Holland Village (Singapore)

The stamps dispensed by the Singapore Post machine next door are printed on demand, and they’re dull—which is a pity because Singapore has such lovely stamps. Whenever I send a postcard, I want to use the pretty ones.

I take the bus to Holland Village, which is neither a village nor has anything to do with Holland. I came here in the 1990s. Then it was a hangout for students during the day. At night, people partied outside the bars. It’s quiet now, and most things are new and shiny. There was a DVD shop, some game shops, and cheap eateries. I lived here briefly in the mid 2000s and later around 2010. There was a little alley at the back with an ice cream shop where I sometimes hid or took friends to. That part did feel like a village. These days, sharp people come for posh coffee or fancier ice cream.

The old shopping centre is a rare standout. On the second floor, there’s a lady who sells real, colorful stamps. If you linger a little longer, she’ll tell you a story about Singapore from her 50-odd years of work experience. Maybe I come for her stories as much as the stamps.

Eventually, I bought the stamps. I also bought two postcards from the shop next door. They depict the bright old buildings of Katong. One will go to Canada and one to Japan. Both places could use a little tropical hot.

I concur with Kurt Vonnegut’s justification for a similar stamp-buying trip in A Man Without a Country:

I tell you, we are here on Earth to fart around, and don’t let anybody tell you different.