Posted by Mark Silva at 6:10 am CST
SINGAPORE – President Bush got down on his suited knees on a red Oriental rug, picked up a sole hammer and started picking out a harmonic tune on the saron, an Asian xylophone, and then repeated it.
“Want to come to the United States?” the president asked one of the ten Javan musicians on his way out of the music hall at the Asian Civilization Museum here. “You will play to a receptive audience.”
Bush hopes to play to a receptive audience Thursday evening at the National University of Singapore, where the president promises to deliver a speech about his vision for U.S.-Asian relations which his national security adviser promises will not be “a poke in the eye.” The State Department is pleased with the president’s saron-playing, because video-clips of the performance are playing throughout the region — first contact with Bush on this voyage, embassy people are saying, and a good one.
President Bush, center, joins the children of the Bukit View Primary School who performed for him at the Asian Civilizations Museum in Singapore. Photo by Mark Silva. But much of the president’s first day in this island center of world trade, a booming, incredibly dense conglomeration of high-rises in a tropical setting, was spent in ceremony. He started with a morning visit to the museum and then paid a social call on the president and prime minister. He was staying at an oasis called the Shangri-La Hotel, his motorcade pulling out for brief journeys and returning to his sanctuary.
On a steamy, warm and partly sunny morning, the president left the lush, tropically planted Shangri-La for the museum, the route closed along the way to all but Bush’s motorcade.
Past the Raffles Secondary Girls’ School and past an endless series of hotels and apartment buildings and high-rise offices, none of which appeared to be more than five years old, the motorcade passed a panel-truck with a large sign on the side that read: “Dip Me in Chocolate and Call Me Dessert.”
It looks a little like the ritzier quarters of South Florida here, without the alligators.
At the museum, in a dimly lighted room with wood paneling and dark brown carpeting, an ensemble of ten musicians, eight women, two men, was seated on a red and blue motif oriental carpet in the middle of the room with various instruments before them. Some of the instruments resembled xylophones, though two were a collection of steel pots arrayed on low red and gold tables, all the instruments framed in red and gold.
The musicians who played for the president. Photo by Silva.
The president and first lady arrived, with Bush leading the way with Vivjan Balakrishan, minister of community development, and First Lady Laura Bush following with the minister’s wife, Joy. Fifth in the museum party: US Ambassador Patricia Herbold.
A captive audience. Photo by Silva
After the orchestra played a few numbers, Bush walked over to shake their hands.
“Thank you all,” Bush said. “Good job,” he told one. “I loved it, thank you, it was great.”
Then, accepting their smiling entreaties, Bush gave it a try. He got down on his knees in front of one of the xylophones, picked up one hammer and played a recurring theme that sounded practiced. It actually had a pattern to it. He smiled proudly at the pool reporters watching, including yours truly.
.We were led to a large, high-ceilinged hall of two stories, with a dark wood floor and flat pillars around the pale walls. A troupe of schoolchildren from the Bukit View Primary School in colorful costumes awaited us. There was a low blue stage by one wall, with a large mural of the museum: Asian Civilizations Museum Singapore: “where Asian cultures come alive.”
Girls in purple and green gowns raised peacock feathers, and boys and girls in light blue shorts and shirts raised chairs. The president and first lady and hosts arrived, preceded in the room by Dan Bartlett, the president’s counselor, Steve Hadley, national security adviser, Tony Snow, press secretary, and Susan Whitson, the first lady’s press secretary.
Bells chimed, and the kids took to the stage, dancing to piped in music and singing. They sat on the chairs, moved the chairs, waved the peacock feathers. The girls with the feathers stole the show, dancing in unison to the music. There were eight of them.
The president’s head nodded in rhythm as he watched the girls and then more dancers, boys and girls in pairs dancing to music that had a Mexican air to it, their footwork evocative of square dancing. Bush’s noggin was ‘a noddin’ after a few more dances, ending with the fifth, a finale with all the kids on stage.
As we were led out of the museum and down a flight of stairs we encountered a unit of killer ninjas, several heavily armed men in black, with black ski masks covering most of their faces, seated on a few steps. We bid them a nice, “Hello.” No response. We trusted they were on our side.
The motorcade rolled from the museum, returning to the Shangri-La along the same route. Along the way, we passed a Bojangles Cafe and Bar, a 7-Eleven and a “slimming parlor.”
