Diary of an Expat in Singapore Page 5

  So, is the national language English, Chinese, or Malay? Nobody really knows. The government can’t make up its mind and there are too many dialects to consider. No bother, most Singaporeans speak Singlish. Not always clear as certain answers sound like questions and vice-versa: “Can I have some coffee?” “Can. Can.” (Is that a yes or an invitation to break into a French dance routine?) Had I not moved to Singapore, I might never have known that the word off can be used as a verb: “Would you like me to off the air con?”

  Uniquely Singapore (Part 2)

  Racial harmony

  Chinese New Year, Hari Raya, Diwali… you know, any excuse for a party. Seriously, it’s great. There is no other country in the world with this much racial, religious, and ethnic diversity living side by side. On the news, it is common to hear about what it means to be a Singaporean, and nation-building exercises are very popular. I can’t really imagine the same topics being discussed on the news in Italy. Not to mention that it is perfectly natural for an Italian to complain about his country’s politicians, laws, or government. In fact, complaining is an integral part of an Italian’s identity. You can’t take that away from him. Whereas in Singapore, complaining is viewed, at the very least, as unpatriotic. More importantly, it is illegal to say or write anything which could instigate racial hatred. When a lady complained on social media about her Malay neighbour’s loud wedding, within hours she had lost her job and a formal complaint had been lodged with the police against her. The last I heard she was living in Australia. If only they had thought to invite her.

  Unemployed immigrants are nonexistent

  Unlike in Italy, where this is huge problem, there are no unemployed foreign workers here. You can only come into the country if you have a job and, if you lose it, you have exactly two weeks to find another one. If you don’t, your visa expires and you need to leave the country. And the rule applies equally to domestic workers and bank vice-presidents.

  Chewing gum ban

  If your kid doesn’t chew gum, chances are you live in Singapore. The number of cavities an expat kid has is directly proportionate to the amount of time spent in his home country during the school holidays.

  Caning

  Used to be a widely accepted form of punishment in schools and homes, now it’s mostly just used in prison… and my house (but only when Alexander forgets his homework at school). Anyway, if you’re thinking of indulging in graffiti or scratching up somebody’s car with a key, you can expect to be caned. And the law is really the same for everybody (i.e. President Clinton was unable to get an American teenager pardoned after he scratched up a car with a key). My son’s swimming coach told us that he was caned as a child. And it was never for discipline, just for grades. In fact, whenever he got his test back from a teacher, he already knew exactly how many strikes of the cane he would get. Incredibly, he was not the least bit resentful toward his parents but saw their behaviour as fair and justifiable. Considering that now he is a professional swimmer studying to become a neurosurgeon at a top university… who am I to argue?

  Expat haven

  Thanks to the strong multicultural and international presence it’s very easy to make friends. Unlike other countries, where long-established friendships cause an expat to be viewed as an outsider just passing through and therefore not worth the effort of really getting to know, in Singapore there is more of a “We’re potentially here for just a brief period of time, forget the small talk and cut to the chase, barbecue on Friday?” mentality.

  Very high car tax levies

  Annoying for most expats, but actually a great way to encourage people to use public bus and metro lines. Note to urban planners in countries everywhere: if you really want to fight pollution, just stick super-high tax levies on cars. You’ll see a sudden mass exodus from car dealerships to train/subway/bus platforms.

  EZ-Link

  Never leave your house without it. Very cool invention that looks like a credit card and that everybody carries. It can be used to pay for bus fares, metros… and even McDonald’s (think carefully before revealing this to your kids).

  Pools everywhere

  Seriously, everywhere. There’s even one at Changi Airport. Just in case you have a layover or a long wait at the baggage claim. That’s a joke (the long wait at the baggage claim part). Just don’t expect to meet many (did I say many? Sorry, I meant any) local kids swimming in them. As mentioned before, they’re at tuition. If you really want to make some local friends, the best way is to sign up for some after-school enrichment classes… math anyone?

  Good manners

  Remember to take your shoes off before entering a house, hand over your business card with both hands, and distribute oranges at Chinese New Year. You will be asked back.

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

  Do pack snacks.

  Your parents may have bought the ‘breakfast only’ deal. There’s a reason the Maldives are ranked amongst the most expensive places in the world. Then again, your mother claims she’s been wanting to go ever since she got married. And, you’ve been wanting to go ever since you studied coral reefs in the fifth grade. And, let’s not forget that nasty rumour predicting the entire archipelago will be submerged in the next few years.

  Don’t assume you’ll be having lunch (see above).

  After all the dumplings, prawn noodles, and mee goreng you’ve been scarfing down, this might be a good thing. In hindsight, you should have eaten that beef stew on the plane coming over. But who knew it would be the last lunch for the next five days?

  Do take the seaplane from the airport to the resort.

  Unless, of course, you were thinking of swimming. You can get a speedboat to the hotels near the airport but any photos you’ve ever seen of the Maldives were taken from a seaplane. So, if you’re going to take proper photos, the ones that will make your relatives jealous, don’t risk it – you’d best board a seaplane. Be warned: it isn’t cheap.

  Don’t drink juice right before you board.

  Self-explanatory. In case not, let me just add: seaplanes are not smooth sailing. Think TV show about a private charter plane company that operates in the remote wilderness of Alaska. Only less wild and less cold, but just as bumpy.

  Do try canoeing with your little sister.

  It’s not like there is a lot else to do. You’re on an island and your parents chose a resort without television. Because your mother can’t imagine anything worse than hearing the sound of Phineas and Ferb five minutes after arriving in this paradise on earth. You can: it’s called the sound of no TV.

  Don’t rely on her to paddle.

  Your little sister will claim a sudden love for any water sport you want to do. The fact that she is 50% shorter and lighter than you doesn’t usually matter – until you happen to be in the middle of the Indian Ocean in a canoe that requires paddling.

  Do remember sunscreen.

  Any essential items such as sun protection, hats, sunglasses, and Oreos are exorbitantly priced at the resort. They mostly sell sarongs and expensive jewellery. And, if you wanted to pay $10 for a box of Fig Newtons… you could have stayed in Singapore. Before leaving, your mom might even splurge on a new bathing suit for herself… one your dad later refers to as her burkhini.

  Don’t assume that just because water costs as much as Coke you’ll be getting Coke.

  Bizarrely Coke is as cheap as water, or rather, water is as expensive as Coke. And the baby pizza is indeed meant for a baby. And yet still costs $20 (that’s US dollars not Singaporean). In fairness, if you’re flying in from Singapore, the high price for pizza shouldn’t come as a complete shock. Ever eat pizza in the Lion City? Is there gold in the dough? The bill will come as a shock especially if you’re from Italy, where pizza is still an affordable option for a night out with friends.

  Do try snorkelling. Just not with your mother.

  If someone tells you they are not really a snorkelling person, believe them. What with the curly hair, the glasse
s, the bad attitude… it’s not pretty.

  Don’t bring homework. They’ll really expect you to do it.

  This one is very important. Never, under any circumstance, bow under pressure and bring homework on your holiday. That wouldn’t really be a holiday now, would it? And, just because it’s in your suitcase does not mean all hope is gone. There’s still customs… no saying what could get lost there. It’s Nadi airport, not Changi, after all.

  Do look for dolphins.

  This is your number one dream: to see a dolphin. But just because there are posters all over the resort advertising expensive excursions with the tantalizing promise, “Come meet our dolphins,” does not mean you are going to see one.

  Do not expect to see any.

  If you do convince your parents to sign up for the expensive excursion, you might spot the official resident resort dolphin. Call me cynical, but I’m pretty sure it was remote-controlled by the manager. You can forget about seeing the schools of dolphins you were led to believe you’d see when signing up.

  Do try a fast ride on the banana boat.

  Even if you fall in, the Indian Ocean water is warm. Be adventurous. You only live once. When do you think you’ll be back to the Maldives? At these prices? Never.

  Don’t get lost.

  What’s the only thing worse than getting lost on a sun-drenched island in the middle of the day? Your little sister getting lost. Who do you think they are going to blame? Is it your fault she got bored of watching you play pool? There was only so much origami you could do at that kids’ club.

  Signs you’re at a hair salon in Singapore

  They offer you a cup of hot water.

  It’s only 100 degrees Fahrenheit in the shade outside… who wouldn’t want a refreshing cup of hot water? Anybody hear of iced tea?

  Marie Claire is in Chinese.

  It is pretty safe to say that when all the magazines at a hair salon are in Chinese, you are probably in a Chinese hair salon. When the stylist points to a random Western personality (Beyonce, Katy Perry, Adele) and then points to you, you may not be sure how to respond. “What? We’re all singers? We’re all Western? We all straighten our hair…? What is it?” Don’t expect an answer. Just a smile, like “You know.”

  You’re the client with the most challenging hair.

  No, it’s not your imagination. It really is a look of dread filling the eyes of all the hairdressers at the salon when you walk in the door. Who will be the lucky stylist assigned to you? And, yes, it is because you have curly, frizzy, totally unmanageable hair by their standards – let’s be honest – by any standards. The fact that you say, “Straight, please,” does not make you any more endearing.

  You can’t understand any of the gossip.

  Bring a book because you’re not going to be hearing any of the juicy details about the latest Singaporean pop star, footballer, or for that matter, the client who just walked out of the salon. Just when you thought you were getting on fine living in Singapore without speaking Chinese, you had to ruin it all by getting your hair done.

  You bring in your reluctant son who studies Mandarin, so he can tell you if they’re talking about you. They are.

  There is a possible solution to the language barrier. Your son. The obvious disadvantage being that you can only get your hair done on school holidays. But if that’s what it takes to know whether the stylist is making fun of you or not… it’s totally worth it.

  It’s freezing.

  You think you don’t need to bring a sweater since there will be hot air from the hair-dryer directed at your head for over an hour. You are wrong. It is still freezing. If you don’t want a pile of pity towels draped over you, bring a pashmina.

  When they say: “Your hair is so curly,” it’s not in a good way.

  Singaporeans are not too keen on curls… frizzy hair is a complete mystery. “How did this mishap of a hairstyle occur?” Your self-confidence may take a blow when they point to your hair and lift both shoulders at the same time. And Singaporean hairdressers are very candid. They do not mince words. Probably not going to win any diplomacy awards. If you gained weight or look tired, you are going to hear about it.

  Describing your desired colour as “copper – you know, like the colour of the sun setting on kitchen pots in a Tuscan farmhouse” is not a foolproof plan.

  In your mind, it’s all very clear. But when your mental image of copper morphs into a bright-red Japanese anime character, that’s where the phrase lost in translation becomes suddenly, alarmingly relevant. If only they had not nodded their heads in such total understanding when you mentioned the copper pots and the sunsets in Tuscany.

  Those straightened locks smiling back at you from the mirror may stay behind at the hair salon.

  I guess you forgot about the 100% humidity outside. For a Caucasian with very curly hair, there is nothing more demoralizing than walking out of a hair salon in Singapore. By the time she gets home (regardless of the weather), her hair will very likely be a hot mess. The thought of the time spent and the cash wasted will increase her resolve to never go back… at least for another week. Anything to get that fleeting glimpse of the girl with the straight hair reflected in the mirror.

  Things I do instead of working on my book

  Make coffee.

  My first coffee of the day. Nothing like it. And both kids at school. Silence in the house. Heaven. I feel like skipping from room to room and playing Billie Holiday. Maybe not. I just brought one child downstairs to get the bus in a torrential downpour but by the time I had to bring my daughter it had stopped. Thank goodness for that, and for her no longer finding her pink flute, which the other day she insisted on playing the whole way to school. After all, she’s not the pied piper. And, more importantly, I’m not deaf.

  Read book reviews online.

  Not only a fun way to procrastinate, it is sometimes necessary to find out what’s appropriate reading material for one’s son with a voracious reading habit.

  A few months ago, in fact, debating (briefly) whether ‘Hunger Games’ was a suitable book for my ten-year-old son, I remembered the fairy tales I had read him as a child. Even now I feel a little guilty. That’s some scary stuff. So, if you are just starting out as a parent, tread carefully.

  First off, the Beatrix Potter series. Sure it’s a classic, the illustrations are gorgeous, and you fully intend to visit the Lake District at some point, but beware: this series is not for the faint-hearted. Examples:

  a. ‘Jemima Puddle-Duck’: Innocent duck held prisoner by a crafty fox intent on cooking her… scary.

  b. ‘The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies’: Farmer McGregor tying up the cute, adorable, sleeping flopsy bunnies in a sack so that the skins can line his wife’s cloak… even scarier.

  c. ‘Tom Kitten’:Cute little kitty falls into the clutches of a greedy rat. The rat rolls him up in some dough with a rolling pin to enjoy some Kitten Dumpling… scariest of all.

  Next, the Grimms’ Fairy Tales. Take your pick. And, unlike Beatrix Potter, you know this is some seriously scary stuff. But you just can’t help yourself. You probably read this as a child. I know I did. Why deprive your child of all those witches, evil stepmothers, and catastrophic chains of events unleashed when an unsuspecting orphan child walks alone into the woods at night?

  a. ‘Sleeping Beauty’: A witch called Maleficent who holds a grudge because she wasn’t invited to the party.Seriously scary (though on the plus side can be used as a lesson on why it’s nice to include everybody).

  b. ‘Rapunzel’: Probably the very last princess in your daughter’s princess phase before she moves on to fairies, unicorns, and Barbie dolls – all way less scary than a little girl getting locked up in a high tower for years by an evil witch with a high-pitched laugh.

  c. ‘Hansel and Gretel’: Two little children left in a forest to starve to death by their evil stepmother but then lured into a candy house owned by a witch who wants to fatten them up so she can… eat them?!

  d. �
�Little Red Riding Hood’:Where do I start? A wolf disguised as a sick grandmother… really?

  And then there’s ‘Peter Pan’.Notwithstanding the double whammy of Captain Hook and a crocodile, this was hands down my daughter’s favourite. Personally I’m no longer scared the wicked witch from the Wizard of Oz is hiding under my bed. I just check because I want to.

  Order some of those books on Amazon.

  I was walking down Bukit Timah this morning in a dismal downpour when it hit me. Not that I was going to get wet… well, maybe that too. I had an umbrella but in Singapore that’s irrelevant. If it rains, umbrella or no umbrella, you’re going to get wet.

  My aha moment was simply this: there are not enough bookshops here like Hodges Figgis on Dawson Street in Dublin. There are a few charming ones – Littered With Books and Books Actually come to mind – but Hodges Figgis holds a special place in my heart. The bookshop was my favourite haunt when I lived there in my twenties. My Irish expat friends here in Singapore think I’m joking when I tell them I’m half-Irish. But my affinity with the poetry, literature and sense of humour can’t be a fluke. I was just born in Italy but really I’m Irish. I can vividly recall the creamy top of a Guinness with soup and soda bread in a pub on a rainy day after classes… but I digress. Not to mention that with my newfound love of dumplings and Tiger Beer I am becoming more and more Singaporean.