Chris et al,
I hate to say this, but only a few hours before Tito was unfortunately delayed, I checked out of my hotel in SIngapore, walked across the street to the spotlessly clean, shiny and new MRT station, and took the subway right to the airline terminal. Everything worked flawlessly and was on time.
As I passed through Immigrations, the officer made an abrupt hand gesture and said "Please!". Having become accustomed to the gruff, brash demeanor of U.S. Immigrations and Customs officials, I assumed that I had violated some pedantic rule, and stepped back, trying to appease him. He looked up, baffled, and again gestured and said "Please!". I showed a confused look to convey that I didn’t understand what I did wrong. He reached over and physically moved the candy dish closer to me, and again said "Please!", which I finally interpreted correctly to mean "Please [help yourself to a piece of candy because we want you to feel welcome while I process your paperwork!]". I accepted the gesture of kindness and he gave me back my passport, visibly confused by my first reaction.
Next I flew (face mask and all) on Singapore Airlines to Hong Kong, where customs and immigrations officials were similarly polite. Directly from the baggage claim hall I boarded the "Airport Express" train to downtown Hong Kong. I’m not sure whether this was a "mag lift" train or not, but it was remarkably quiet, smooth, and fast. Digital displays kept me apprised of the progress of the journey, and 24 minutes later I disembarked at Central Station, Hong Kong Island.
From there I made an easy connection to Hong Kong’s state of the art MRT system, and rode the subway to a station only steps away from my hotel. Total cost of the journey from airport to hotel, about U.S. $11. Everything was modern, shiny and new, and in flawless working condition. All public transit payments were made with state of the art cash cards, eliminating the need for currency.
Oddly enough, the whole experience was extremely emotional and quite sad. I kept recalling my first trips to Europe in the early '80s, when I was dumbfounded by store clerks working up sales receipts by hand, perhaps with the aid of a calculator. What? No electronic cash register? How antequated it all seemed. In those days, you couldn’t help but be proud of being American. We were the world’s top dogs, and it was obvious. The rest of the world was trying to keep up, but failing. We were the undisputed technological leaders, and everyone knew it. In those days, Americans had to remember not to boast too much about how advanced things were in our society, because it was considered rude to flaunt our obvious technological superiority.
Here in Asia, I am dumbfounded every day by how far behind we are. You can pay for just about everything with your cellphone or a high-tech electronic cash card here. There is little reason to even carry bank notes. The public transit systems work flawlessly, and the trains come every 2 to 3 minutes, even into the wee hours of the morning. Contrast with New York or San Francisco, where the train or bus comes when it comes, if it comes, if you’re lucky.
Everything here is shiny and new. Most elevators are finished in polished stainless steel, which is brought out to a full mirror finish. I haven’t seen that in the USA since the early 80’s. Most of the bright-finished stainless steel in the USA has been "roughed up" intentionally by maintenance crews, because scratched-up stainless steel isn’t as susceptible to vandalism as the brightly polished stuff.
I have to confess that this trip is really affecting me emotionally. 25 years ago, when I traveled internationally I knew I was from the best nation on earth, and I felt damned proud of that fact. I read this blog post from Chris just after arriving back at my hotel at 1am, after a flawless late-night journey on a very comfortable, very modern, very quiet and very reliable MTR train.
What the hell happened to America? I liked it better when we were the top dogs…
Erik