selling chewing gum – S$2,000
Littering – S$300 to judge-ordered community service depending on size of item
Spitting in public – S$1,000
Failing to flush a public toilet – S$150
Jaywalking – S$50
To live in Singapore is to accept a unique style of democracy. The state decides to limit vices that endanger public safety, health, or cleanliness, and in return Singaporeans get to live in one of the most organized, futuristic cities in the world – without the freedom to chew gum or smoke in public.
Before arriving in March, I didn’t know much about Singapore’s harsh rules or rags-to-riches history. I only knew that finding a place to sleep in the city was a challenge.
We eventually settled for what was advertised online as a “room with private bathroom.” We didn’t notice that the photo had been cleverly cropped and were quite surprised to discover we had actually booked the bottom mattress of a queen-size bunk bed in a large hostel dormitory. The bathroom was private – just for the 14 of us.
We opted to stay in the Little India district after a friend told me it was as close as you could get to the experience of being in India without actually going there. I started to doubt whether she herself had been to India, because the neighborhood turned out to be mostly white, two-story row homes with blue or green shutters reminiscent of Singapore’s 144 years as a British colony. The streets were, of course, spotless, and dining at the local restaurants was beyond our budget.
Having shelled out 400 euros for a three-night stay at a hostel, a free walking tour sounded like the perfect way to begin our visit. The next morning we headed to Chinatown where we met up with a few travelers including a Spanish doctor, an engineer from California, a Pakistani entrepreneur and an Uber driver from Bali. The walking tour was run by a Singaporean man of Chinese descent who was very knowledgeable about the history and culture of the city. It was during this tour that he revealed the secret of how to avoid choosing between poverty or starvation in Singapore: food centres, also called Hawker centers.
At first I thought the name “food centre” was a bit uninspiring, but I soon realized food centres were exactly as the name implied: no-frills places to feed yourself. Scattered throughout the city, these large, open air buildings reminiscent of parking garages contained orderly rows of stalls, with tables filling every available space between them.
Each food centre I visited seemed to focus on a certain type of cuisine, usually based on the neighborhood. The Chinese food centre contained several competing duck stands, each with bright white, boiled birds proudly hanging in front. The Indian centre offered plenty of sweet butter chicken along with multitudes of curries and dals. The chatty owners hung out in front trying to convince each passerby that their biryani was better than the next.
Separate stalls dedicated entirely to drinks were spaced throughout. Not knowing what to choose, I ordered the option at the top of the list, Teh tarik – hot, foamy black tea sweetened with condensed milk typically associated with Malaysia.
Ordering at the food centre was a time-consuming process. As someone who appreciates knowing all the options, I first had to browse about 50 stands each with different menus and specialities. The stands that looked most appetizing were often the most popular with long lines of locals being served by just one person cooking and taking orders.
Eventually, after happily handing over $4 for a substantial plate of food, I wandered through the rows scanning intently for a group ready to vacate their table. Getting seated was only a small victory as I still had to locate the rest of the group wandering about only to discover that half of them were seated at a different table and looking for me.
Once we finally had six people gathered at a big circle table in the Chinese food centre, the real work could begin. We dug into noodles and passed around sugar-dusted pastries filled with red bean paste just pulled from the fryer. The Pakistani entrepreneur had found a stall selling northern Indian food, but complained that the owners were out of their minds to charge $4 for it.
We had been plagued by intense rainstorms all day and ate slowly wishing that it would let up. It did, slightly, which convinced us that it was a great idea to go check out the Spectra light show set over the water behind the iconic Marina Bay Sands hotel and shopping complex. We walked through the park along the river, stopping at an ice cream cart where the scoops were sold inside of hot dog buns.
Somewhere along the way, the rain started to pick back up, and although Singaporeans have built miles of covered sidewalk for this reason, we were thoroughly soaked as we entered Marina Bay Sands, a building so luxurious that “shopping mall” feels like an insult.
With soggy clothes clinging to our bodies and shoes making sharp squeaking noises on the smooth floor, we gawked at the Venice-inspired canal running through the ground floor below us, where tourists were no doubt paying a hefty price for a gondola ride complete with a gondolier in a striped shirt rowing peacefully along. We made our way slowly through the mall until we saw the light show starting on the other side. As we ran out through the glass doors and onto a large terrace, our Balinese companion slipped and skidded several meters along the ground spraying water like a car driving through a puddle. He was flustered but injured.
Just as we reached the water’s edge, the already heavy rain became a torrential downpour, dispersing the show’s light beams and rendering them little more than a colored haze set to muffled music. There was nothing to do but laugh. So we did. I took a video of us, a group of total strangers huddled together under broken umbrellas, water dripping down our faces, smiles wide.
If you’re going to Singapore, here’s what I’d recommend:
If you do nothing else, see the Changi Jewel waterfall at the airport. It’s located across from Terminal 1, outside of security.
See the Super Trees both during the day and at night – the lights show is more developed than the Spectra show at Marina Bay Sands in my opinion although both are free and worth doing.
Eat at food centres (also known as Hawker centers): they are clean and inexpensive and full of surprises. They are open all day but can get quite crowded around lunchtime.
Visit the Capitaspring building sky garden. Halfway up the side of one of Singapore’s tallest skyscrapers, this “garden” sits in an exposed area of the building’s framework. There are several levels of walking paths and rest spots offering great views of the city on sunny days. Free, closed on weekends.