Singapore has been my home for a few months now. Things have started to become familiar, and I’ve immersed myself in the local culture. From pulling out my MRT card seconds before reaching the tap machine to identifying the traffic lights by the sounds they make and even calling the taxi driver “uncle.”
Still, I feel homesick every now and then, usually triggered by a craving for my Amma’s cooking.
On those days, come rain or shine, I make a trip to the Bugis Village Market. Sometimes by Bus 131, sometimes on foot, occasionally right after my class, and sometimes after convincing myself to get out of bed and step into the humid Singaporean weather.
Walking on the left side of Bugis Village’s many alleys, ignoring the various stalls, making a mental note to buy the Che Guevara t-shirt this time, I’d eventually turn left to a small food court covered in red tarp, giving the whole corner a bright red glow.
There are a few food stalls there, but even if you were to ask me the day after I visited the food court, I could never recall the food sold there, besides the one store I came for: the no-name Peranakan cuisine stall I stumbled upon randomly a few moons ago.
My order has always been the same. A plate of rice with a side of Prawn Tauco (prawn cooked with fermented soybean) for $9. The Prawn Tauco dish the aunty makes resembles my Amma’s.
They are not exactly the same, but they are very close in taste.
I’d sit and polish it off within minutes. Sometimes with a drink on the side, sometimes while reading a book, and other times while texting my friends. But never with a friend, always alone, as if it were my recharging sanctuary. Eventually, I’d find my way home, full, happy, and sleepy, once again forgetting to get the Che Guevara t-shirt.
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🍤 ━ KK
