A Singaporean In Australia

Another lazy week in Perth came and went. There goes the last of my public holidays until quite some time later. It's time to work hard I guess. Hope there is work coming though.

Meanwhile, I hate Singaporeans a bit more. An old friend of mine has yet fathom why I could dislike my own countrymen with a vengeance. Let's talk about why my faith in Singaporean intellect has diminished a bit more over the last weeks. Perhaps I am just too over-critical as a human being. Well, if I meet someone who goes against every fucking single advice I give, then get into trouble exactly for not heeding those and get pissed not to receive instantaneous help for getting into trouble due to a disability to listen in the first place and better yet, rejects a brand new set of advice on how to get out of that pile of shit. Feeling a little bit pissed off for that, I call that being rational.

I've met Singaporeans who think every stranger who talks to them are drug addicts, drunkards or robbers. They totally freak out totally. There are times where I cry paranoia. I will be in Perth for 4 years by this September. 4 years. Let me recall what bad things that happened to me. Two car accidents, one got my car scrapped the other one yielded me a better car from compensation. One case of car side window smashed because I deserved it by leaving the same bag in the car every day until the incident happened. The good things that happened to me during the same period will fill pages. I don't feel like attempting that. All I can say that, the positives of my Australian life so far outweigh the negatives by a long, long mile. Thus I can't help but feel odd when new Singaporean migrants come to Perth and get butt fucked, mentally raped and psychologically threatened every once in three bloody days. Hey - guess what, I still give the benefit of doubt like giving flyers at Tanjong Pagar MRT on a busy day. I will still help new Singaporeans coming my way though I hate them to the core. That is the only way I can pay forward all the kindness I received from the better Singaporeans who stopped to help a fucken Singaporean with a bad attitude. For the new Singaporeans migrants coming, I do what I can and the rest is up to them. 

I wonder if my old friend will give me the same benefit of doubt just on the possibility that I keep meeting the Singaporean freaks that eluded his life.

Every now and then, I hear buzz phrases such as "Proud to be Singaporean," during Singaporean social gatherings. For someone who just don't believe in the idea of nationalism, I can't help but cringe whenever I hear these crap. What's there to be proud of, really? Of our achievements? Did I achieve those? Of our world class Changi Airport? I didn't build that. No. I don't have such thick hide to bathe in glory of the others. Of our high GDP? At the expense of my deflated salary? I feel several emotions about this but I can assure you pride is not on the list. Of our clean and green country? I litter. So do most of you fuckers. Yet the place is clean. I can tell you that I feel amazed than proud. Then I hear the classic justification from a litterbug that if he does not litter, cleaners will lose their jobs! That is why "shame" and "disgust" is top of the list with "pride" nowhere in sight.

Certainly, I can't stop Singaporeans from jumping on the pride bandwagon because our government encourages us to do so. These top men associate national pride to the sense of belonging, which is an important essence to the concepts of home. Many are confused about terms that are often interchangeably used but they are not the same thing. A house is not a home. A house is a physical space that provides a roof and the sense of safety. The location of our roots is not home. Just ask the Rohingya. Elsewhere, one can call anywhere home as long as it fits. So there is no link between your roots and home. No damn link at all. Home is where you feel home. The fact that the place where you call home happens to be where you are born and own a property doesn't mean it is right to casually link entitles together. If it works that way, your homes will be where you get shot in the head for driving away from chasing the police. Home is an abstract feeling and it is not easily explainable. How else will it be possible that millions of Singaporeans who lease apartments for 99 years with their pension, rent cars for 10 years at a quarter of their rental abode feel great, great pride in the nationality given to them for just being born at the right place?

I am happy to be Singaporean. So should you. I will even admit I am grateful to be a Singaporean. Like my old friend rightly said, I might not even know how to write if I was born elsewhere. But proud to be Singaporean? Don't say it in my face. I am used to meeting idiots. Prefer to do this sparingly as I age. Can't handle that much shit like before.