IT was about 5:30pm in the MRT City Hall in Singapore. Holding a large black umbrella open, my friend Jacklynn and I forced ourselves out into the crowds inside the mall, heading towards our next stop. I could feel people gazing at us when walking by, and hear them whispering to each other, "What are they doing with an umbrella open indoors?"

The headphones that hooked up to an MP3 player attached on the umbrella were playing some ambient noise imitating the streams of people and traffic during peak times. I tried hard to focus on the directions from the headphones and looked around tentatively for yellow umbrella signs providing navigation for our tour. All I hoped was that my face wouldn't appear on some Singaporean newspaper or Twitter.

It didn't. And I guess if you've taken a walk around the Esplanade Park and Marina Square in Singapore recently, you'll have seen, from time to time, pairs of people wandering around - indoors and outdoors - with headphones and an open umbrella.

The audio tour, named "Umbrella for 2," offer participants a chance to explore the country a little bit and have a better idea of its customs and culture and the efforts it is making in social development and environmental protection.

It is one of 66 free events during the 16-day Singapore Arts Festival, which is mainly staged in the Esplanade Park through June 2. Tickets are required for another 14 shows.

Themed "Our Lost Poems," this year's festival fills in the last piece of a trilogy puzzle that started two years ago, says Low Kee Hong, general manager of the festival.

Putting the three themes together, we get: "Between You and Me" (2010), "I Want to Remember" (2011) "Our Lost Poems" (2012).

"Lost poems, literally mi shi in Chinese, sounds similar to the word myth," Low explains. "This year's festival looks at myths, legends and tales that are told generation after generation. We want to excavate important things from our history and make people think."

I won't say much about the tour so as not to spoil your adventure if you're heading there, but here's a little heads-up: be patient because the audio tracks may be lengthy; and look around for the signs because they're easy to miss, even locals take wrong turnings.

One of the highlights this year is an exhibition by Singaporean artist Choy Ka Fai. "Lan Fang Chronicles 2012" traces the history of a Hakka community, the Lan Fang Republic (1777-1884) in West Borneo. The Hakka are the fourth-largest Chinese-dialect group in Singapore, with former Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew one of the clan.

Other fun open-air shows also provide an interesting perspective of the social and cultural developments of the country. In front of the Lim Bo Sheng Memorial sits a ring where 12 contenders, people dressed to represent events or areas in the city "fight" with the Merlion - the mythical creature said to embody Singapore - to be crowned the ultimate national icon.

Contenders include the Esplanade (the national theater), the Hungry Ghost Festival Getai (a gala of traditional performances held during the Ghost Festival in Singapore every August) and Geylang, a neighborhood where brothels and many restaurants are located.

People are encouraged to vote for their national icon.

I do suggest first-time visitors - like me - stop by the ring for a while. But it's a good idea to bring a local friend to help with explanations. There's almost certainly a rich story behind every contender and this may give you a good opportunity to sink your teeth into the diverse culture of this island country.

Going through the festival schedule, I was surprised to find only a small number of traditional art forms, such as opera, drama and exhibitions, as international art festivals in Shanghai always feature large-scale concerts by world-class performers.

Instead, the Singapore Arts Festival focuses on the participation of local communities, with eight community shows staged by amateurs in the Esplanade Park.

Low says he did so to break with stereotypes of art and "get people to jump on board."

His decision was also prompted by the fact that around 90 artistic events were held every day last year in Singapore - a transformation from the in 1970s and 1980s when detractors described it as "a cultural desert."

"There are plenty of big shows out there and I have no reason to repeat what they've done, instead I want to give audiences some alternatives," Low explains.

When night fell and an evening breeze finally took away some of the smothering heat, a hilarious dancing show got under way in Bridge Café under the Esplanade Bridge. About 20 elderly Singaporean men, aged between 67 and 83 years old, all dressed as waiters, danced awkwardly to the music while serving customers.

Created by Japanese choreographer and dancer Kim Itoh, the show originated from a similar project, "Oyaji Cafe," Itoh held in Tokyo three years ago. In Japanese, oyaji means uncles.

"I used to think old people are very far from me, like strangers. However, I later realized how crazy they can be. They are like old children, and they don't have limits," says Itoh, explaining his inspiration.

Initially, the performance proved a big challenge for Singaporean oyajis. "It was very hard at first because I couldn't follow it," says Chow Choon Chong, a 69-year-old Singaporean retiree.

But he practiced with his fellows every Monday for 10 weeks before the opening of the festival. "I like dancing and though I promised my wife never to spend too much time on it, I couldn't help but sign up for this project. I'm really enjoying it."

Itoh says he "was impressed" by the passion of Singaporean oyajis. "Practicing, they were very shy and always turned their eyes away when they saw strangers," he recalls, with a smile. "Now, while still shy and a little clumsy, they look customers straight in the eye."

Low says the theory behind having more community shows is to simply "bring the family in."

"If the grandpa, grandma, uncle or aunt are going to perform, the family will come to watch the show. Once they get curious, they'll find the art isn't that abstract at all," he says.

Another example of this approach is the show "The Best Sex I've Ever Had," in which local women aged 65 and above, talk candidly about their sex lives, going through their lives year by year. Only women audience have the access to the show.

"They were sometimes embarrassed, but they got used to it and invited their friends to join us," says Jenna Winter, managing producer with Mammalian Diving Reflex, a Canadian theater company that created the show.

"I was impressed that they didn't care as much about sex as many people in Canada. I was impressed with the other aspects of their lives: their hobbies, their volunteering. Their sense of humor touches me; the way they can laugh while they talk about all the bad, quick and painful sex they've had," says Darren O'Donnell, artistic and research director with the company.

But is it art?

"That's the very question that some of our participants asked me," laughs Winter. "Yes, it is. Everyone on stage is playing themselves, a role in life."

And Low has no doubts either, "Art is everywhere in daily life," he says.

"When you get up in the morning and choose the clothes to wear, there comes art. When a granny picks a fresh fish in wet market simply by looking at the color of the fish's eyes, that's art," he says.

For more information, check www.singaporeartsfest.com.