Diary of an Expat in Singapore Read online

  Diary of an Expat in Singapore

  Diary of an Expat in Singapore

  Jennifer Gargiulo

  © 2013 Jennifer Gargiulo

  Published by Marshall Cavendish Editions

  An imprint of Marshall Cavendish International

  1 New Industrial Road, Singapore 536196

  All rights reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner. Request for permission should be addressed to the Publisher, Marshall Cavendish International (Asia) Private Limited, 1 New Industrial Road, Singapore 536196. Tel: (65) 6213 9300. Fax: (65) 6285 4871. E-mail: [email protected]. Website: www.marshallcavendish.com/genref

  The publisher makes no representation or warranties with respect to the contents of this book, and specifically disclaims any implied warranties or merchantability or fitness for any particular purpose, and shall in no events be liable for any loss of profit or any other commercial damage, including but not limited to special, incidental, consequential, or other damages.

  Other Marshall Cavendish Offices:

  Marshall Cavendish Corporation. 99 White Plains Road, Tarrytown NY 10591-9001, USA • Marshall Cavendish International (Thailand) Co Ltd. 253 Asoke, 12th Flr, Sukhumvit 21 Road, Klongtoey Nua, Wattana, Bangkok 10110, Thailand • Marshall Cavendish (Malaysia) Sdn Bhd, Times Subang, Lot 46, Subang Hi-Tech Industrial Park, Batu Tiga, 40000 Shah Alam, Selangor Darul Ehsan, Malaysia.

  Marshall Cavendish is a trademark of Times Publishing Limited

  National Library Board, Singapore Cataloguing-in-Publication Data: Gargiulo, Jennifer.

  Diary of an expat in Singapore / Jennifer Gargiulo. – Singapore : Marshall Cavendish Editions, 2013.

  pages cm

  eISBN: 978 981 4516 73 0

  1. Gargiulo, Jennifer – Anecdotes. 2. Aliens – Singapore – Anecdotes 3. Singapore – Social life and customs – Humor. I. Title.

  JV6091

  305.90691 – dc23 OCN 848549666

  Printed in Singapore by Markono Print Media Pte Ltd

  Contents

  Preface

  Acknowledgements

  1. Signs you’re an expat mom in Singapore

  2. Signs you’re an expat dad in Singapore

  3. Signs you’re an expat kid in Singapore

  4. Politically incorrect expat profiling

  5. Stuff first-time visitors to Singapore say

  6. Signs you’re in a taxi in Singapore

  7. Signs you’re at a Starbucks in Singapore

  8. Stuff expat moms in Singapore say

  9. More stuff expat moms in Singapore say

  10. Signs you may have overstayed

  11. More signs you may have overstayed

  12. Uniquely Singapore (Part 1)

  13. Uniquely Singapore (Part 2)

  14. Do’s and don’ts when you’re a kid in the Maldives

  15. Signs you’re at a hair salon in Singapore

  16. Things I do instead of working on my book

  17. Signs you’re living in a condo in Singapore

  18. Signs you’re at a nail salon in Singapore

  19. Signs you’re not slumming it in Singapore

  20. Life according to Eliot (expat child, age 5)

  21. Stereotypes about Singapore that are actually true

  22. A day in the life of an expat in Singapore

  23. Favourite landmarks in Singapore

  24. Signs your kids need a Chinese tutor

  25. Things my mom told the kids (which she didn’t really have to)

  26. Things an expat kid wants to do instead of swimming at 7 a.m. on a Saturday

  27. Signs you’re an expat spending Christmas in Singapore

  28. Fun things to do with kids during the holidays in Singapore

  29. Signs you’re at an international school

  30. Stuff expats in Singapore like

  31. More stuff expats like

  32. Stuff posh expats in Singapore like

  33. Random things I learned living in Singapore

  34. If ‘Downton Abbey’ were set in Singapore

  35. Signs you’re at Changi Airport

  36. Signs you’re homesick

  37. Signs you’re about to travel home

  38. Signs you’re an expat studying Chinese

  39. Parents’ coffee morning Singapore-style

  40. In transit: 24 hours in Singapore

  41. Signs you’re at a grocery store in Singapore

  42. Stuff expats find somewhat disconcerting about Singapore

  43. Signs there’s a hazardous haze in Singapore

  44. Expat’s Bucket List

  About the author

  Preface

  THIS IS NOT a diary, nor a journal. In fact, this is not even the book I wanted to write. I was thinking of something more along the lines of Ernest Hemingway’s ‘A Moveable Feast’.

  I guess this is what happens when you are not single, living in Paris, or an alcoholic. You write a blog instead. If you’re incredibly lucky, an editor stumbles upon it and sees something you don’t: a book.

  I remember announcing the day we found out we were moving to Singapore, a country I knew nothing about: “Okay, but just one year.”

  That was seven years ago. Prophetic as always.

  After a few months, I started recording the little things: the trivial, the dreams, the mundane. I wasn’t expecting anybody to actually follow the blog, well, maybe a few readers (mostly blood relatives). Surprisingly, it started getting daily hits in the hundreds; I was pretty sure these were people googling “dumplings” or “tropical island in Southeast Asia” who had gotten there by mistake.

  The one thing I’ve learned so far is that being an expat is more a state of mind than a location; hopefully, this book will accompany you there.

  Acknowledgements

  EVEN THOUGH I was the one doing the actual procrastinating and drinking coffee, I still want to thank some people who helped me along the way:

  My awesome editors at Marshall Cavendish, Justin Lau and Melvin Neo, who had a vision from the very beginning and most importantly got all my jokes.

  My friends, who never failed to instill fear in me by asking: “Are you finished?”

  My parents, Mario and Norma, for their love and support.

  My brothers, Stephen (blog statistics expert) and Julian (soul-crushing first reader).

  My children, Alexander and Eliot, who never minded when I channelled my inner Oprah (usually after finishing a chapter): “You get a car! You get a car!”

  And finally, my optimistic husband, Michele, who plans on retiring and living off the royalties from this book.

  Diary of an Expat in Singapore

  Signs you’re an expat mom in Singapore

  You measure distance in taxi-minute terms.

  This metric system, unique to Singapore, is very useful for those without a car. Measuring distance in taxi minutes (and more importantly, taxi dollars) can help the expat mom gauge which birthday parties her kids will be attending, and consequently, which friendships to encourage. Sleepover in JB (Johor Bahru)? I don’t think so. Some friends might call this cynical but the expat mom calls it practical. One needs to follow a certain criteria when selecting friends. That’s where taxis can help.

  You decide that your morning walk to drop the kids off at school is close enough to taking a bikram yoga course.

  Bikram yoga is a type of yoga done in 40°C heat, a walk in Singapore is also done in 40°C heat. Throw in the 100% humidity factor and you’ve got yoursel
f a party. On the plus side: walking is free. Wearing blue jeans? Not advisable. The expat mom will initially shrug off naysayers with a casual “I’ve seen worse.” True enough, but has her hair? If her goal was looking like Marge from ‘The Simpsons’… things are looking good.

  If you hear the term trailing spouse one more time…

  Unless you’re Wordsworth waxing lyrical about trailing clouds of glory in his ‘Intimations of Immortality’, you’d best refrain from using the term trailing when describing the expat mom. She’s not too keen on being a trailing anything. You may refer to her as a trailblazer. This will go over much better. Not as much as using the words Bali, villa, and rental all in the same sentence, but far better than when she discovered the house came without a dishwasher.

  4 You’d like your children to learn Mandarin. You just don’t want to be a part of it.

  The expat mom has seen the characters (the many, many characters), has attended a class or two, and is well aware of what a Herculean task this is… which is why she wants no part in it. The expat mom will drop her kids off and secretly think: “Kids, you are on your own.” When her kids complain about how hard it is, she will sympathize. Really. But she will still think: “Kids, you are on your own.” Let’s face it, if she had been meant to learn Chinese, she wouldn’t have had any alcohol in college. The expat mom can be very rational when she wants to.

  The only time you can wear your favourite jeans or sweater is at the movies (where it feels like winter in Alaska).

  Once upon a time, the expat mom was young and adventurous. While on a stroll with her husband or kids, she may even have impulsively suggested: “Let’s go to the movies.” Not in Singapore, unless she wants pneumonia. The words spontaneity and cinema do not go together in Singapore. One must plan ahead and dress accordingly. Think ski trip in the Alps. Gloves optional.

  Your handbag includes mosquito repellent, sunscreen, an umbrella, and your kid’s bathing suit.

  No self-respecting expat mom would leave the house without these essential items. You think: “For what… the jungle?” The expat mom thinks: “Hmmm no, suburban Singapore.” Mentally she imagines an episode of ‘Man vs. Wild’ and prepares for the worst. You say: “Picnic on the East Coast,” she hears: “Dengue fever.” You say: “Drizzling,” she hears: “Tropical rainstorm.” And if you say: “Lounge by the pool,” she hears: “Sunburn.” And yes, it is selective hearing.

  You discover a bottle of wine costs as much as a mini vacation.

  The allure of living in exotic Southeast Asia drops dramatically the very first time the expat mom goes shopping. Forget the Chardonnay she was accustomed to… she might very well be drinking Tang from now on. On the plus side, this might be the only country where getting a shrink is actually cheaper than drowning your sorrows in wine. I can’t imagine the alcoholism rate is high. Do Singaporeans not drink wine? With such exorbitant prices (multiply by ten if you are planning to drink outside the home, at say an actual bar or restaurant), drinking is prohibitive. There really is no such thing as a casual drink out with friends… at that price tag, consider it an investment.

  You miss your car, your best friend, your relatives. In that order.

  The fact that owning a Toyota Corolla here costs as much as owning a Porsche 911 elsewhere should be a good indicator of whether you and your family will be acquiring a car. Not likely. The fact that the exorbitant tax levy is actually a bit of urban planning genius doesn’t really soften the blow. Nor the realization that this is what keeps pollution and gridlock at bay. It should, but it doesn’t. Not when you have to carry groceries in the rain.

  And the spouse employee should make no mistake: should the company decide to cough up a car, guess who will be using it? Sure, if you’re lucky, she might drop you off at the office after leaving the kids at school. But after work, during rush hour? You’re on your own. After all, you were always boasting about the amazing public transportation system.

  You know the difference between a gecko and a lizard.

  Not really something the expat mom can add to her c.v. but impressive nonetheless. It does smack of Southeast Asia insider information. Newsflash: This is the only reptile she will ever be happy to see in the house. Of course, if it’s jumping out of the fridge when she’s reaching for maple syrup it might spook her. What? The air con wasn’t high enough?

  You become an expert at dealing with jet lag.

  There is nobody, and I mean nobody, better at dealing with jet lag than the expat mom. She could hold a TED conference on the subject… she’s that good. You may think that’s because nobody really needs this particular talent… really? When your toddler is demanding breakfast at 2 a.m., who are you going to call?

  You don’t fight with your kids so much… but that could be because you don’t hear them over the construction work.

  There is a reason you have the number of the NEA (National Environment Agency) taped to your refrigerator. And it’s not because your husband works there. The good news is the NEA will dispatch a car to get the construction site to shut down the drilling because it’s theoretically illegal after 11 pm. The bad news is the overseer suffers from short-term memory loss and you will need to call again the next day. And the next.

  At $12 a box, you classify Cheerios as a luxury item.

  Forget oysters and foie gras. The expat mom may be depressed at first to discover that in Singapore cereal costs as much as salmon. She will come around. Breakfast is, after all, the most important meal of the day. There is no better time to follow local customs: “Kids, here’s your porridge.” If it’s good enough for Goldilocks…

  You disregard the humidity index of 100% and think a picnic at the Botanic Gardens is a good idea.

  The Botanic Gardens is an oasis in the middle of the city. Think lily pads, walking trails, rare orchids. A picnic in the middle of the day? Eliot’s face says it best:

  Signs you’re an expat dad in Singapore

  Your children’s international school fees leave you fairly disconcerted ($33,000 for third grade… what are they learning, rocket science?).

  There are some expats who don’t know how much their children’s school fees are. That’s because their fees are covered by the company in what is reverently called the expat package. These are the lucky expats. You are not one of them.

  Some dads dream at night of all the wonderful things their kids are learning at school. You have insomnia. Seeing your child play Minecraft doesn’t help.

  When the expat dad first arrived, he was surprised to discover Singaporeans are not allowed to attend international schools. In this way, the government is protecting its students and avoiding any possibility of elitism by ensuring that every Singaporean has an equal opportunity and a vested interest in keeping the public school system competitive. Or, as one (possibly paranoid) taxi driver confided, it is a great way to track students from the first grade onwards. The government even awards the best students scholarships to study at foreign universities, the only condition being their commitment to return to work for Singapore. This avoids a brain drain (such as other countries experience). It’s like the U.S. Army ROTC… minus the push-ups.

  When the expat dad discovers this competitive educational system comes at about $5 per month, he might break down. There may be some sobbing involved.

  Your kids boast about staying in 5-star resorts. Your childhood often involved a tent.

  One of the perks of living in Southeast Asia is the plethora of amazing places at your doorstep: pristine beaches, lush rainforests, and exotic cities. Pretty soon the expat dad sees this more as a liability than a perk. Especially since his expat wife and family are quickly making the switch from modest hotels to luxury resorts. Initially, it’s because the drinking water is safe. Afterwards, it’s the champagne buffets and water sports in gorgeous waters. And, if you thought drinking alcohol in Singapore was prohibitive, try Bali.

  You welcome 11 pm conference calls with California… not really.

  For
the working and non-working spouse alike, maintaining relationships with the United States is tough. Tougher than Europe. Blame it on the 12-hour time difference. Travelling there and back is no picnic either. The 24-hour trip is nothing compared to the massive jet lag, which will hit you like a sledgehammer. Throw in a couple of toddlers and it’s a party.

  Business trips are fine… unless they involve a Sunday.

  There is nothing the expat spouse likes less than having the working spouse out of town on the weekend. During the week, it’s fine, almost routine. Early dinners with the kids, late-night snacks in front of the TV, no fighting over the remote… but Sunday, that’s another story. Nobody should be alone with the kids for that long.

  Your wife keeps close track of your frequent flyer miles.

  Similar to the way the expat mom measures distance in taxi dollars (the restaurant is about $6 away – during peak hour), plane trips are assessed in frequent flyer currency. For example, should the expat dad need to go on a business trip to Boston in January, he thinks: “It’s going to be freezing.” She reasons: “That’s 70,000 points… totally worth it.” She may not have been so strong in math before, but now she’s sharp as a whip.

  You know which Asian airport has the best lounge, best sushi, longest taxi queue.

  As a seasoned business traveller, the expat dad is more adept than Jason Bourne at navigating airports (without a concealed weapon, of course). In fact, he probably knows the airports better than the cities he’s going to. And, of course, this makes the expat dad that much happier when he lands at Changi, Singapore’s international airport. Dorothy in ‘The Wizard of Oz’ said: “There’s no place like home.” The expat dad will secretly chant: “There’s no place like Changi.”