A Singaporean In Australia

When I asked Uncle Wong how much was the price of petrol in Singapore, his answer was, "Eh.... petrol not my department." Heh. Too many years in civil service. Even so, I suspect the Director of the Petrol Department, Mrs Wong Y.K might not be aware of the current price anyway.

To be fair, from a Singaporean's point of view, why do we even bother, since every petrol kiosks in Singapore sells at the same price? What is this? Pakkat ah? Damn it. If that is not annoying enough, why doesn't the price drop in tandem to oil prices? 

If we don't already know, the prices of every petrol kiosk in Perth differ every single day. Thus there is no such thing as brand or even kiosk loyalty unless you already regularly fill up at the cheapest kiosk on its cheapest day. In my view, that is not a bad thing. At least everyone has some business to do and consumers have the flexibility of choice. As for the recent dip in fuel prices, I don't understand why kiosk owners here don't simply Pakkat with their friends and continue to sell at the previous prices, since consumers have to suck it up anyway just like the way car owners in Singapore do. Honesty? Integrity? Or fear of a collective punch from angry consumers? I'll never know for sure. With 22% average drop in fuel prices since Winter, I don't think the consumers in Perth will complain, if this may signal an imminent (further) downward spiral of the economy here. Surely that beats the need to endure continuously high prices despite people losing jobs or getting their wages frozen deeper than Queen Elsa's dungeons. If my memories serve me correctly, that was what we went through in Singapore. I hope this has changed. Since Singapore is still going up, up and away at the moment, time can only tell. From my experience, if we place any expectations on that, we will end up in disappointment.

I filled the tank at $1.13/L today, down from the peak of $1.50 this year. Though that was just a few cents difference, the numbers did add up a bit after you went on long enough. At the end of the day, every bit counts if you can throw more seeds into the field. That will be what I have to do. I can't stop now.

What's that? It is a high pressure cleaner clad in attractive bright yellow that can be used to produce a water jet at 1400 psi with a light weight trigger gun, all fitting into a compact 40 x 20 x 30 cm box. The question is, is there a guy who would mind having one of these in his storeroom. Heck, it can even fit into a locker. Or a suitcase. So you can travel the world and spray at things. 

Trust me, it is that satisfying. For a start, think about your grease-caked kitchen hood filter. I don't care what method you use to wash those. That is only one thing you should do, jet the hell out of it. The same goes for your vent cover, fan cover, dirty boots and even your face if you hate it enough. The Exterminator will spare none.

Who introduced us into the world of possibilities? The new guy Wee Tuck. One fine day, he turned up at work like an excited boy with a catalog of boy toys. Within minutes, he was able to convinced us what might be good bargains off their usual prices. Well, asingaporeanson do not access his purchases based on usual prices. He measures his purchases based on the value it will bring to him. With that framework, a 50% discount voucher off a $2000 LV bag will go straight to the dustbin. That is how simple the principle had made decision making these days.

So would I pay $99 for a high pressure cleaner? Actually yes. But what could be better? Part-ownership. Since the guys were happy to be enticed into a time-share scheme, I became a third of the owner of the machine with just $33. Now I can jet the hell out of things.

The opener would be our terribly dirty cars. I shot at them all from the cleanest to the dirtiest car - Wee Tuck's Honda Civic, Rahmat's Toyota Corolla and Ugly Green in that order. Even without soap, it was able to provide a satisfying clean up. We will do a proper one next time perhaps. At the end of the day, Ugly Green hit the road at its cleanest form since our purchase. That showed how much I had slackened since I moved from Singapore. Though my buddies were clean car zealots, my van didn't pale in comparison among their shiny cars. I bet back in those days we wouldn't hesitate to fork out $33 each to have one of these. The question is - where do we use it in Singapore? Where could we find a quiet place with a electric and water source that we can legally use to fulfill out simple wish of keeping our cars clean in a more thrilling manner than bucket splashing? When I was jetting their cars, I experienced another wish-you-were-here moment. Believe me, these moments will never feel good unless they are fulfilled. It feels worse when you know they will never be.

I couldn't help but notice the spending differences between Singaporean and Aussie men. Spending habits can be easily traced by observing the trend of advertised products. To get money off Singaporean men, marketers in Singapore focus on electronic goods, cameras, cars, gym memberships, weight and hair gain programs. In Australia, it was about tools, knives, sheds, tools, cars (same), car repair tools, gardening stuffs, kinky kitchenware and tools. Hair loss? Bah. They'll just get on with it or slap on a hat. Weight loss programs? Haha. Did I mention Aussie men like tools?

If you ever visit a hardware (not computer) warehouse or car accessories shops here as a guy, I promise you'll stay for awhile. Too many toys for grown up boys.

So we were told a farm had a good harvest this year and it would cost the farmers more to hire workers for harvesting work than offer cheap strawberries to the public on a condition - they pick the stuff themselves. We thought it was a good idea and so we drove north into the suburb of Bullsbrook and to see for ourselves what the hype was about.

The moment we alighted from Ugly Green, we were greeted with a stench of rotting strawberries. Are you even surprised? In any kind of farming activity there will be thousands of life cycles happening all at the same time even while you sleep at night. There will be death along with life. So don't be surprised if a farmer gain more insights of the meaning of life than we'll ever did while not even leaving his little farm. As for rotting strawberries stench, it might probably be the sweetest smell of decomposition ever. No one would be likely to mind getting a few deep whiffs of those anytime.

Now the deal - we pay $10 upfront and will be given a tray. Then we proceed to pick strawberries in a designated lane open for harvesting that day. Once the tray is filled, it is done. We did just that.

Picking strawberries wasn't hard work, especially when I was gobbling strawberries as I worked. In all honesty, I was never a strawberry person but the first bite of a strawberry there got me hooked. It was the sweetest strawberry I had ever eaten. There wasn't a corner of my imagination that allowed a strawberry to taste that sweet. The companions reasoned out that strawberries sold in shops might be picked a stage just before the fruits are fully ripe in order to maximise shelf life. Thus they would never taste that sweet. I could accept that as a possible explanation. The problem was, after tasting strawberries so sweet, I doubt I would accept the sourish strawberries from shops any more.

Little Albany hopped around the sparse lanes in delight, following daddy like a little hungry puppy. Jen had to carry a bottle the whole time to wash a fruit before Albany popped one into her mouth. Before long, her cheeks were stained red.

There were at least 20 cars parked by the road with us. Every picker seemed to be genuinely happy to be free labour. At least for a first-timer like me, the experience was marvelous. The weather was perfect, cloudy with slight breeze (of sweet strawberries). Every picker seemed to be imbued with contagious enthusiasm. Every fruit popped into my mouth was a consistent juicy sweetness and no one was around to bark instructions like us. I felt like a free bird, my lunch was whatever I could find.

That kind of experience could make somebody develop a strong impulse to buy a house with a bit of land to do a bit of farming at the back yard. I made a mental note of a possible project in the future. Patience, patience. It was one of the most difficult thing to do. The few seconds before a winner mount the podium to receive his prize often felt like eternity. I could only wait. Freedom would come eventually as planned. Till then, I would have to keep myself occupied with little activities of meaningless gratification. That'll do for now.

We ended the day with too much strawberries, even for 3 families. Jen made some jam with the excess that I couldn't finish. Needless to say, it was the best strawberry jam I had tasted. Prior to that, I wasn't even a jam person but it wasn't easy to reject great homemade jam made entirely from real fruit. That was a happy experience. Wouldn't you be happy too, if you have lived my day?

Every year around this time, I moan endlessly about Summer. When Wee Tuck, the Singaporean dude who was 6 months into Perth told me he was looking forward to the infamous Perth summer heat, we almost laughed in his face. For we knew how it felt like working under an almost green house effect-like condition in the workshop during the most challenging 42 degrees Celsius day last Summer. He wouldn't like it of course, when it eventually falls on us. That wouldn't stop him from looking forward to it. I had platoon mates in my NS days who looked forward to IPPTs because they figured out that after two annual IPPTs, they would have served enough to be ready to fuck off. And I know someone who look forward to Monday because the next Saturday wouldn't come without it. Fine. Optimists and their thing.

For the past 3 years, summer gatecrashed and overstayed. Oddly enough, we are still experiencing rather cool pleasant air of Spring 2 weeks into Summer, much to the disappointment of Wee Tuck who has been rubbing his hands in greedy anticipation as an exception. The rest of us are grinning quietly and counting our blessings. Yes, Summer will eventually arrive to scorch our sorry asses. Till then, every day is a bonus. At least for now, I have been a happy Summer man.

This would be the third Christmas I am spending away from Singapore. To be honest, I missed the experience. The Chinese New Year novelty wore off gradually as I hit adulthood but the Christmas season remained enjoyable for me. For one, the weather was usually nice and cool in Singapore around that time. With nice carols being played wherever I go, there was this lonesome romanticism in the air that I enjoyed. Of course, the pace at work tend to slow down a bit as left for their holidays. Even the obnoxious crowd everywhere I go didn't seem that hateful for that brief few days. It was also the only time I didn't mind about people singing about their Gods. All in all, coupled with the fact that Perth has been a searing plane around this time for the past years, I think of my family and the streets of Singapore more often around this time of the year.

For the first time since I came to Perth, I am taking a few days off during the Summer holiday weeks to spend some time with my little family. I have been using my annual leave for my Singapore trips. In case you don't know, rather than regenerate, these returns wore us down. Activities were always packed in hectic schedules and time seem never enough for everyone, much less rest. I wouldn't go as far as saying I didn't really have a proper rest for 3 years but it was close. Jen seemed happy and began to surf the net like a little girl to look for where to go. It will be the first (short) road trip on our own. I hope for a quiet time without dramas. Good Summer to you.

I waited three years to write this.

Anyone who read my earliest posts would not fail to notice my enthusiasm of moving to Perth. To be honest, I didn't realise it shone through that way until I started receiving emails from people who told me my content was a source of contagion that planted poisonous seeds in minds. Once the mind was tainted with the uncertainty that the well was indeed the only paradise, cracks began to surface in our ideal reality. I had been there, so I knew.

Similarly, a new environment could be warped reality in the early years. Due to my aging mind, I could not remember who told me that but what he said remained steadfast in my mind since. In a new environment, our five sense tingles twice as strong. Every difference in the new environment is picked up with unerring exactitude. I could still remember the first time I woke up to in a cold wet Spring morning in Perth. It felt like I had woken to a dream. When I meant dream, I didn't mean it in the sense it was all things perfect but how unreal it felt, as if I was still exploring a realistic realm in my sleep. The crow cawed ominously and soulfully, way louder than the crows back in Singapore. I made my way outside Joanna's house and got a few whiffs of the most amazing air. I was shrouded with a cloudless clear blue sky, without a single building breaking the scene. I took a few moments to figure out why I felt so unaccustomed to my environment.  Nothing moved. That was the key. No walking humans, no cars past by. Other than birds well hidden in the trees giving a odd chirp now and then, it felt like I was looking at a picture.

I like the place. So the next move was to figure out a way to survive here as long as I could. To me, that was how simple the idea of migration was to me. No complication equations, balances or researches. So the wiseman told me, the rose-tinted glasses will fade within three years. It would be then I will begin to smell the decay of society like the previous one I came from. Perhaps by then, I will even conclude home is still the better place for me. I can see the wisdom in his claim in the people that I met, mostly Singaporeans who moved to Perth for four years or longer, moaning ceremoniously how Australia isn't as good as before.

I don't need to stay here for four or six years to find out which is a better place for me. I'm dense but not that dense. Moreover, I reminded myself that Singapore has been changing as rapidly as Perth while I was away. Sure, the respective changes in both countries can flip poles and it's worth keeping eyes open. Else it would be both foolish and irrelevant to compare the Australia of today to Singapore of the distant past. Our first sports millionaire Fandi Ahmad found that out the hard way but was smart enough to decide to move elsewhere to relive his kampong days. Meanwhile, many of our overseas Singaporeans began to wonder if their previous cushy government job many years ago is worth a big trip back. Interestingly, for all the moaning, very few of them are brave enough to return home. Why not, since the streets are laced with gold and untold riches and cheap maids await us? I'll just leave this here for you to think about it.

Recently Chris the scrap metal man turned up to collect our bins. He shook my hands warmly and told me how bad things were at the current state. Apparently that was the "worst Australia in 39 years." On my way back I thought over what Chris said, which was kind of in sync with what the other old fart Singaporeans were harping about. In fact, I found myself telling some newbie migrant that Perth was "better" when I moved here three years ago and spotted a hint of what-the-hell-this-old-fart-is-harping-about, this-is-good look on their faces. It was obvious enough to me that since times are never going to get better, whichever year we make the move will always be the best year. Of course, our best year will never compare to the best of the older farts but like I said, it is meaningless compare two different realities and time zones.

Back to the wise guy and his fading rose tinted glasses theory. There is definitely some truth in it. I could see myself telling myself occasionally how I felt like replacing Goldilocks with a Honda CRV and how the place I am living is too small. I also explore the place less. It takes a while for appreciation to fade into contentment then taking things for granted and eventually discontentment. It is too easy to fall into the trap of forgetting I am easily living a life better than 90% of the world population, worst year in Australia for 39 years or otherwise. I don't have to go into details what I am having here. It is amazing as it can be, for the relatively low price I am willing to pay at the moment. At the moment, the glass remains as rosy as before as I bid my time for bigger things to come. I'll do another round of reflection in another 3 years perhaps.