Finally on the road!

I just read last night that Singapore is by far the most well-laid-out and organized city in SE Asia. This does not bode well for me. With bike freshly assembled (minus a missing bolt needed to attach my fender) and a big smile on my face, I left the Broadway Hotel to go find a replacement bolt. "There is a bike shop right behind the Temple of a Thousand Lights" the front desk clerk explained as he pointed to the spot on my admittedly undetailed map. The Sakaya Muni Gaya Buddhist Temple is mentioned in my book so...great I'll go get the part and visit the temple too.
The first thing to hit me as I left the hotel was the heat. OK, no worries, I'm ready for it after all the hot and humid rides on Kauai. The next thing that hit, a second later, was the air quality...or lack of it. The Kauaiian sea breeze did not prepare me for the grey miserable haze that hung in the air. The pall was from the annual ecological fest over in Indonesia, hundreds of miles away. There thousands of fires are set to burn forests for more farmland so we can have more people so we can burn more forests so we can... but I digress. Smiling, and coughing now, I rode toward the temple maybe a quarter mile away. One hour later ( at a rate of 0.25 miles per hour if my math serves me) after Jalan Rangoon crossed Rangoon Road near Serangoon Road I found the bike shop. Roads begin and end with no signage and no logic. Then show up again same name different location. Crossing and recrossing my path several times didn't help much but the friendly people of Singapore did. So with the free bolt, nut and washer in my hand (thank you bike shop guy!) I walked over to the Temple of a Thousand Lights.
The lights weren't on but someone was definitely home...and that would be the Buddha; Almost 5 stories tall and 300 tons of Buddha. He was surrounded by hundreds of other Buddhas and smoking incence. At least the smoke in there smelled sweet and the cool marble floor felt good on my feet. A quiet calm amidst the grind of traffic I had just wrestled had restored my sense of well-being (thank you Buddha) as well as my appetite. I'm staying in "little India" and was happy to be having Indian food for my first meal in Asia. How to choose from the hundreds of hole in the wall places that all look the same? Randomly, of course. My favorite sign for the day was "Amma Mess" (say it out loud for full effect) but chose to eat somewhere else. A pile of rice was plopped down on a big piece of butcher paper next to a delicious blob of spinach. A small bowl of aromatic dahl soup and some subtle fried onion bread thing was also laid out in front of me and not a utensil in sight. Stoked to be eating local style I tried to remember with which hand to eat and for some reason my mind went blank. I knew it was specific and important "for hygienic reasons" and since I wipe my butt with my right hand (OK T.M.I. for sure, but I do use toilet paper!) I dug in with my left. The big smiles and looks I got from the few people who walked by warmed and encouraged me as I thought how this trip through Asia is going to be an amazing learning experience. If I just stay alert and be aware of... "excuse me" a voice interrupted, "but you should eat your food with your right hand". Next to me was an old Indian man with a wry smile and a right hand covered in rice and sauce. I was mortified, but instead of expaining to him my particular toileting techniques I inwardly laughed at my short lived self confidence not to mention my inexperience as we struck up a warm conversation of far away homes and loved ones.