May 2025

Two surf session today. This morning at rock island had nice right handed waves. I am working on being more aggressive after pop up to get speed and go right into the pocket of the wave. I like the technicalities of surfing. Today I really improved my searching for waves and picking which one to take. I have really been improving. 5 hours out on the surf board flies by. It is important to check which tide you are surfing at. If the tide is going out you need to make sure you do not get taken out to the sea and paddle back to shore in time. The tides of the ocean are a cool phenomena. The ocean tides are primarily caused by the gravitational pull of the moon. Humans are 60% water content. Somehow most people do not believe the moon and its phases have a great effect on the human psyche and experience. Kabbalah and Ayurveda support this, check it out. One thing aI have been thinking about recently are there are three types of people: religious supremacist, one love Rastas, and stupid people who just don't think deeply. Most religions believe theirs is the best and supreme. I want to try avoid this form of religious supremacy. When you recognize the oneness of all things flowing through everything with infinite love, it makes no sense that a religion could be better than another. Everything is one! Ok last thing I have been wanting to say for a while. Philippines is my least favorite country on my travels. That is not to say I do not enjoy my time here. I am still glad I came. The best thing about the Philippines is for sure the aquatic life. However the Philippines lacks culture, it's expensive, and there is nothing super unique. You get way better beaches in culture in Central America, and SE Asia. Also Filipino people here are quite stupid on average. Even though I am filled with ho ho ho compassion it is annoying sometimes.

Today was one of the dopest days ever. I woke up at 4 AM in Cebu to catch a flight to Siargao, the surfing capital of the Philippines. Technically, it's the low season here—both for tourism and for waves—so I wasn't even sure there'd be anything to ride. I landed in Siargao around 7 AM to a gray, rainy sky. After grabbing a flat white coffee, I booked a nice place on Agoda. Honestly, Agoda is by far the best app to book places—highly recommend it. Or just book in person. As you know, I only book things day-of now. It's more spontaneous and fun. While walking around, a guy stopped me to rent a motorbike. In Asia, you need one everywhere—it's cheaper and cooler. I thought I was done after my month of riding in Vietnam, but pretty much every place in the Philippines has required one. Since I'll be in Siargao for 10 days, I asked for a good price. I've noticed most things like motorbikes or tours here are pretty standardized—you won't find wild bargaining like you might in other parts of Southeast Asia. We agreed on a price, and I asked for the bike to have a surf rack. Then I dropped off my luggage at the accommodation—it was a little hard to find, and the room wasn't ready, so I left my bags and hit the road to explore the town. Right away, I felt the vibe: surf shops, vibey cafés, yoga studios, and cool restaurants lining the main street. This was my kind of place. Rachel and I stopped into our first surf shop and asked about board rentals—₱400 a day. Next, we went to a surf school to compare. When we got there, we talked to a guy named Yung, and he said they were heading to a break by boat in 10 minutes. I wasn't even wearing a bathing suit. But this is exactly why I came—to be spontaneous. Rachel and I ran back to grab our stuff and headed straight back. The surf school was called Marco Surf. Now's a good time to give some context. I've only been on a surfboard three times in my life. I grew up skimboarding, snowboarding, and flowriding, so I have a feel for board sports—but actual surfing has been humbling. Spring 2022: Surfed in Costa Rica with Ron—got wrecked by the current, barely caught a wave. Summer 2022: Tried in Costa da Caparica, Portugal with Kaleb—bad conditions, no luck. September 2023: Surfed in Tel Aviv with Zach—same story, failed. Basically, I'd never actually stood up on a board properly. So I was a little nervous. We took a boat out to a reef break called Stumpy's, about 1 km from shore. I hopped in the water and Yung gave me a few tips—his English wasn't great. The waves were pretty big, but for the first time, I felt calm. I ended up catching two solid waves. Huge win. More than that, I finally felt comfortable in the water and confident. This was my first real surfing success—especially after a 4 AM wake-up. I forgot how tiring surfing is. Your heart rate spikes, your arms get shredded paddling for hours. We surfed for two hours. Honestly, Yung turned out to be a pretty bad coach. After surfing, I crushed a coconut and poke bowl. Rachel and I decided to look for a better coach for tomorrow. I found a place with good reviews on Google Maps. On the beach, there are dozens of shacks with boards and instructors. While walking to the Google spot, a guy stopped us and asked if we wanted to surf. He was heading out in 5 minutes. I was dead tired—two hours in the water already, 4 AM start—but something told me to go again. I talked with the instructor, Chico. He spoke great English and had good energy, so I agreed. We took a boat out to a different reef break called Cemetery. We surfed for three hours, and Chico gave me some excellent feedback. The first wave I caught was the best of my life. I finally understood what it means to actually ride. I caught speed, stayed on, rode it out. These waves were big—almost 2 meters high—and they broke left and right. I was getting more confident and learning fast. Here are a few tips I learned: Leash goes on the outside ankle Paddle out straight When catching a wave, paddle hard and kick your feet together Keep paddling until the board picks up speed Pop up fast, turn your shoulder, and look down the wave Stay loose—not stiff I was riding a 6'2", 42-liter board. I liked how squirrelly it felt—reminded me of flowboarding. This session taught me a few things. I've always been tight and stretch often, but I need to stretch more seriously—maybe an hour a day. I'm already a meditative guy, but I can be even more focused. After three hours, with the sun finally shining, I was completely gassed. My chest was raw from the board, my neck and shoulders were cooked. I could barely paddle. This might've been one of the most tired moments of my life. 4 AM wake-up. Two sessions. Five hours in the water. What a day. I hope I sleep like a rock tonight—because I need to surf tomorrow.

I'm sitting in a coffee shop in Puerto Princesa, waiting for my flight to Siargao via Cebu. Yesterday was a great day in Port Barton. Rachel and I rented a kayak and spent the entire day exploring beautiful, secluded beaches. It was incredibly relaxing and fun. Traveling with Rachel has been amazing — I've done things I wouldn't typically do alone. During our kayaking adventure, I spotted a huge blue jellyfish — one of the craziest animals I've ever seen in real life. It was likely a box jellyfish, known for their cube-shaped, translucent blue bells and long tentacles. They're extremely venomous. Seeing wild animals like that in their natural habitat really makes you feel like Hashem is right there in front of your eyes. I really liked Port Barton, even though it was just a one-day stopover. It's a great backpacker spot — not overcrowded or overrun like some other places in the Philippines. That night, I had two meaningful calls with dear friends. First, I spoke with Ron about our evolving egos. It's so cool — when you're developing a new self, you get to meet your friends all over again for the first time. I told him that life often feels like a one-player game — we're ultimately on our own. No matter how secure you might feel with family or work, this journey is yours alone. Ron suggested that this changes when you marry — when two become one in a sacred union. I agreed. We talked about love — how real love, built through shared experiences, is something deeply sacred and beautiful. I shared some of my internal monologue, and we both got emotional. I wished him much love and happiness on his upcoming trip to Israel with his family. Later that evening, I spoke with Count Katz — Qmanj — Zachary Aaron Katz. I asked him about his reintegration back home, and he offered some powerful insights and advice. We both want to build an international adventure capitalist lifestyle — the most awesome version of life we can imagine. He mentioned how our long-term backpacking trips — nearly a year of frolicking around the world — aren't sustainable. I've really started to understand that now, as my funds run low. The only reason I've been able to take this incredible trip is because of the hard, intellectual work I put in during the first 22 years of my life — through school, and 2.5 years of work. It feels right to say thank you for this experience and now continue onwards and upwards. We talked about everything we've learned, and how when you return home, there are so many external forces — obligations, expectations — pulling at you. That's why I want to use the next couple of months, the remainder of this trip, to cement new habits and identities. I want to draw lines in the sand so that when I go home, I can stand firm as those forces start tugging again. I'm ready to reignite my intellectual curiosity — and I'm excited to see how that unfolds. Count Katz also said something that stuck with me: it's relatively easy to make money. But making money the right way — doing something you care about, something meaningful — that's the hard part. Part of the reason we both quit our jobs was to explore where in the world we could live a healthy, connected-with-nature, beautiful life. I haven't found that place yet, but Zach shared some that he sees as possibilities: Hawaii, Bali, Israel, Costa Rica. I haven't been to Hawaii or Bali yet, but I plan to visit both soon. All of those places seem to have what I'm looking for: beautiful nature and beaches, rich culture and community, healthy local food, and walkability. Anyway, I'm still waiting on this flight. Looking forward to a week in Siargao to cap off my time in the Philippines before heading to Indonesia.

8 months, folks! It's been 8 months on my trip around the world—living out of a backpack, adventuring, and just being. I've been having a lot of thoughts lately, so let's go for an old-fashioned stream-of-consciousness post! Buckle up—I think this one's going to be a wild ride. Last night was my final night in El Nido, and I arrived in Port Barton this afternoon. El Nido is known as a party town, but since I'm retired from partying, I didn't indulge. That said, I did have two glasses of sangria and a piña colada—my first alcoholic drinks in a long time—and honestly, it got me a little tipsy. And while tipsy, I started having some existential thoughts—about mortality, family, and this whole journey. I don't remember alcohol ever triggering existential thoughts before! It was a weird phenomenon. Anyway, even though I drank casually, it reaffirmed my general disdain for alcohol and the whole party-vulture scene. This morning, I went ziplining between two islands. It cost just 600 pesos (about 12 dollars). That would've been over 100 bucks in the U.S. or Europe. I made a few jokes with the lady at the zipline desk and started thinking about how important playfulness is. The essence of creation is playful. We should all be playful in every aspect of life—especially work. Be childish, be silly, even as you grow older. Everyone's too serious and ends up sucking the joy out of the disco that is life! I'm a pretty playful guy. Even back when I worked at TI, I'd find ways to bring that playful energy into everything. As I think more about how I'll make money in the future, I know for sure that the playfulness is coming with me—and staying with me for life. I took a 4-hour bus down to Port Barton today. Checked my bank account at Chase and noticed my money dwindling. My net worth is only going down! I saw some annoying fees for not keeping a minimum balance. Honestly, that ticked me off a bit. I was already annoyed with Chase earlier in the trip when I was doing wire transfers to purchase the Georgia apartment. So—Chase gave me enough reasons to be fed up, and I finally canceled my account. I opened a Schwab checking account instead. Highly recommend for travelers: they reimburse foreign ATM fees and don't have a minimum balance requirement. As I watched my money slowly dwindle (in the name of this amazing adventure), I started weighing how much more I can or should spend. I want to balance a little more adventure with being a financially responsible adult. But I also don't have to squeeze every single adventure into this one year. This is a lifelong adventure. That's been a hard thing to come to terms with—because honestly, I don't want this trip to end. But I keep reminding myself: this isn't the end, it's just the beginning. Sometimes I get worked up thinking about what I'll do next—and that pulls me away from the whole point of this journey in the first place. So I'm choosing patience. Choosing to enjoy the moment. Who knows? I might be home in 2 months, 3 months, 1 year… or two.

Yesterday night I talked with my very dear and close friend Rabbi Mendy Plotkin. We gave each other much-needed life updates and reflections. He asked me if I have thought about what comes next after this trip. As I have mentioned, I am beginning to steer my ship back to shore, which is a bittersweet feeling. I am not lost in the middle of the sea anymore and need to plan my return. I told Mendy that what helps me plan my next steps is starting with what I will not be doing. I will not be moving to a new American city. I will not be working an in-person job in the US. With those two stipulations, it narrows the question much more. I think about a remote, asynchronous job, freelancing, or doing an awesome business with my friends — that would be cool. At the end of the day, it's all part of the Surrender Experiment, and I'm not really stressed about it. While conveying these ideas to Mendy, I realized a theme: I do not want more material possessions. I enjoy living out of a backpack. This realization helped me understand myself more deeply. I love the flexibility of having all my belongings on my back. I love the simplicity. You don't waste time choosing what shirt to wear or what shoes match. You don't care much how your hair looks or if your colors coordinate. I love being able to stay nimble in this ever-changing world — intellectually and physically. The thought of buying a new TV, a car, or an apartment literally repulses me. The idea of living in a big urban city with noise pollution, homelessness, fast food, and gross billboards everywhere is haunting. When I think these thoughts, I realize I'm not that excited to return home. I love the adventure. I love the nomadic lifestyle. However, I know and understand this is a crucial step in the hero's journey — to continue to develop all of my intellectual, emotional, and spiritual faculties, and put them into practice.

After an unforgettable three-day, two-night boat expedition from Coron, I've finally arrived in El Nido. The journey — organized through Keelooma — was nothing short of magical and one of the most memorable experiences I've had in the Philippines so far. Being completely disconnected from the outside world, swimming for hours in crystal-clear blue water, and feasting on fresh fish and tropical fruits every day — it made me feel truly alive. There were 18 of us on the expedition, and I lucked out with an amazing group. We had people from all over: Brazil, Argentina, Spain, France, the UK, Canada, the Netherlands… and me, the token American! The crew and our expedition leader were incredibly warm and welcoming, which made the experience even better. My favorite part of the trip? Snorkeling in pristine waters and exploring vibrant underwater ecosystems. The marine life was stunning — and the Moorish idol (yep, the same fish from Finding Nemo) quickly became my favorite. That's about it for now! I've got two more weeks left in the Philippines, split between Palawan and Siargao. Looking forward to a whole lot of surfing, workouts, relaxing, and soaking up the sun.

Well, I do not have much to write about — I think that is a good thing. I am feeling great and energized. I have been working out hard, eating less meat and lots of fresh fruits, and being more present. I was on the island of Bohol for three days and two nights, where I did some paddle boarding and spent time on a nice beach. Today, I rode a motorbike, car, ferry, and plane to arrive in Coron, Palawan. In a couple of days, I will embark on a three-day, two-night boat expedition from Coron to El Nido, visiting remote islands and disconnecting even more. Tomorrow, I will do some island hopping and enjoy the beautiful landscapes here.

Well, it was a great couple of days on the healing island of Siquijor. Coming into the Philippines, I was almost down for the count—exhausted and lacking the energy or chutzpah to continue traveling. But after some solid time relaxing, working out, disconnecting, and taking things slow, I'm back, baby! Siquijor is a beautiful island filled with lush jungles, clear waters, scenic cliffs, and a few beaches. I'm a bit of a beach snob—growing up in Florida and having seen many stunning places around the world, I have to admit the beaches here in the Philippines haven't really impressed me yet. But hopefully, as I head toward Palawan, which is known for having the best beaches in the country, I'll be mesmerized. And if not, that's okay too! While riding the motorbike around the island, I let my mind wander and found myself reflecting. One thing that came up was how much I love teaching. In high school, I tutored math multiple times a week, coached the math team, and helped friends with science. I really love the idea of sharing my knowledge and skills to help others. It got me thinking about what I can teach moving forward in life. Whether it's mathematics, flowriding, surfing, snowboarding, or yoga—I want to keep the teaching spirit alive. I also think that having a teachable skill you can offer anywhere in the world, in exchange for a bit of money, is a great way to stay afloat in uncertain times. The idea of teaching—whether it's sharing intellect, physical skill, or spiritual experience—spurred another thought. I've really enjoyed the hippie backpacker lifestyle and could see myself teaching at surf camps or becoming a yoga instructor. But is that really the reason I was put on this Earth? I think my greatest gift—my standout skill—is my intellect. Yes, I'm grateful for my healthy body and my spiritual growth, but I've always excelled in math and science. Pursuing a career that leverages intellect is typically more financially rewarding than one based solely on physicality or spirituality. Then again, during this trip, I've come to deeply appreciate the simple, grounded lifestyle—doing something you love, moving your body, and not obsessing over how much money you make. The tension between chasing a career rooted in intellect and wealth versus embracing a simple, natural, and healthy life is a lifelong dance. I'm excited to navigate that dance, and I feel like I'm beginning to understand the rhythm and how to manage the balance.

Motorbike from Moalboal to the bus station, bus to the port near Cebu, tuk-tuk to the port itself, ferry to Dumaguete, tuk-tuk to the port near Dumaguete, ferry to Siquijor, and motorbike to my accommodation in Siquijor. A long travel day, but all things considered, it was smooth, painless, and cheap. I'm on a new island now—Siquijor—and I'm looking forward to adventuring around it! Yesterday, I went canyoneering in Kawasan Falls, which was one of the coolest experiences of my entire trip. I hiked, swam, and jumped through the canyon. The nature was stunning, the water was turquoise blue, and the guides were energetic and fun. This morning, as I was leaving my accommodation in Moalboal, I met the property owner, Charles—a 50-something-year-old guy from New York. He's dating a Filipina woman, who I'd guess is in her early 30s and runs the property. They were both incredibly sweet and went above and beyond to make my stay enjoyable. Charles bought the property in March and has big plans to expand it. He told me he wants to buy three neighboring properties and build pickleball courts. It's cool to see an American adventure capitalist on the ground. He was very down-to-earth and kind. Back in the U.S., where he still spends most of his time, he runs a foreclosure business—buying homes at auction and flipping them. I told him I'm interested in international business and would love to learn from him. He mentioned that in Rochester, NY, three-bedroom, two-bath homes go for under $100k and are solid investments. Foreclosure investments seem like a great business model—definitely something I'll remember. In the Philippines, he paid for his property in cash and then refinanced, a common technique for large investments to maximize value and deals. Talking with Charles and his girlfriend made me reflect on the wide variety of relationships that exist in the world. To a Western mind, their relationship—an older, wealthy American with a younger Filipina partner—might seem unusual. But it seems mutually beneficial. As you get older, I think the nature of relationships evolves. Charles gains a caring and capable business partner, while his girlfriend gains financial stability. As long as it's a fair exchange, I don't see a problem with these kinds of relationships—especially in developing countries where financial opportunity can be life-changing. Thinking about their relationship got me reflecting more deeply on love, marriage, and connection. I believe that relationships—especially marriage—should be shared with someone who enhances your life, your experiences, and yourself. Sadly, many relationships, particularly in the West, lack this foundation, and people end up miserable. While I've loved traveling solo and thrive as a lone wolf, I've come to appreciate the power of sharing experiences with others. It really can elevate everything about your journey. I'm excited to explore more of Siquijor!

Okay, enough of the history recap—let's get real. I'm going to take you on a journey through the current state of my internal dialogue. Ever since I hit a dog and crashed my bike, I've felt exhausted. It's true: when your body is healing, the immune system is active—sending cells to repair tissue and prevent infection—which uses up a lot of energy. Inflammation releases chemicals like cytokines, which can make you feel fatigued or sluggish. Tissue regeneration and rebuilding require increased protein synthesis and cell activity, which also draw on your body's resources. I hate feeling exhausted and tired. Being energized, I've realized, is one of the most important things you can do for yourself as a human. If you're not energized, you can't give to others, crack jokes, or train your mind and body. I'm incredibly grateful that quitting my job and leaving the U.S. for 7.5 months gave me the space to figure out what truly energizes me. The bike accident made me double down on its importance. One of the biggest factors that keeps me energized is sunlight. I like places with temperate, sunny climates. They make me feel more active and more connected to my surroundings. I've learned I'm not a city person—I prefer the seclusion of nature and smaller villages. I've realized the value of eating fresh fruits and local foods. Lactose and gluten make me feel sluggish, while fish makes me feel the most alive and energized. Of course, you don't have to quit your job and travel the world to figure all this out. But when you do, you gain the freedom and time to experiment and observe what works for you. Working out in the morning and doing challenging things keeps me energized—especially through sports. So now we understand the importance of staying energized throughout the day. As I've said before, this trip is a hero's journey. There's a rising action, a climax, and a falling action. I liken it to setting sail on an expedition in the 16th century, searching for unknown lands. The first three months were about unraveling my old self and letting go of the corporate life and values I'd built around myself. The next three months, I got lost in the middle of the deep blue sea—doing some of the most adventurous things I never imagined I'd do. I hunted with a tribe in Africa, where I bit a bird's neck. I trekked through the Himalayas for a week and a half. I volunteered on a farm in Laos. I rode a motorbike halfway through Vietnam. These crazy adventures are incredibly rewarding—but also incredibly exhausting. After the 4,000+ km bike ride through Vietnam, staying in wild homestays with local indigenous people and eating whatever was offered, I now feel my ship slowly steering toward shore. The accident—and the forced slowdown—made me reflect on what I want out of the rest of this trip. I've had so many wild experiences already. What's next? Now, I want to incorporate the habits that will keep me energized long-term—before I return home to all the external forces that push and pull you in every direction. That means working out, eating cleaner, reading, writing, reigniting my intellect, and using my phone less. These micro-habits need to be cemented in the next couple of months. In the Philippines, I plan to chill hard—but maybe I'll still find the energy for one more adventure. I really want to learn how to surf. I'd also love to practice Spanish in a foreign country. I've come to realize: this adventure is never going to leave me. I don't see myself returning to America to work an in-person job ever again (hopefully—unless I'm forced to). I want to continue creating an international lifestyle. Now, for the first time in human history, you can make a living and earn money from a laptop. That gives you ultimate freedom and flexibility to live anywhere you want. I don't want to plan too far ahead. I want to preserve spontaneity. I think the best approach is to point your ship in a direction and see where the waves take you—rather than trying to force a specific course. After all, the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.

After a successful 36 hours in Singapore, it's back to the developing world. I arrived in Cebu, Philippines early this morning and slept the whole way on the direct flight from Singapore. Before diving into what's in store here in the Philippines, here are a few takeaways from my time in Singapore. Based on first impressions, I thought I was really going to like it. But in the end, it felt kind of bland. The city lacked energy. It's a uniquely chill and efficient place to live, but it doesn't really ignite anything in you. Between the two small, futuristic city-states, I'd take Dubai over Singapore. Dubai has more vibrancy, more ambition, and just feels more alive. Singapore markets itself with bold claims about wild architecture and sustainability—some of that is there, but it wasn't as striking or overwhelming as I expected. Now onto the Philippines—this place is wildly different. The Philippines is a country of over 7,000 islands, with deep Spanish roots that continue to shape its culture today. One of the most noticeable influences is religion: the Philippines is the most predominantly Christian country in Asia. Around 79% of the population identifies as Roman Catholic, a direct legacy of Spanish colonial rule. Spanish influence began in 1521 when Portuguese explorer Ferdinand Magellan—sailing under the Spanish crown—arrived in the Philippines. His arrival marked the beginning of European interest in the islands. Magellan was killed shortly after landing, during the Battle of Mactan, right here in Cebu, by the local chieftain Lapu-Lapu, who is now celebrated as a national hero. Despite Magellan's death, Spain returned and successfully colonized the archipelago in the late 1500s. Spanish rule lasted for over 300 years, until 1898, when the U.S. took control following the Spanish-American War. That long colonial period left a deep imprint on everything—from town names and food to language and religion. Catholic festivals, Spanish surnames, and colonial churches are everywhere. Even today, walking around parts of the Philippines can feel like stepping into a hybrid of Latin American and Southeast Asian culture.

Travel day to Singapore! I arrived in Singapore this afternoon safely and smoothly. Let's recap the history and current state of the rich city-state before my two-night exploration here! Once a humble Malay fishing village known as Temasek, Singapore's transformation began in 1819 when Sir Stamford Raffles of the British East India Company established it as a strategic free port, quickly turning the island into a vital hub for global trade. Through the 19th and early 20th centuries, it flourished under British colonial rule until it faced Japanese occupation during World War II, a traumatic chapter that lasted from 1942 to 1945. After the war, Singapore moved toward self-governance in 1959 and briefly joined Malaysia in 1963, only to be expelled two years later, forcing the fledgling nation into sudden independence in 1965. What followed was one of the most remarkable development stories of the modern world: under the leadership of Lee Kuan Yew, Singapore built a highly efficient, corruption-free government, emphasized education and urban planning, and opened its doors to foreign investment, becoming a global powerhouse in finance, technology, and shipping despite having almost no natural resources. Today, Singapore is a tightly woven fabric of cultures, shaped by its rich ethnic mosaic made up of roughly 75% Chinese, 15% Malay, 7% Indian, and a remaining 3% comprising Eurasians and other minority groups. This diversity is reflected in everything from its cuisine and architecture to its festivals and neighborhoods, with English as the main working language alongside widespread use of Mandarin, Malay, Tamil, and the colorful local slang known as Singlish. After the flight I took the clean and efficient public transport about 30 minutes to my hostel in Little India. The crazy thing about Singapore is how expensive it is—hostel beds in an 18-person dorm room are over 40 dollars a night! This high cost of living is part of Singapore's broader economic story: despite its small size and lack of natural resources, it has become one of the world's richest countries thanks to strategic planning, pro-business policies, and an emphasis on global trade and finance. Its GDP stands at over $500 billion USD, with a GDP per capita of around $85,000, making it one of the wealthiest nations globally. Singapore's key exports include electronics, pharmaceuticals, petroleum products, and financial services, and it's home to one of the busiest ports and airports in the world. My first impressions of Singapore are overwhelmingly positive—it's instantly likable and captivating. The country is a fascinating fusion of some of my favorite cultural influences—Asian and Indian—wrapped in a sleek, ultra-modern, and first-world presentation. It is immaculately clean, feels incredibly safe, and signs warning of hefty fines for everything from littering to fighting are posted everywhere, reinforcing its reputation for strict order. In Little India, the streets pulse with life: rows of electronic shops, barbershops, clothing stalls, and clusters of young men chatting in Tamil give the area the feel of southern India transplanted into the heart of Southeast Asia. One thing I realized is that for a country to succeed, it must find a way to attract and retain global capital—both the wealthy and the financial institutions that support them. Singapore is a masterclass in this strategy: its low corporate tax rates (around 17%), lack of capital gains tax, robust legal protections, political stability, and streamlined regulations have made it a magnet for multinational banks, investment firms, and high-net-worth individuals. This is a model that countries like Vietnam—despite their growing economic momentum—should look to emulate if they want to elevate themselves further on the world stage. After settling in, I looked up the famous hawker center in Little India for cheap, authentic Indian food. I had really good mutton biryani—tender, spicy, and deeply flavorful. Hawker centers are a uniquely Singaporean institution: open-air food courts packed with individual vendors, or "hawkers," who specialize in just one or two dishes perfected over years or even generations. They're an affordable, communal way for locals and tourists alike to enjoy the city's multicultural cuisine, and many stalls have even earned Michelin recognition. After a satisfying dinner, I walked back to the hostel to get a good night's rest before a long and action-packed day tomorrow.