I know many people out there don’t like durians, but I do. I don’t care if my breath stinks or that I keep burping awful smells after eating them. I can’t understand how people can describe it as tasting like puke, or smelling like rotten food. Somehow my brain and taste buds have been wired to think otherwise.
And so with that, I find a certain glee and an element of fun in sitting on ugly stools and similarly ugly and un-sturdy tables along the seedy streets of Geylang (Singapore’s red light district), chomping away at durians.
Mind you, some of these roadside stalls even put tissue boxes on the tables and have water coolers and plastic cups for you to help yourself to. There is a huge plastic basket beside each table where you will find empty durian shells, durian seeds which have been licked clean of their pulp and crushed tissue paper all thrown in.
Going to Geylang at the weekend, however, is a nightmare. The place is teeming with foreign workers (blue-collar workers from China and India going there to buy cheap toiletries, phone cards, etc) and prostitutes plying their trade. Neon-lighted signs bear the name of brothels, sleaze clubs and coffee shops where many sleazy ‘Ah Peks’ sit around drinking beer and leering at women. Driving along the streets of Geylang is hazardous as there is always a danger of running someone over, what with all the foreign workers giving no regard to traffic rules and turning a blind eye to the existence of traffic crossings. They rule the roads and us drivers have to comply with THEIR rules by slowing down our cars in an attempt to not knock any one of them down while they weave in and out of traffic in imaginary pedestrian crossings which they had conjured up. Parking is another nightmare as there are very few legal carpark lots. So nevermind, break the law and park illegally somewhere along some ‘Lorong’ (small lane) and head to the durian stalls!
OK, it’s nightmarish driving to Geylang, but I accept that that is part of the experience of heading there. Without that, Geylang wouldn’t be Geylang. You almost don’t feel like you’re in otherwise squeaky clean Singapore when you’re there.
So anyway, there I am with my cousins, sis, mum, aunt and uncle, sitting around a small table, tucking into two Super D-24 durians. I love the act of tossing the seeds and empty shells into the basket. It’s almost like playing durian basketball. Haha. Except if you miss, it’d mean you’re really shit at aiming. Eating durians at roadside stalls in Geylang is truly one of those really Singapore experiences one could offer to a tourist. It doesn’t get any more local than that!