As I take the final step getting back to the apartment in Singapore, taxi drivers react with surprise when I give them the destination.
“105 Henderson Crescent.”
“What is your destination?”
“105 Henderson Crescent.”
“Where?”
“Henderson Crescent, off Alexandra Road near Lower Delta Road.”
“Really? Do you want me to take the ECP to the AYE to Lower Delta?”
“Yes, that will work.”
“Are you going to the condo off a Alexandra?”
“No, 105 Henderson Crescent.”
Normally, there is a shrug of the shoulder as we begin the journey. It is clear that they do not believe me. I am paying so they are ok with the journey, but they have their doubts. The destination does not make sense.
For anyone that is not familiar with Singapore, the conversation and reaction is puzzling. It is hard to describe that the taxi driver has looked at me and concluded that I live in a particular type of housing. It does not compute that I live in HDB (government developed) housing. I must be mistaken in my destination.
In an old story, Paul spoke to a Captain. When he did, the honest surprise reminded me of my taxi drivers. “He answered, ‘Oh, I didn’t know you spoke Greek. I thought you were the Egyptian who not long ago started a riot here, and then hid out in the desert with his four thousand thugs.’” (Acts 21.38)
I like living at Henderson Crescent. I enjoy the atmosphere of the apartment block. I feel safe here. It is clean, functional, and peaceful. While I admit that I have not seen another American or European face in the complex, there many ethnic groups represented.
My initial annoyance with the taxi driver’s reaction has given way to understanding. I know they have their assumptions. I understand that I may not fit their expectations of who lives at Henderson. I can appreciate that they are, in a way, trying to be helpful.
Last night, in my tiredness, I responded and said, “Yes, Henderson Crescent please.” I know my destination even in their doubts.
