Arriving in Chicago Part 2

So as I was saying, coming to America from Singapore felt like I’d gone backwards in time. I’m going to sound like a spoilt Singaporean for the rest of this post and admittedly, I probably was at the time of the experience but please know this post isn’t a rant, it’s just a description of my initial impressions when settling into my new temporary home in Chicago.

I felt like I’d walked onto a 60s era movie set when I first saw my dorm room. I pictured my dad living there in his youth with the exact same furniture. The room was in an old building, a rarity in Singapore where a structure is torn down every 2 minutes to be replaced by a flashy new one, and if not torn down, it’s completely refurbished. Even the historical buildings look new. I exaggerate of course but it’s pretty close to the truth. A friend recently remarked that there are no gritty parts left in Singapore, everything is so clean, new and plastic. A real pity, but I digress.

Perhaps a shinier example of my culture-shock can be illustrated in the contrast between public transportation systems in the two cities. Here’s the train I was used to riding in Singapore (Photo credit to Onitsuka Yusof):

And here’s the train I had to rely on in Chicago:

If it’s not clear from the photos, the Chicago el was dirty, slow and broke down often. This was pretty much the opposite of the Singapore MRT trains. But like I said, all these experiences were just a matter of fitting into the glove, so to speak. And fit, I did.