The dragon.
First impressions:
1. Natalie Portman. She was the first advertisement I saw in the Shanghai airport, even before immigration control. Dior's Jewish princess. Welcome to China!
2. Brutal efficiency. Both the flight, and at the airport.
3. What is communism? Is this it? Or if not, what is this?
**
Is China old fashioned? Or is it the future?
I feel like anything I write about China will not do the place justice, and I only saw one corner of one massive (23 million person) city in a nation of many ethnicities and stories and over one billion people. So it is unfair for me to make observations. Only some thoughts from my brief visit.
Being in China made me realize how ... 'light' Singapore is. Singapore, as they say, can 'look' Chinese due to its 75% Han Chinese majority, but it is far, far from China. It is a garden city, it is a colonial city.
China is a great modern empire built upon thousands of years of influential history with its very own, roaring soul.
I was bamboozled, awed, offended, exhausted, invigorated, enlivened, weakened, strengthened, inebriated, and fucked by Shanghai. Not sure what else I can say, other than I would like to go back and slip more deeply into the city. If Shanghai is a pair of clothes, I only picked it up, smelled it, and looked at the price tag. I didn't put it on.
**
Sunday, 23
Shanghai Pudong International Airport
Just took the 300 km / hour 'Maglev' train to the airport, which felt like flying. Not sure if it is necessary, but cool nonetheless. Can't see a maglev in New york or any other America now or in the future. 20+ miles in 7 minutes.
Some concluding thoughts on China / Shanghai, ending my first (and not last) visit.
Shanghai may not be the 'real' China, as the capitalist, global gateway with so much historical (Western) baggage and artifacts. But it certainly has parts of it. Just as New York City may not be the 'real' America, it is, quintessentially, a very American city.
Shanghai feels like 20 world cities jammed into one. New York, Paris, Moscow, Tokyo.
Maddening, frenzied, beautiful, frightening, electric, ugly, creepy, exciting, sad. Futurist. Old fashioned. Dirty, sleek. Fast. Layered. Alive. Excessive. Neon. Obscene. Fantastic.
Shanghai is like an erotic slap in the face when coming from languid, shiny, fine-scented Singapore. Singapore is the nice girl you met at the cotillion, and Shanghai is the whore you keep going back to.
Talk about 'spontaneous pockets of interaction'. Anything goes.
Art deco mansions next to a tea house. Ming dynasty doorway next to a Citibank. An impromptu bluegrass band announcing songs about Nashville in mandarin and then again with an Appalachian twang.
"To what do we compare China?" (ask Logan and Fainstein).
To everything. To ourselves.
Wednesday, 26 September 2012
Little India and the Arts District, 18th Sept
Smells, colors. Saffrons, reds and blues.
Little India is almost everything Singapore isn't. Messy, gritty, dynamic, full of shouts and sensations. As Sharon Zukin might say, "authentic."
Is it this way by accident, or on purpose?
Arts spaces (theatres, studios) coexist with bazaars and jewelry stores and immigrantspaces.
There is a palpable tension here, at least I sensed it - I was yelled at by a visibly agitated and probably insane African woman who said something like "British cannot come here! British passports not welcome here!," looking at me. Good thing I'm not British.
There are surprises here. A beggar in a ditch. Backpackers and hawkers give a somewhat and refreshingly grimy edge that I haven't seen elsewhere on the island. This isn't so different than the (former) Lower East Side of New York or part of East London, with more tropical colors and heat.
That arts groups have 'seeped' into Little India is no accident. The adjoining district is the main Arts District, home to many large museums, galleries, studios, and "SOTA" - Singapore's School of the Arts, in a monumental, architect designed building. The creative vibe probably sought out the Colonial architecture, diversity, and comparatively low rents of the shop-houses as compared to the CBD and Chinatown (which gentrified earlier and more completely).
The museums and the Art School probably have a similar effect on Little India as the Covent Garden / Central St Martin cluster does on surrounding neighbourhoods in London, or the fashion and design schools of the Garment District / Chelsea in Manhattan. Seep, creep.
The "Stamford Arts Village" is a NACS (National Arts Council) sponsored space for performances, rehearsals, props, and storage room for a variety of creative groups that seem to need to audition / submit bids to get space in a competitive process.
Nearby, behind a gallery, I saw graffiti! Real, actual graffiti! albeit in a contained, designated space.
Still, the area and surrounding districts has a certain aura of artistic expression that one does not find on the Esplanade or at Marina Bay, or even in Chinatown, with its chic bars and 'experiential' economy.
These were always the ethnic quarters - Chinese, Indian and Malay, yes, but also Arab, Jewish, Armenian...
History of loud, multi-cultural exchange and dialogue and occasional shouting has left its imprint here and perhaps the embodiment of this history is the Bugis covered market, sort of the Covent Garden of Singapore, with hall after hall of bric a brac, food, colors, sex shops. Altogether wonderful. And delightfully NOT an air-conditioned, marble mall.
**
The tension I wrote about. TC Chang found that there is a tension between the immigrant (working class and poor) community and the hipsters, creative types and backpackers who coexist, each vying to use and even own the space.
Does this represent a Jane Jacobsean healthy mix, or the beginnings of entropy?
This area WILL change - construction indicates the arrival of a new metro line with a number of stations opening in the next 5 years. This will no doubt make the area more accessible and more popular with business types, and may cause a cleaning up of the facades, the replacement of immigrant shops with Starbucks and day spas. I hope this does not happen. I like this chaos and Singapore needs it.
**
Some other observations:
1. Singapore is a small island, but it is bigger that it seems at first! It takes longer to get places than one might expect - upwards of 40 minutes in some cases.
2. One DOES get used to the heat. I have, but only after many back to pack days of being outside. Now I hardly sweat. The weather does seem to have cooled, though, probably due to the beginnings of the (slightly cooler) Northeast monsoon.
3. Singapore can be expensive, but it is fair - tapered to assist those on low incomes, from students to the poor. Food at food stalls is cheap (2-3 pounds) and other things, from phone plans to the public transportation, seem subsidized and much cheaper than I'm used to. It all seems very 'pay as you go' - if you have the money, you can live lavishly, but if you don't, you can live. I like it - very utilitarian. And extends to the housing system, which I've written about already.
That's all for now. Off to China.
Little India is almost everything Singapore isn't. Messy, gritty, dynamic, full of shouts and sensations. As Sharon Zukin might say, "authentic."
Is it this way by accident, or on purpose?
Arts spaces (theatres, studios) coexist with bazaars and jewelry stores and immigrantspaces.
There is a palpable tension here, at least I sensed it - I was yelled at by a visibly agitated and probably insane African woman who said something like "British cannot come here! British passports not welcome here!," looking at me. Good thing I'm not British.
There are surprises here. A beggar in a ditch. Backpackers and hawkers give a somewhat and refreshingly grimy edge that I haven't seen elsewhere on the island. This isn't so different than the (former) Lower East Side of New York or part of East London, with more tropical colors and heat.
That arts groups have 'seeped' into Little India is no accident. The adjoining district is the main Arts District, home to many large museums, galleries, studios, and "SOTA" - Singapore's School of the Arts, in a monumental, architect designed building. The creative vibe probably sought out the Colonial architecture, diversity, and comparatively low rents of the shop-houses as compared to the CBD and Chinatown (which gentrified earlier and more completely).
The museums and the Art School probably have a similar effect on Little India as the Covent Garden / Central St Martin cluster does on surrounding neighbourhoods in London, or the fashion and design schools of the Garment District / Chelsea in Manhattan. Seep, creep.
The "Stamford Arts Village" is a NACS (National Arts Council) sponsored space for performances, rehearsals, props, and storage room for a variety of creative groups that seem to need to audition / submit bids to get space in a competitive process.
Nearby, behind a gallery, I saw graffiti! Real, actual graffiti! albeit in a contained, designated space.
Still, the area and surrounding districts has a certain aura of artistic expression that one does not find on the Esplanade or at Marina Bay, or even in Chinatown, with its chic bars and 'experiential' economy.
These were always the ethnic quarters - Chinese, Indian and Malay, yes, but also Arab, Jewish, Armenian...
History of loud, multi-cultural exchange and dialogue and occasional shouting has left its imprint here and perhaps the embodiment of this history is the Bugis covered market, sort of the Covent Garden of Singapore, with hall after hall of bric a brac, food, colors, sex shops. Altogether wonderful. And delightfully NOT an air-conditioned, marble mall.
**
The tension I wrote about. TC Chang found that there is a tension between the immigrant (working class and poor) community and the hipsters, creative types and backpackers who coexist, each vying to use and even own the space.
Does this represent a Jane Jacobsean healthy mix, or the beginnings of entropy?
This area WILL change - construction indicates the arrival of a new metro line with a number of stations opening in the next 5 years. This will no doubt make the area more accessible and more popular with business types, and may cause a cleaning up of the facades, the replacement of immigrant shops with Starbucks and day spas. I hope this does not happen. I like this chaos and Singapore needs it.
**
Some other observations:
1. Singapore is a small island, but it is bigger that it seems at first! It takes longer to get places than one might expect - upwards of 40 minutes in some cases.
2. One DOES get used to the heat. I have, but only after many back to pack days of being outside. Now I hardly sweat. The weather does seem to have cooled, though, probably due to the beginnings of the (slightly cooler) Northeast monsoon.
3. Singapore can be expensive, but it is fair - tapered to assist those on low incomes, from students to the poor. Food at food stalls is cheap (2-3 pounds) and other things, from phone plans to the public transportation, seem subsidized and much cheaper than I'm used to. It all seems very 'pay as you go' - if you have the money, you can live lavishly, but if you don't, you can live. I like it - very utilitarian. And extends to the housing system, which I've written about already.
That's all for now. Off to China.
Explorations (Sept 15th-Sept 26th)
Catching up some, been exploring.
Fusionopolis: The purpose-built, vertical Silicon Valley of Singapore, home to new-economy sounding firms like Synerges and Connexeties (not real names, but you knowi what I mean). A rooftop 'Fitness First' with a pool. Sleek lobby with Starbucks and a smoothie bar. This is a piece of Palo Alto transplanted and put down in suburban Singapore, and it seems at least half full of Westerners.
This is part of the 1 North development, a massive master planned playground for the 'creative class', abutting the National University, Nanyang University of Technology, Singapore Polytechnic, and an old Colonial neighbourhood of former army barracks called the "Wessex Estate." Singapore's wealthiest and most expatriate-heavy neighbourhoods are not far away to the North in the Tanglin / Orchard / Bukit Timah area.
Who works here? White people with sandals, Seattle types. Lifestyle stores.
Not far away is a new mall (new as in just opened) called "The Star". It was designed by the British architectural firm Aedas and looks like a spaceship. It wouldn't be out of place in a Ridley Scott film.
Inside the sterile spaces of consumption, a live band was playing Disney movie themes. It made me think again of William Gibson's description of Singapore as 'Disneyland with a Death Penalty..."
People show up, in Fusionopolis, to business meetings in shorts and sneakers. They seem to meander around. Working remotely. Palo Alto on the phone.
The Wessex Estate
Thus my interest in the Colonial aesthetic in Singapore begins. It is already the focal point of the creative industries and creative vibe in neighbourhoods such as Little India and Chinatown and the Civic / Arts District in the city centre - shop houses (Edwardian / Victorian terraces) and grander, white buildings of British design.
Here in the suburbs, the Colonial architecture takes the form of re-habbed 'black and white houses', former Army Barracks and the homes and villas of the administrators and civil servants of the Colonial government. The very wealthy lived in grand villas / estates behind gated gardens - these are by and large still occupied by wealthy Singaporeans and expatriates, or have been torn down for bigger and taller things.
The Wessex Estate is a 50 acre (or so) forested plot of attractive but simple 'black and white' army barracks, of Art-Deco and Bauhaus (and Raj) inspired bungalows. Mainly built from the 1930s to the last days of Colonialism in the 1950s.
These are the 'service residential' that is meant to somehow feed into the larger One North development - galleries, day spas, little cutesie design stores and tiny theatre companies. I do not see a connection between this area and the high-rise sleek of Fusionopolis (which is visible over the treeline), other than the fact that they are owned by the same company (the State venture, Jurong Town Development Corporation, or JTC).
This area has clearly been purposefully saved from the wrecking ball and 'maintained' as a creative cluster and heritage zone, evoking a certain nostalgic yesteryear. The question is why, and by whom? Mini coopers and minibikes, some with British ensignia, line the streets. The streets themselves are straight out of Surrey: "Weyhill Court" and "Westbourne Lane".
Lots of British mummies in fancy cars waiting to pick their blond children up from the school, the Tanglin School, which seems judging by the cars and the security, to be very posh, and probably a 'go to school' for wealthy Britons for many years.
"Workloft at Wessex" is the name of the community of live-work (or just work?) residences here, with names such as "Centre Stage School of Art". I wonder who works here and will need to seek them out for interviews.
The whole vibe is very British, in a Raj or Caribbean sort of way. Interesting that it evokes 'other' places.
Construction seems to be encroaching though, and the yesteryear character of Wessex Estate does seem slightly precarious, as Lily Kong wrote some years back. The sheer scale of these new developments and multilane freeways makes low-density residential seem quaint and conspicuous.
Wessex Village Square
The hub of Wessex Estate is a small collection of restaurants, cafes and hang out spots. These are 'woodsy chic' and probably not a particularly cheap beer or coffee. though I need to find out.
Though these seem at first like little neighbourhood organic spaces, the 'One North' logo is displayed on the sign, showing that this, too, is part of the master plan, and owned / operated by the Jurong Town Corporation, and therefore, indirectly, the Government of Singapore. So grassroots this is not.
At 3pm, some woodsy types are hanging out, but nobody else. This must be a weekend and after work spot.
"Laurent's Cafe and Chocolate Bar." Who goes to a chocolate bar?
And an italian restaurant called Pietrasanta.
"Asian Inspired Art and Living!" says another place. Asian inspired? Or British inspired Asian Inspired British inspired etc etc
The Col Bar
The Col Bar, short for 'Colonial Bar', is a hole in wall porch with a bar attached. I found it closed during siesta time. But certainly had a mess hall, summer camp sort of feel. Some black and white community post its and notes on a message board, some Heineken beer mats strewn about. Must be enticing on a warm night with friends.
And yet.
An information wall on the back of the building told the story of the Col Bar, and, as I read, I realized this is a reconstructed building (recently) made to mimic the original, which was destroyed in 2003 for a freeway expansion.
In 1953, this was a canteen for a 2600 acre British military base, and in these dying days of the British rule, was named 'Colonial Bar.'
It was, as the info-plaque reads, a "Gastronomical Oasis for Liver and Onions and Lamb Chops."
**
In 2003, the building was torn down, but SAVED!!! By the Jurong Town Development Corporation (JTC).
The Dis-Assembled Colonial Bar was Re-assembled, wooden plank by plank, on Whitchurch Road in its current location. It reads:
..."The Intrinsic Soul of the place" was re-created and replicated "close to exact."
This to me seems fascinating: A shoddy, un-impressive structure which symbolized the British military rule of Singapore, which isn't TERRIBLY historical (post war, not pre war), was carefully reconstructed to become a modern day symbol of, what? The Creative Class? And if so, why does the British Imperialism of yesterday symbolize the Creative Class in Singapore? This, I think, is the crux of my PhD. Why is it important to preserve buildings that represent a contested time in Singaporean history - one that featured violent protests and a long and difficult independence movement?
Singapore 'broke free' of its Colonial shackles in 1959 and set out to build something new - and yet here, carefully reconstructed, is the old British mess hall. Meant to attract Seattle types, their dogs, and their blond children.
Reopened 25 February, 2004
**
Ersatz Colonialism. What does that say about modern Singapore? Or an aesthetic that reflects Singapore's national ideology, and neo-confucian ideals?
**
Fusionopolis: The purpose-built, vertical Silicon Valley of Singapore, home to new-economy sounding firms like Synerges and Connexeties (not real names, but you knowi what I mean). A rooftop 'Fitness First' with a pool. Sleek lobby with Starbucks and a smoothie bar. This is a piece of Palo Alto transplanted and put down in suburban Singapore, and it seems at least half full of Westerners.
This is part of the 1 North development, a massive master planned playground for the 'creative class', abutting the National University, Nanyang University of Technology, Singapore Polytechnic, and an old Colonial neighbourhood of former army barracks called the "Wessex Estate." Singapore's wealthiest and most expatriate-heavy neighbourhoods are not far away to the North in the Tanglin / Orchard / Bukit Timah area.
Who works here? White people with sandals, Seattle types. Lifestyle stores.
Not far away is a new mall (new as in just opened) called "The Star". It was designed by the British architectural firm Aedas and looks like a spaceship. It wouldn't be out of place in a Ridley Scott film.
Inside the sterile spaces of consumption, a live band was playing Disney movie themes. It made me think again of William Gibson's description of Singapore as 'Disneyland with a Death Penalty..."
People show up, in Fusionopolis, to business meetings in shorts and sneakers. They seem to meander around. Working remotely. Palo Alto on the phone.
The Wessex Estate
Thus my interest in the Colonial aesthetic in Singapore begins. It is already the focal point of the creative industries and creative vibe in neighbourhoods such as Little India and Chinatown and the Civic / Arts District in the city centre - shop houses (Edwardian / Victorian terraces) and grander, white buildings of British design.
Here in the suburbs, the Colonial architecture takes the form of re-habbed 'black and white houses', former Army Barracks and the homes and villas of the administrators and civil servants of the Colonial government. The very wealthy lived in grand villas / estates behind gated gardens - these are by and large still occupied by wealthy Singaporeans and expatriates, or have been torn down for bigger and taller things.
The Wessex Estate is a 50 acre (or so) forested plot of attractive but simple 'black and white' army barracks, of Art-Deco and Bauhaus (and Raj) inspired bungalows. Mainly built from the 1930s to the last days of Colonialism in the 1950s.
These are the 'service residential' that is meant to somehow feed into the larger One North development - galleries, day spas, little cutesie design stores and tiny theatre companies. I do not see a connection between this area and the high-rise sleek of Fusionopolis (which is visible over the treeline), other than the fact that they are owned by the same company (the State venture, Jurong Town Development Corporation, or JTC).
This area has clearly been purposefully saved from the wrecking ball and 'maintained' as a creative cluster and heritage zone, evoking a certain nostalgic yesteryear. The question is why, and by whom? Mini coopers and minibikes, some with British ensignia, line the streets. The streets themselves are straight out of Surrey: "Weyhill Court" and "Westbourne Lane".
Lots of British mummies in fancy cars waiting to pick their blond children up from the school, the Tanglin School, which seems judging by the cars and the security, to be very posh, and probably a 'go to school' for wealthy Britons for many years.
"Workloft at Wessex" is the name of the community of live-work (or just work?) residences here, with names such as "Centre Stage School of Art". I wonder who works here and will need to seek them out for interviews.
The whole vibe is very British, in a Raj or Caribbean sort of way. Interesting that it evokes 'other' places.
Construction seems to be encroaching though, and the yesteryear character of Wessex Estate does seem slightly precarious, as Lily Kong wrote some years back. The sheer scale of these new developments and multilane freeways makes low-density residential seem quaint and conspicuous.
Wessex Village Square
The hub of Wessex Estate is a small collection of restaurants, cafes and hang out spots. These are 'woodsy chic' and probably not a particularly cheap beer or coffee. though I need to find out.
Though these seem at first like little neighbourhood organic spaces, the 'One North' logo is displayed on the sign, showing that this, too, is part of the master plan, and owned / operated by the Jurong Town Corporation, and therefore, indirectly, the Government of Singapore. So grassroots this is not.
At 3pm, some woodsy types are hanging out, but nobody else. This must be a weekend and after work spot.
"Laurent's Cafe and Chocolate Bar." Who goes to a chocolate bar?
And an italian restaurant called Pietrasanta.
"Asian Inspired Art and Living!" says another place. Asian inspired? Or British inspired Asian Inspired British inspired etc etc
The Col Bar
The Col Bar, short for 'Colonial Bar', is a hole in wall porch with a bar attached. I found it closed during siesta time. But certainly had a mess hall, summer camp sort of feel. Some black and white community post its and notes on a message board, some Heineken beer mats strewn about. Must be enticing on a warm night with friends.
And yet.
An information wall on the back of the building told the story of the Col Bar, and, as I read, I realized this is a reconstructed building (recently) made to mimic the original, which was destroyed in 2003 for a freeway expansion.
In 1953, this was a canteen for a 2600 acre British military base, and in these dying days of the British rule, was named 'Colonial Bar.'
It was, as the info-plaque reads, a "Gastronomical Oasis for Liver and Onions and Lamb Chops."
**
In 2003, the building was torn down, but SAVED!!! By the Jurong Town Development Corporation (JTC).
The Dis-Assembled Colonial Bar was Re-assembled, wooden plank by plank, on Whitchurch Road in its current location. It reads:
..."The Intrinsic Soul of the place" was re-created and replicated "close to exact."
This to me seems fascinating: A shoddy, un-impressive structure which symbolized the British military rule of Singapore, which isn't TERRIBLY historical (post war, not pre war), was carefully reconstructed to become a modern day symbol of, what? The Creative Class? And if so, why does the British Imperialism of yesterday symbolize the Creative Class in Singapore? This, I think, is the crux of my PhD. Why is it important to preserve buildings that represent a contested time in Singaporean history - one that featured violent protests and a long and difficult independence movement?
Singapore 'broke free' of its Colonial shackles in 1959 and set out to build something new - and yet here, carefully reconstructed, is the old British mess hall. Meant to attract Seattle types, their dogs, and their blond children.
Reopened 25 February, 2004
**
Ersatz Colonialism. What does that say about modern Singapore? Or an aesthetic that reflects Singapore's national ideology, and neo-confucian ideals?
**
Friday, 14 September 2012
Raffles
Raffles (Thursday, 13th)
Sitting in a café in the lush and
aristocratic old British quarter (in the vicinity of the Raffles Hotel), makes
me realize how wide the gap is between the colonial / cosmopolitan centre of
S’pre and the largely Asian ‘Heartland’.
The Raffles itself is the mirror
to Clementi’s “everyday” ness: It’s columns, lawns and fountains ooze an older,
more contested time when the British ruled on Cunard lines, shot tigers in
exotic places, and drank gin mixed with Brandy and local fruit and sugars (the
Singapore Sling, invented at the Raffles by a local Bartender, in 1919). Amidst
the black and white photos in the hotels’ small museum are pieces of Singapore
of yesterday – only pieces of which still exist (in pieces). As it
happens, I missed the Duke and Dutchess
of Cambridge by only a few hours – unaware that they were in Singapore until I
saw reports from a British paper.
This coffee shop could just as
easily be in London, with a view of such a mix of people, shade trees, and
Victorian architecture. An orthodox Jewish couple and child in the queue are a
testament to the cultural diversity of this district, the former Colonial precinct
(probably always largely for and by non-Asians).
A tale of two Islands
It should be noted that two major
world events occurred in 1959. One was the Marxist revolution and military coup
d’etat on a tropical Island and the exodus of the elite. The other was the
independence of another tropical island from its Colonial administrator of
nearly 150 years.
The first, Cuba, went on to
become an egalitarian, if shabby and paint-peeling Marxist society, which, 50
years later, remains (relatively) true to its revolutionary roots. Despite
widespread poverty and occasional food shortages and failing infrastructure,
Cuba has near universal literacy, fine health care, racial and cultural
diversity and a ‘high’ level of overall happiness (index, citation).
The second tropical Island,
Singapore, went on to develop into one of the wealthiest, and unequal,
societies in the world. It is, fifty years after its independence from Britain,
a tightly-managed, highly modern and developed financial and logistics hub with
fine research universities. It has, like Cuba, high levels of adequate housing,
healthcare, education, and overall happiness and contentment. The difference,
however, is that the rich got richer – much richer – and Singapore today has
the highest wealth gap in the world, according to some indices (citation).
Unlike Cuba, Singapore must import huge percentages of foreign labor –both
manual and elite –to sustain itself as it currently exists. The elite imported
labor lives in expensive private housing with prices and amenities not unlike
London or Manhattan (or Hong Kong).
The poor imported labor lives either in the worst and most ill-located State Housing (HDB) or in dormitories set up by their employer – temporary accommodation often with poor or no air conditioning and questionable cleanliness.
The poor imported labor lives either in the worst and most ill-located State Housing (HDB) or in dormitories set up by their employer – temporary accommodation often with poor or no air conditioning and questionable cleanliness.
Two tropical islands, shaping
their own destinies from 1959 to 2012. Yet evolved so differently.
Singapura
Friday,
September 14th: Melaya and Singapura
Two museums in particular were
important in contextualising Singapore this week. The first was the National
Museum of Singapore, with a wonderful exhibit on Singapore’s history. The
second was the Museum of Asian Civilisations, set in the rambling halls of the
old Parliament House on the river.
I will not go into what I learned
about Singapore’s history in detail here, but just draw out some important and
over-arching themes and points that I found particularly interesting and
relevant to my research.
Firstly: the context of the 1940s
and 1950s, when Singapore ‘fought’ (without fighting) for its independence from
Britain and began forming the ideology, outlook, and political structure of the
modern state.
Secondly, the layers upon layers
of history here in this ‘place where the trade winds end’.
On the first note: I am better
understanding the PAP and why Singapore ‘is’ the way it is due to what happened
in the 1940s and 1950s. Notably, the war – and the Japanese Occupation; the
‘Merdaka’ movement for Malayan independence from London, and the nascent
political ideology of both the People’s Action Party (capitalist / socialist
democracy) and the socialist / communist / more radical forces that were also
at work during the time (and are now embedded in Singapore as well).
What I found particularly
interesting was that Singapore was born out of, and the PAP party a direct
result of, anti-Western and Anti-imperialist sentiment: the rolling back of
Western (particularly British) influence and control was central to the
movement in the 1940s and 1950s. In fact, in its early days, the PAP had many
radical elements and Singapore was really only ‘allowed’ its independence when
it could prove to the British (and probably the CIA) that it would be a Bulwark
AGAINST communism and would strongly stifle any communist discord.
It would be no Indochine, it
promised.
Which is interesting given that
from the 1980s onward, Western ideas and competition with the West has been
increasingly prominent in Singapore.
A. Where
have those radical, Marxist forces gone within Singapore? Do they still exist?
If so, in what forms? In what neighbourhoods?
B. Or
will / has the PAP itself changed / reformed enough to ‘absorb’ these more
radical ideas and forces?
C. .
Did London begin to re-assert its influence, control in ‘other ways’ from the
‘Big Bang’ of the 1980s, in the form of ever more important financial and
policy ties? And, specific to me, is the ‘Creative City’ one of those forms of
‘new Colonialism?’
D. .
Or, on the other hand, did Singapore, after ‘shedding itself’ of British
control, turn back toward Britain / the West on its own accord? Did the rise of
the neoliberal state in the 1980s cause Singapore to re-integrate itself in
many ways with both the economic orthodoxy of the West and also certain strands
of political / cultural ideology, such as the Creative City?
E. If
Singapore was ‘Born’ out of strikes, protests, labor unions and movements, etc,
striving for equality, better housing, education, and representation *(in 1940s
and 1950s), then will the current “Money obsessed” (internet quote) neoliberal
state be the ‘death’ of Singapore? Has it been recolonized? (similar question
to above)
F. Is
the ‘Soul’ of Singapore a free-trading, unequal, port city, or a communist one?
Can these two ‘souls’ exist?
G. Is
the threat of communism / unrest / revolution still there?
H. What
does the relationship with Communist China mean for Singapore – in terms of
political ideology? Social / Cultural ideology?
II. Early
Singapore v. Later Singapore
Early Singapore
(1950s – 1970s)
Housing /
Infrastructure improvements
Egalitarian
Racial mixing /
ideology of diversity, tolerance and nationhood
Sports, cultural
activities
Later Singaore
(1980s-Present)
Neoliberal
Growing
inequality (Dhamani – citation)
Gentrification?
Growing
influence of ‘creative city’ and continued links to London + Wall Street
Reliance on
Foreign labor – tension
Reinforcement of
Anglo / American / Chinese Elite?
III. Is ‘creative
city’ / ‘Experiential city’ (TC Chang, 2012) a ‘playground’ for Singapore’s new
and old elite?
More Questions:
1. Why
was Singapore so eager to embrace foreign influence from the 1980s (or why were
these foreign influences so eager to embrace Singapore?) when the early
nation-building rejected these exogenous influences? (1950s // 1960s)
2. Why
is / wasn’t Singapore satisfied with being a quasi-socialist, semi-developed
welfare state (a slightly better Cuba?) Why transition to neoliberal, unequal
State?
Wednesday, 12 September 2012
Post 1: Arrival and Early Observations
The Singapore Diaries: Observations of a Multinational
1. Plastic Apples: Arrival and First Impressions
Wednesday, September 5th I arrived on a Qantas Airlines A380 from London, the new double-decker plane. An Australian airline filled mostly with Australians, I began to get a sense of the spheres of influence in the non-British, non-American corner of the world. Australia, it seems, spreads its influence deep into the airline hubs of South East Asia, crucial stopovers on the way to Europe and beyond. My first impression of Singapore, as is the case with most cities, is the airport. Unremarkable other than its calm and quiet – “There are no announcements in Singapore airport”, said a member of the flight crew. Would that be too unruly?
Inside the terminal was an assortment of Easterners and Westerners, ladies with headscarves, businessmen talking into mobile phones, and backpackers on their way to here or there. A microcosm, perhaps, of the Port of Singapore, a collector of people and things from anywhere on their way to anywhere, but only here (whatever here is), briefly.
The equatorial heat. It doesn’t so much as ‘hit you’ as embrace you like a humid hug. It got into my nostrils and organs immediately. It does, to use a cliché, feel like being inside a greenhouse at a botanical garden, though inverted: outside is the greenhouse, and inside, the sterile air conditioning. The air smelled of burning: I was told later this is the season of wildfires in the rainforests of Indonesia, which lead to haze and poor air quality in Singapore. Still, it gave Singapore a ‘smell’ which I will always associate with my first days there. The road from the airport to the city gave my first glimpse of the ‘garden’ that is Singapore: a sort of Le Corbusien urban landscape of unremarkable, homogenous high-rises set above carefully landscaped gardens and large, mature trees. Altogether attractive and seductive, if rather bland. Each bend in the road reveals a similar scene, there are not many landmarks and the topography is flat. There are, however, some exceptions. Getting closer to the ‘city’ revealed a towering, unique skyline and the signature Marina Bay Sands hotel and Esplanade performing arts centre which together give Singapore a ‘heart’ not unlike the great front doors of Millennium Park in Chicago or New York’s Battery.
It was not long before I discovered my first Hawker Centre – the ubiquitous food courts in Singapore that serve everything from recognizable chains (Wendys, McDonalds) to local food vendors with Indonesian, Malaysian, Chinese, and ‘Western’ options. I had a ‘Congee’ for dinner (which is a slimy soup) which settled my stomach and a sort of puff pastry.
I settled into my hotel room and began the task of orienting myself and overcoming jetlag, whilst keeping up with the American politics entering an electoral frenzy. My first full day in Singapore involved travelling to my ‘home’ for 6 months, the graduate housing at the National University, and getting registered and administered on campus. I found the campus and associated infrastructure not unlike other universities, if more contextual to tropical geography and Asian-style green glass high rises. The student body is mixed, like the city itself, Eastern and Western. Blond hair and straight dark, German being spoken and Mandarin. I was ‘processed’ at various departments and could not figure out if the bureaucracy of the university was uniquely Singaporean, or similar to the often baffling bureaucratic processes at universities in the West (King’s and Cornell, much the same). “Go here” said one person, when I asked where a certain store was, selling a cable I needed for my laptop. Once there, someone else said “Not here, go there.” And so on. Sort of Orwellian and Terry Gilliam-esque, this place where nobody knows everything, only what they are expected to know. Ask beyond the script, and they scratch their head. Is this endemic to Singapore, or only to clerical staff at this (and perhaps all ) universities?
Walking in the heat, unaccustomed to it, is a struggle. It is deceptive: the temperature is no hotter than a hot London day or certainly the North Carolina summers I grew up with. But the humidity is extreme, and the heat pervades, slows, and wilts. One begins to feel an almost malarial delirium. The pace of the place has been described as a ‘languid Hong Kong’, and I see this.
What is real? It is hard to discern, so early in my journey here, what is Singaporean, and what is not. What is real, unique, and what is false? The place names are English (Kent, Commonwealth, Dover). The architecture is institutional. The food, pan-Asian. The vegetation is tropical, but could just as easily be Panama or the Congo. The streetscape is vaguely Panama City, minus the slums and beggars. The buses are double-decker. Is this a tropical Vancouver, an Equatorial Seoul? What IS Singapore? Is it defined by this definitive mix of things, or is there a soul buried deep in the dense vegetation, ensconced within the customised interiors of the unremarkable high rises?
As I waited in the air conditioned office of the ‘management’ of my graduate residence hall for various paperwork to be filled out, I walked over to what appeared to be a basket of juicy, ripe, green apples. Eager for a snack and a quick boost of blood sugar, I picked one up. Giggles from the management desk. “They are plastic apples”, said the student assistant. Looking closer, I saw that they were not real apples at all.
2. Clementi: The Heartland (September 6th)
I have read about a certain divide within Singapore, between the ‘City’ and the ‘Heartland.’ The City is cosmopolitan and global; creative and connected. The ‘Heartland’ is more conservative, traditional, and largely Chinese, with regional Asian minorities (but few Westerners). There is, according to local literature, a clash of values and ideals between the outwardly focused ‘City’ and the more inwardly focused Heartland. My PhD thesis focuses on this clash, in terms of how policy relates to the differences within and across Singaporean society and Singaporean neighbourhoods.
The overriding policy set is one relating to ‘creativity’, a word that has come to associated with ‘being’ cosmopolitan, ‘being’ progressive, and looking outward toward global influences, rather than inward. How are ideas that come from other places interpreted in Singapore? And within Singapore, how are ideas interpreted in the ‘cosmopolitan’ City Centre, verses the traditional heartland? The National University of Singapore is certainly a cosmopolitan and connected enclave in Singapore, with its microcosm of students, researchers and faculty from all over the world. It continues to gain accolades for its academic excellence, and its research standing sees it crawling into the top 30 global universities. Geographically, however, it is somewhat disconnected from the global ‘hub’ of Singapore’s ‘city’, and surrounded by what seem to be more traditional, middle and lower-middle class ‘heartland’ neighbourhoods. Surely the faculty and research staff live nearby, but the university itself seems more or less self-contained.
Walking outside the confines of the university campus, searching for some amenities I needed such as a pillow, instant coffee, a spoon and sunscreen, I quickly found myself in a disorientating suburban landscape of wide roads and repetitive housing blocks. This, Western Singapore, is how most Singaporeans live and these spaces are the most common in the City-State. Clementi is a town centre focused around a transport station (Clementi MRT and bus interchange). Like most ‘neo urban’ town centres, there is a modern mall adjacent to the MRT station, then some lower-rise, older shopping and entertainment spaces, including some bric a brac market stalls (useful for the home-wares I was looking for) and a number of food courts (hawker centres) with everything from traditional Chinese restaurants to air conditioned frozen yoghurt shops.
Surrounding the town centre are lumpy clusters of high-rise housing estates that seemed neither rich nor poor, though in various states of presentation: some look nicer than others, some are clearly very new and others are 20 to even 30 years old. These are the homes of mid-level pencil pushers and clerical workers, lower-level assistances, and in the older, less-plushly landscaped towers, probably immigrants and domestic workers, construction laborers, and even PhD students. I realized, walking around, that I have found one of my case study sites. I was looking for a site of ‘average, everday’ Singapore, the kind of place and space in which the majority live, shop, and hang out. The Heartland. And Clementi, only a few blocks from the National University’s rarefied air, is the Heartland. In one of the shopping centres I passed a chi chi looking restaurant that seemed out of place: a slick sushi house that could have been mistaken for Nobu or something in London’s West End. A sign out front said “Bringing the ‘City Experience’ to the Heartland.” A ha. How, then, are urban policies promoting cosmopolitanism and ‘creativity’ brought to the ‘Heartland?’ and How are they interpreted, used, and performed? Are they ignored? Contested? Subverted? Discarded, or disliked?
These are the types of things I will be looking for in my walks and observations. On my walk back from Clementi to the National University’s cluster of graduate housing, darkness had fallen, and I lost my bearings. I passed Mosques and saw men at their evening prayers. I passed schools, some with English names (Holy Cross) and others with Mandarin characters. I waited at huge intersections, given only seconds to cross 8 lanes of traffic.
Weighed down by the evening humidity and the sameness of the landscape, I slowly realized I had no idea how to get back. An urban landscape so devoid of difference and remarkable landscapes, possible to navigate during the day, suddenly became impossible at night. I was lost. After walking in what seemed like two circles and ready to hail a cab, I finally realized that I could see the towers of the National University (amongst the hundreds of other towers) and found my way back. Exhausted and sweating, carrying several bags of spoons, coffee cups, deodorant and sunblock, I swiped my access card and left South East Asia as I re-entered global academia.
I passed by the Yale University dorms, and noticed two very preppy looking blond men practicing racquetball or squash (or something) in a multi-purpose sports hall. What a strange place, so different and yet so similar, seemingly no place and yet all places at once. Walking through Singapore is like walking from the tropics to London, from Indonesia to China, from colonialism to post colonialism in the space of a few miles. A wonderful place to study urbanism and urban processes, a fact I already knew based on my reading but reinforced through only one day of wandering. No need to compare other cities to Singapore when it can be compared over and over again, in so many ways, with itself. What secrets are here? What answers?
3. Be Creative, Be Spontaneous (7th Sept)
One of the new high rises in the ‘University Town’ extension of NUS has the giant letters “CREATE” on it (Which is an acronym for whatever activities take place within the building, Centre for Researcher Excellence and something or other). I found this interesting given the topic of my research. Create, ok, but what? It is not hard to see creativity in various forms in Singapore, even based on the two days I have yet been here. The hawker centres, for example: these are all similar in layout and offering, but offer little variations that make them all interesting , unique, and different. Each food stall has a twist, a slightly different display, a slightly different recipe. One might have boxes of beers arranged in a certain way; dishes displayed in a particular way to entice passerbys. Conversations differ from table to table; westerners mingle with each other over some beers at once, while a family sits, speaking Mandarin, at another. Are these the ‘unofficial’ sites of creativity in Singapore? Hawker centres might be the most Singaporean assemblage. Yet what goes on within the monolithic housing estates requires a careful unpeeling. Are there starving artists within them? Are there discussions about culture? And what kind of discussions? What kind of culture?
4. Influences
Early on, I am getting a sense of the spheres of influence here. Picture a people-less patch of mud, rainforest and swamps. This came first. Then the Malay Kings and the conquering Pirates of this jungle Archipelago. Then the Chinese and the British (19th Century). These two influences are still strong and manifest physically and culturally in all walks of life. The Muslim influence is also very present, from 21st century Malaysia and Indonesia, with headscarves, mosques and Madrassas a visible minority presence. This cultural aspect will come across in various ways. Indians (very dark, visibly from the South and Sri Lanka) are also common, both as students / researchers / faculty and also as poorer laborers (seemingly much of the construction workforce). They are Hindu (recognizable from the forehead markings) and therefore would be culturally more tied into the Hindu world than the Muslim (or Confucian). The Western influence is mixed British, European, Australian, and American. So far, European and Australian seem to be, at least visibly, more influential than American. This comes as a bit of a surprise, given the strength and reach of American academia and business. But the American end may simply be newer, and Australia, at least geographically, is closer. It may be more common for Australian students to head to Singapore given the relative paucity of Australian universities. And a 10 hour plane ride is easier than 2 days of travel (necessary for British or American).
It will be interesting to see if this might change given the recent announcement for Qantas airlines to move their hub from Singapore to Dubai. What is the importance of airline hubs / flows / networks? Given Singapore’s historical role as a ‘port’ of various forms, it could be very important indeed. There are other influences.
I picked up a flier for an Israeli Film Festival, of all things (there is, and has always been, a Jewish community here - as there is in all trading ports, from Mumbai to Panama City). Israel and Singapore though are linked in other ways - small in land, compulsory military service, creativity in water and resources, surrounded by Muslim nations, a high-tech economy, both new nations (Israel since 1948 and Singapore since 1965). Interesting. The question in terms of policy mobilities and assemblages then becomes, what is more influential in Singapore: physical movements of people (those coming here to study and work, those travelling to and from) versus the immaterial movement of IDEAS (on the internet, from research, etc?). More on this later.
5. Wanderings. Saturday, 8th September.
A. Day
Chinatown Peeling Colonial buildings next to crossfit gyms. Little Buddhist Temples smelling of incense next to Digital Media companies and male grooming spas. White Westerners jog by as a Chinese man brushes his teeth using a pail of wash water in a back alley. Dead cockroaches hide next to the pedestal of a trendy coffee shop, with newspaper clippings and accolades in the window. Restaurants called “Beaujolais” and ‘The Club” next to old Chinese women making cakes and dumplings and selling bric a brac,.
The 'City'
The ‘City’ everywhere looks and feels the same. Singapore, Canary Wharf, Chicago on a hot day. The glass buildings, brands, the streets, the plazas and the ‘lunch courts’ all look and feel the same and render context and latitude obsolete. Without the views of the water or Mandarin-covered shopfronts, Singapore is Midtown Manhattan, ‘The Loop’ Chicago, Charlotte, and Downtown Sydney. Sri Lankan and / or Bangladeshi men sitting on sidewalks without their shoes, eating lunch with their hands. They, with their bright shirts, dark skin, and saffron food, are the only real color, disorder, and spontaneity amidst the city’s monolithic nothingness and unrecognizable everywhereness.
B. Night
Singapore glistens, twinkles, pulses at night, and the centre of the activity is Chinatown. Those that come to see and be seen fill the tropical evening like fireflies. Gays saunter next to packs of tourists, locals and expats alike amidst architecture that, especially at night, evokes Colonial romance (even if it is at time erzats). This must be Singapore at its best, its most fun – away from the relentless heat of midday and the corporate lunch. Is a Saturday evening Singapore’s soul? And it started to rain. Big, fat raindrops the size of dimes, that wet you to the core immediately, and it feels wonderful and cleansing. The pores clear, sweat washes away and the rain even tastes good. Running, I get to the air conditioned and spotless MRT just as my shirt begins to soak. And smiling.
6. Cruel Heat, Cruel Bureaucracy (Tuesday, 12th September)
Martha Stewart (yes, that Martha Stewart), remarked about Singapore’s ‘Cruel Heat’ upon a recent visit (Straits Times). Locals got defensive. Martha’s sentiment was pure. To me, coming from a ‘never too hot, never too cold’ London, Singapore’s equatorial humidity is all encompassing. It’s not unlike a North Carolina August afternoon, except it is that way every single day of the year. Evenings are bearable, even pleasant; so are mornings.
But midday can be deceptive – the sun and twinkling palms beckons one outdoors, yet even a short walk can drain me of energy so much that taking a step becomes difficult. It is not just the heat; it is the constant switching into the falsely cool and dry world of air conditioning, on which this nation relies (even with the fans, human-propelled in Victorian times; the Verandas, the rainy evenings, I cannot fathom how over-dressed Victorians settled here before the air conditioning). My body tires from switching cool to hot and I have been falling asleep before 10pm each night. Perhaps this is a natural tropical rhythm I will get used to, perhaps over time my body will adjust. While I’ve convinced myself that I need the air conditioning (I am not sorry that I paid extra for it), another part of me realizes that I’d adjust faster and feel better outside if I had only a fan (which really is sufficient). The Singaporeans wear sweatshirts and fashionable London clothes about town. Even dark colors. I cannot believe how they do it don’t sweat. But, if this is all the body knows… four seasons and a biting winter wind is probably as foreign to them as this heat is to me.
I have spent the past week getting used to my surroundings and acclimatizing in more ways than one. I have made an effort to walk around the city centre and the ‘main’ Central areas, and have covered a fair bit of ground. The only significant portion yet missing is Little India, as well as the Eastern Beaches. I will save this for when I need to head that way anyway to apply for my student pass at the ICA – Immigration and Customs Authority. Which brings me to my next point – er gripe.
Singapore’s famously fastidious and slow-moving, Terry Gilliam-esque paper-pushing, pencil grinding bureaucracy has not yet annoyed me (it seemed friendly and efficient!) until now. It seems like every decision – every question – every ok and process – runs up against a ‘do not ask questions, do not seek alternative routes’ system which would be maddening long term.
For example: I’ve learned to always carry my passport and bank details, for these are apparently needed for purchases including a cheap throw away phone. By the time I’m finished, every business in Singapore will have a scanned copy of my passport photo. Which would unsettle me if it wasn’t Singapore, and I didn’t already assume I was being monitored. Another example: my student pass. The ‘Student Pass’ is basically an extended visa for those studying here for a period longer than the 3 months allocated for a regular visit. Seems simple enough. I had begun the application process (and paid the money) over the summer, and was prepared to “Complete the formalities’” this week by showing up at the ICA and submitting my paperwork.
Wrong. It turns out that because I arrived later in Singapore, my application had expired (and I lost all $30!). Therefore, I had to begin the process all over again, and pay another $30. As of this writing, I am still waiting for my (second) application for a student pass to be processed and I am unsure whether or not I will be in possession of my passport for my planned trip to China next week, or whether I am breaking some (death penalty inviting) rule by simply existing in the country without my pass at this point. I suppose I will find out after the line-managers of State Affairs have all played a round of Chinese Whispers and get back to me.
***
Singlish. Singlish is not English. It is the local patois, a pidgin English combined with every other ‘ethnic seasoning’ here, Malay, Mandarin, probably bits and pieces of Javanese and Tamil thrown in for good measure. It is often indecipherable. If the majority of locals speak and understand English, which I’m sure they do, they often throw their hands up at my careful accent and toss back something mumbled and spoken in low tones. Perhaps I should work on my Singlish if I hope to communicate with locals here during my ethnography and interviews.
I’m learning how to ‘get around the system’. Shh, don’t tell anyone. I’ve started jaywalking. It’s too hot for me to walk all the way up or down hill to the official ‘crossings’, so I’ve started to cross the street when I please. I’ve seen other people do it, and they haven’t been carted away by men in a black truck. The Graduate Club. A lovely-looking, air conditioned gym and pool, the kind of place I could take my mom if she came to visit. Palms, bouganvillia and the clinking of real silverware. To join, though, one has to be in Singapore for ‘At least a year.’ So, that’s how long I’ll be here (shh!) if it means I get to swim in and lie by a nice pool.
Still , some questions can’t be asked, and some rules can’t be broken. For example, back to the ICA and my student pass: asked the university registrar to the bureaucrat, “Can the student simply bring his stamped, expired letter to the ministry for his student pass, and can he get a refund for the application he already had processed?” Curt reply: “No, the student cannot.” Such is life in a managerial State.
7. William Gibson and ‘Disneyland with a Death Penalty’
The British science fiction novelist William Gibson said of Singapore that it resembled what a country would look like if entirely possessed by IBM. Another writer called Singapore ‘Disneyland with a death penalty.’ Yes, the penalty for smuggling drugs into Singapore is death. Which is harsh, no doubt about it. But I have seen enough day laborers napping on hot sidewalks, (small) piles of trash and even (yes!) some graffiti to remark that Gibson is being typically British about a former colony.
In fact, Singapore does not really run any more efficiently than other cities of this size – it has problems with traffic, pollution, social tensions, housing prices, and even some blight and buildings in a state of disrepair. If it is run by a computer, then it is run by an imperfect one.
The people that I have observed, walking about the streets, coming to and from the gym staring into their pads and pods and phones, standing in clumps on the Metro, seem very serious. There does not seem to be a whole lot of spontaneous laughter. This is true even on campus, with its relative diversity and large American / European / Australian community. Serious students! Serious conversations. Theories: this is a financial center, and many of the workers I’ve seen, students I’ve observed and even academics are related to business and the other ‘serious’ disciplines. Read: there aren’t a lot of hippies here, or the types of groups / activities / clubs / neighborhoods that attract hippies. There isn’t any cocaine (maybe some in elite circles) and very little ‘hard’ drinking. No marijuana to speak of. Some cigarette smokers. Does this lack of inebriation and other vices ‘erase’ the haphazard laughter, boisterous braying and annoying shrieking so common to British and American cities? Or is the reason cultural? (Confucian, Buddhist, Muslim traditions of quiet conversation and general calm?) Or, as I perceived above, does it relate to the percent of ‘serious’ MBAs more concerned with learning how to trade oil and futures than having fun?
The memory of Michael Fay, the American douchebag who famously was caned 12 times due to drunk and disorderly conduct, may be fresh in people’s minds. Laugh, but not too loud: have fun, but not too much. On one hand, the quiet, respectful demeanor is refreshing, especially coming from the bottle-smashing, fight and booze splattered streets of British central cities, so full of street piss and piles of garbage that it becomes noxious. There are no crackheads asking for money (and I haven’t seen an opium den). It is equally, however, unsettling. The calm and quiet, combined with the heavy, oppressive air and humidity, must cause a breaking point in some. The rigidness is yes, distinctly Asian (Chinese) but also carries over a leftover of Victorian British repression – a possibly fateful combination that I think explains much about the City-State.
There are, as I have mentioned, exceptions and dots of color and surprises, and these tend to be the other ethnicities. Namely, Indian – who seem to have a spice that is slightly more romantic, smiling, embracing, and warm. Not to trade stereotypes here. But this does perhaps come from Indian social and cultural traditions, the traditions of communal, inclusive dining (such as at a Sikh Temple). And the great Indian ‘fete’, the lavish wedding, the happy dancing and celebrations.
The Western expatriates, as I mentioned, so far do not seem to breathe a celebratory and spontaneous air into things. Quite the opposite, they seem as driven, serious, and reserved as the Singaporeans. New mothers seriously pushing serious babies. Bored and rather lonely looking white bankers, perhaps checking out dating sites on whatever flat pad pod they are using while having a solitary beer. Serious business students. Singapore may attract a certain ‘type’ of person, not prone to serious partying of ‘joie de vivre’ing. The ‘Creative Class’? Or not? From what I’ve observed, not. Unless you call a day trader creative.
That said – there are yet layers to peel. And I think, (as China Mieville writes and my mother reminded me,) a “City and the City”. There are things here that cannot be observed at street level or in the public realm. What happens in the home, at the private party, or behind the unmarked, closed doors of the various sites of sin and vice that still (and have always ) dot the lanes of this port, may be very different. The Victorian British, those staunch, starched and dour protestants, were very good at living two lives – one of public respectability, and another of vice, indulgence, and even perversion and grotesque. The Chinese too – with their importance on respect and adherence to social codes – must have back door debauchery up their sleeve. I believe languid Singapore, with its rules and codes, is layered and textured, a ‘City and a City’. At least this is my hope.
8. Those that Singapore ignores, and those it forgets
Just as conspicuously absent as boorish drunks and punks and misfits are the socially downtrodden, the insane, the self mutterers and the generally shit out of luckers. And yet, this can’t be the case: every society has those who simply cannot and do not fit in, for reasons of unfortunate birth or some other malady. And those who get too old to walk, or begin to lose their grip. I have not yet seen these people.
I’ve seen many elderly people, walking slowly, but still able to navigate the Metro system and go about their duties. I have not seen that person stinking of odour and generally understood to be ‘not with it’. They have to be here. They exist everywhere. They are us, with a few circuits shorted. It must be hard for them here. I have read that the elderly have it hard in Singapore. There is no state welfare system, no state homes for the old. They are taken care of by family and various private charities and philanthropic organisations. I saw as one old woman, able to stand but just barely, came onto the Metro at one station. She hobbled over to the seat that is ‘reserved’ for the elderly, the pregnant, and the disabled (shown in diagrams above the seat). A young woman was sitting in the seat, glued to her pid pad pod thing. She did not so much as look up and acknowledge this older woman, who hovered over her hopefully for a few minutes, without saying a word. After some time, she hobbled down the car to another one of the ‘reserved’ seats, and this time, a younger (but not much!) man got up to allow her to sit.
Is this the life of a ‘past due’ Singaporean, no longer able to work and help build the model society? Are they simply quiet, reduced to a form of ‘begging’, not for money, but for a seat on the train? Are Singaporeans, once grown stale like a rancid banana or an old pair of shoes, tossed away?
Surely this cannot be the case for a nation who look up to, still, the founding father, Lee Kwan Yew, who is approaching 90 years old. Still referred to as ‘Dear Leader’ by many who grew up under his premiership in the 1970s and 1980s, Yew has a mythical and legendary status here, like a modern day Thomas Jefferson, John Adams and George Washington all combined into one. Does the average grandmother command such respect? What, generally, does command respect here?
1. Plastic Apples: Arrival and First Impressions
Wednesday, September 5th I arrived on a Qantas Airlines A380 from London, the new double-decker plane. An Australian airline filled mostly with Australians, I began to get a sense of the spheres of influence in the non-British, non-American corner of the world. Australia, it seems, spreads its influence deep into the airline hubs of South East Asia, crucial stopovers on the way to Europe and beyond. My first impression of Singapore, as is the case with most cities, is the airport. Unremarkable other than its calm and quiet – “There are no announcements in Singapore airport”, said a member of the flight crew. Would that be too unruly?
Inside the terminal was an assortment of Easterners and Westerners, ladies with headscarves, businessmen talking into mobile phones, and backpackers on their way to here or there. A microcosm, perhaps, of the Port of Singapore, a collector of people and things from anywhere on their way to anywhere, but only here (whatever here is), briefly.
The equatorial heat. It doesn’t so much as ‘hit you’ as embrace you like a humid hug. It got into my nostrils and organs immediately. It does, to use a cliché, feel like being inside a greenhouse at a botanical garden, though inverted: outside is the greenhouse, and inside, the sterile air conditioning. The air smelled of burning: I was told later this is the season of wildfires in the rainforests of Indonesia, which lead to haze and poor air quality in Singapore. Still, it gave Singapore a ‘smell’ which I will always associate with my first days there. The road from the airport to the city gave my first glimpse of the ‘garden’ that is Singapore: a sort of Le Corbusien urban landscape of unremarkable, homogenous high-rises set above carefully landscaped gardens and large, mature trees. Altogether attractive and seductive, if rather bland. Each bend in the road reveals a similar scene, there are not many landmarks and the topography is flat. There are, however, some exceptions. Getting closer to the ‘city’ revealed a towering, unique skyline and the signature Marina Bay Sands hotel and Esplanade performing arts centre which together give Singapore a ‘heart’ not unlike the great front doors of Millennium Park in Chicago or New York’s Battery.
It was not long before I discovered my first Hawker Centre – the ubiquitous food courts in Singapore that serve everything from recognizable chains (Wendys, McDonalds) to local food vendors with Indonesian, Malaysian, Chinese, and ‘Western’ options. I had a ‘Congee’ for dinner (which is a slimy soup) which settled my stomach and a sort of puff pastry.
I settled into my hotel room and began the task of orienting myself and overcoming jetlag, whilst keeping up with the American politics entering an electoral frenzy. My first full day in Singapore involved travelling to my ‘home’ for 6 months, the graduate housing at the National University, and getting registered and administered on campus. I found the campus and associated infrastructure not unlike other universities, if more contextual to tropical geography and Asian-style green glass high rises. The student body is mixed, like the city itself, Eastern and Western. Blond hair and straight dark, German being spoken and Mandarin. I was ‘processed’ at various departments and could not figure out if the bureaucracy of the university was uniquely Singaporean, or similar to the often baffling bureaucratic processes at universities in the West (King’s and Cornell, much the same). “Go here” said one person, when I asked where a certain store was, selling a cable I needed for my laptop. Once there, someone else said “Not here, go there.” And so on. Sort of Orwellian and Terry Gilliam-esque, this place where nobody knows everything, only what they are expected to know. Ask beyond the script, and they scratch their head. Is this endemic to Singapore, or only to clerical staff at this (and perhaps all ) universities?
Walking in the heat, unaccustomed to it, is a struggle. It is deceptive: the temperature is no hotter than a hot London day or certainly the North Carolina summers I grew up with. But the humidity is extreme, and the heat pervades, slows, and wilts. One begins to feel an almost malarial delirium. The pace of the place has been described as a ‘languid Hong Kong’, and I see this.
What is real? It is hard to discern, so early in my journey here, what is Singaporean, and what is not. What is real, unique, and what is false? The place names are English (Kent, Commonwealth, Dover). The architecture is institutional. The food, pan-Asian. The vegetation is tropical, but could just as easily be Panama or the Congo. The streetscape is vaguely Panama City, minus the slums and beggars. The buses are double-decker. Is this a tropical Vancouver, an Equatorial Seoul? What IS Singapore? Is it defined by this definitive mix of things, or is there a soul buried deep in the dense vegetation, ensconced within the customised interiors of the unremarkable high rises?
As I waited in the air conditioned office of the ‘management’ of my graduate residence hall for various paperwork to be filled out, I walked over to what appeared to be a basket of juicy, ripe, green apples. Eager for a snack and a quick boost of blood sugar, I picked one up. Giggles from the management desk. “They are plastic apples”, said the student assistant. Looking closer, I saw that they were not real apples at all.
2. Clementi: The Heartland (September 6th)
I have read about a certain divide within Singapore, between the ‘City’ and the ‘Heartland.’ The City is cosmopolitan and global; creative and connected. The ‘Heartland’ is more conservative, traditional, and largely Chinese, with regional Asian minorities (but few Westerners). There is, according to local literature, a clash of values and ideals between the outwardly focused ‘City’ and the more inwardly focused Heartland. My PhD thesis focuses on this clash, in terms of how policy relates to the differences within and across Singaporean society and Singaporean neighbourhoods.
The overriding policy set is one relating to ‘creativity’, a word that has come to associated with ‘being’ cosmopolitan, ‘being’ progressive, and looking outward toward global influences, rather than inward. How are ideas that come from other places interpreted in Singapore? And within Singapore, how are ideas interpreted in the ‘cosmopolitan’ City Centre, verses the traditional heartland? The National University of Singapore is certainly a cosmopolitan and connected enclave in Singapore, with its microcosm of students, researchers and faculty from all over the world. It continues to gain accolades for its academic excellence, and its research standing sees it crawling into the top 30 global universities. Geographically, however, it is somewhat disconnected from the global ‘hub’ of Singapore’s ‘city’, and surrounded by what seem to be more traditional, middle and lower-middle class ‘heartland’ neighbourhoods. Surely the faculty and research staff live nearby, but the university itself seems more or less self-contained.
Walking outside the confines of the university campus, searching for some amenities I needed such as a pillow, instant coffee, a spoon and sunscreen, I quickly found myself in a disorientating suburban landscape of wide roads and repetitive housing blocks. This, Western Singapore, is how most Singaporeans live and these spaces are the most common in the City-State. Clementi is a town centre focused around a transport station (Clementi MRT and bus interchange). Like most ‘neo urban’ town centres, there is a modern mall adjacent to the MRT station, then some lower-rise, older shopping and entertainment spaces, including some bric a brac market stalls (useful for the home-wares I was looking for) and a number of food courts (hawker centres) with everything from traditional Chinese restaurants to air conditioned frozen yoghurt shops.
Surrounding the town centre are lumpy clusters of high-rise housing estates that seemed neither rich nor poor, though in various states of presentation: some look nicer than others, some are clearly very new and others are 20 to even 30 years old. These are the homes of mid-level pencil pushers and clerical workers, lower-level assistances, and in the older, less-plushly landscaped towers, probably immigrants and domestic workers, construction laborers, and even PhD students. I realized, walking around, that I have found one of my case study sites. I was looking for a site of ‘average, everday’ Singapore, the kind of place and space in which the majority live, shop, and hang out. The Heartland. And Clementi, only a few blocks from the National University’s rarefied air, is the Heartland. In one of the shopping centres I passed a chi chi looking restaurant that seemed out of place: a slick sushi house that could have been mistaken for Nobu or something in London’s West End. A sign out front said “Bringing the ‘City Experience’ to the Heartland.” A ha. How, then, are urban policies promoting cosmopolitanism and ‘creativity’ brought to the ‘Heartland?’ and How are they interpreted, used, and performed? Are they ignored? Contested? Subverted? Discarded, or disliked?
These are the types of things I will be looking for in my walks and observations. On my walk back from Clementi to the National University’s cluster of graduate housing, darkness had fallen, and I lost my bearings. I passed Mosques and saw men at their evening prayers. I passed schools, some with English names (Holy Cross) and others with Mandarin characters. I waited at huge intersections, given only seconds to cross 8 lanes of traffic.
Weighed down by the evening humidity and the sameness of the landscape, I slowly realized I had no idea how to get back. An urban landscape so devoid of difference and remarkable landscapes, possible to navigate during the day, suddenly became impossible at night. I was lost. After walking in what seemed like two circles and ready to hail a cab, I finally realized that I could see the towers of the National University (amongst the hundreds of other towers) and found my way back. Exhausted and sweating, carrying several bags of spoons, coffee cups, deodorant and sunblock, I swiped my access card and left South East Asia as I re-entered global academia.
I passed by the Yale University dorms, and noticed two very preppy looking blond men practicing racquetball or squash (or something) in a multi-purpose sports hall. What a strange place, so different and yet so similar, seemingly no place and yet all places at once. Walking through Singapore is like walking from the tropics to London, from Indonesia to China, from colonialism to post colonialism in the space of a few miles. A wonderful place to study urbanism and urban processes, a fact I already knew based on my reading but reinforced through only one day of wandering. No need to compare other cities to Singapore when it can be compared over and over again, in so many ways, with itself. What secrets are here? What answers?
3. Be Creative, Be Spontaneous (7th Sept)
One of the new high rises in the ‘University Town’ extension of NUS has the giant letters “CREATE” on it (Which is an acronym for whatever activities take place within the building, Centre for Researcher Excellence and something or other). I found this interesting given the topic of my research. Create, ok, but what? It is not hard to see creativity in various forms in Singapore, even based on the two days I have yet been here. The hawker centres, for example: these are all similar in layout and offering, but offer little variations that make them all interesting , unique, and different. Each food stall has a twist, a slightly different display, a slightly different recipe. One might have boxes of beers arranged in a certain way; dishes displayed in a particular way to entice passerbys. Conversations differ from table to table; westerners mingle with each other over some beers at once, while a family sits, speaking Mandarin, at another. Are these the ‘unofficial’ sites of creativity in Singapore? Hawker centres might be the most Singaporean assemblage. Yet what goes on within the monolithic housing estates requires a careful unpeeling. Are there starving artists within them? Are there discussions about culture? And what kind of discussions? What kind of culture?
4. Influences
Early on, I am getting a sense of the spheres of influence here. Picture a people-less patch of mud, rainforest and swamps. This came first. Then the Malay Kings and the conquering Pirates of this jungle Archipelago. Then the Chinese and the British (19th Century). These two influences are still strong and manifest physically and culturally in all walks of life. The Muslim influence is also very present, from 21st century Malaysia and Indonesia, with headscarves, mosques and Madrassas a visible minority presence. This cultural aspect will come across in various ways. Indians (very dark, visibly from the South and Sri Lanka) are also common, both as students / researchers / faculty and also as poorer laborers (seemingly much of the construction workforce). They are Hindu (recognizable from the forehead markings) and therefore would be culturally more tied into the Hindu world than the Muslim (or Confucian). The Western influence is mixed British, European, Australian, and American. So far, European and Australian seem to be, at least visibly, more influential than American. This comes as a bit of a surprise, given the strength and reach of American academia and business. But the American end may simply be newer, and Australia, at least geographically, is closer. It may be more common for Australian students to head to Singapore given the relative paucity of Australian universities. And a 10 hour plane ride is easier than 2 days of travel (necessary for British or American).
It will be interesting to see if this might change given the recent announcement for Qantas airlines to move their hub from Singapore to Dubai. What is the importance of airline hubs / flows / networks? Given Singapore’s historical role as a ‘port’ of various forms, it could be very important indeed. There are other influences.
I picked up a flier for an Israeli Film Festival, of all things (there is, and has always been, a Jewish community here - as there is in all trading ports, from Mumbai to Panama City). Israel and Singapore though are linked in other ways - small in land, compulsory military service, creativity in water and resources, surrounded by Muslim nations, a high-tech economy, both new nations (Israel since 1948 and Singapore since 1965). Interesting. The question in terms of policy mobilities and assemblages then becomes, what is more influential in Singapore: physical movements of people (those coming here to study and work, those travelling to and from) versus the immaterial movement of IDEAS (on the internet, from research, etc?). More on this later.
5. Wanderings. Saturday, 8th September.
A. Day
Chinatown Peeling Colonial buildings next to crossfit gyms. Little Buddhist Temples smelling of incense next to Digital Media companies and male grooming spas. White Westerners jog by as a Chinese man brushes his teeth using a pail of wash water in a back alley. Dead cockroaches hide next to the pedestal of a trendy coffee shop, with newspaper clippings and accolades in the window. Restaurants called “Beaujolais” and ‘The Club” next to old Chinese women making cakes and dumplings and selling bric a brac,.
The 'City'
The ‘City’ everywhere looks and feels the same. Singapore, Canary Wharf, Chicago on a hot day. The glass buildings, brands, the streets, the plazas and the ‘lunch courts’ all look and feel the same and render context and latitude obsolete. Without the views of the water or Mandarin-covered shopfronts, Singapore is Midtown Manhattan, ‘The Loop’ Chicago, Charlotte, and Downtown Sydney. Sri Lankan and / or Bangladeshi men sitting on sidewalks without their shoes, eating lunch with their hands. They, with their bright shirts, dark skin, and saffron food, are the only real color, disorder, and spontaneity amidst the city’s monolithic nothingness and unrecognizable everywhereness.
B. Night
Singapore glistens, twinkles, pulses at night, and the centre of the activity is Chinatown. Those that come to see and be seen fill the tropical evening like fireflies. Gays saunter next to packs of tourists, locals and expats alike amidst architecture that, especially at night, evokes Colonial romance (even if it is at time erzats). This must be Singapore at its best, its most fun – away from the relentless heat of midday and the corporate lunch. Is a Saturday evening Singapore’s soul? And it started to rain. Big, fat raindrops the size of dimes, that wet you to the core immediately, and it feels wonderful and cleansing. The pores clear, sweat washes away and the rain even tastes good. Running, I get to the air conditioned and spotless MRT just as my shirt begins to soak. And smiling.
6. Cruel Heat, Cruel Bureaucracy (Tuesday, 12th September)
Martha Stewart (yes, that Martha Stewart), remarked about Singapore’s ‘Cruel Heat’ upon a recent visit (Straits Times). Locals got defensive. Martha’s sentiment was pure. To me, coming from a ‘never too hot, never too cold’ London, Singapore’s equatorial humidity is all encompassing. It’s not unlike a North Carolina August afternoon, except it is that way every single day of the year. Evenings are bearable, even pleasant; so are mornings.
But midday can be deceptive – the sun and twinkling palms beckons one outdoors, yet even a short walk can drain me of energy so much that taking a step becomes difficult. It is not just the heat; it is the constant switching into the falsely cool and dry world of air conditioning, on which this nation relies (even with the fans, human-propelled in Victorian times; the Verandas, the rainy evenings, I cannot fathom how over-dressed Victorians settled here before the air conditioning). My body tires from switching cool to hot and I have been falling asleep before 10pm each night. Perhaps this is a natural tropical rhythm I will get used to, perhaps over time my body will adjust. While I’ve convinced myself that I need the air conditioning (I am not sorry that I paid extra for it), another part of me realizes that I’d adjust faster and feel better outside if I had only a fan (which really is sufficient). The Singaporeans wear sweatshirts and fashionable London clothes about town. Even dark colors. I cannot believe how they do it don’t sweat. But, if this is all the body knows… four seasons and a biting winter wind is probably as foreign to them as this heat is to me.
I have spent the past week getting used to my surroundings and acclimatizing in more ways than one. I have made an effort to walk around the city centre and the ‘main’ Central areas, and have covered a fair bit of ground. The only significant portion yet missing is Little India, as well as the Eastern Beaches. I will save this for when I need to head that way anyway to apply for my student pass at the ICA – Immigration and Customs Authority. Which brings me to my next point – er gripe.
Singapore’s famously fastidious and slow-moving, Terry Gilliam-esque paper-pushing, pencil grinding bureaucracy has not yet annoyed me (it seemed friendly and efficient!) until now. It seems like every decision – every question – every ok and process – runs up against a ‘do not ask questions, do not seek alternative routes’ system which would be maddening long term.
For example: I’ve learned to always carry my passport and bank details, for these are apparently needed for purchases including a cheap throw away phone. By the time I’m finished, every business in Singapore will have a scanned copy of my passport photo. Which would unsettle me if it wasn’t Singapore, and I didn’t already assume I was being monitored. Another example: my student pass. The ‘Student Pass’ is basically an extended visa for those studying here for a period longer than the 3 months allocated for a regular visit. Seems simple enough. I had begun the application process (and paid the money) over the summer, and was prepared to “Complete the formalities’” this week by showing up at the ICA and submitting my paperwork.
Wrong. It turns out that because I arrived later in Singapore, my application had expired (and I lost all $30!). Therefore, I had to begin the process all over again, and pay another $30. As of this writing, I am still waiting for my (second) application for a student pass to be processed and I am unsure whether or not I will be in possession of my passport for my planned trip to China next week, or whether I am breaking some (death penalty inviting) rule by simply existing in the country without my pass at this point. I suppose I will find out after the line-managers of State Affairs have all played a round of Chinese Whispers and get back to me.
***
Singlish. Singlish is not English. It is the local patois, a pidgin English combined with every other ‘ethnic seasoning’ here, Malay, Mandarin, probably bits and pieces of Javanese and Tamil thrown in for good measure. It is often indecipherable. If the majority of locals speak and understand English, which I’m sure they do, they often throw their hands up at my careful accent and toss back something mumbled and spoken in low tones. Perhaps I should work on my Singlish if I hope to communicate with locals here during my ethnography and interviews.
I’m learning how to ‘get around the system’. Shh, don’t tell anyone. I’ve started jaywalking. It’s too hot for me to walk all the way up or down hill to the official ‘crossings’, so I’ve started to cross the street when I please. I’ve seen other people do it, and they haven’t been carted away by men in a black truck. The Graduate Club. A lovely-looking, air conditioned gym and pool, the kind of place I could take my mom if she came to visit. Palms, bouganvillia and the clinking of real silverware. To join, though, one has to be in Singapore for ‘At least a year.’ So, that’s how long I’ll be here (shh!) if it means I get to swim in and lie by a nice pool.
Still , some questions can’t be asked, and some rules can’t be broken. For example, back to the ICA and my student pass: asked the university registrar to the bureaucrat, “Can the student simply bring his stamped, expired letter to the ministry for his student pass, and can he get a refund for the application he already had processed?” Curt reply: “No, the student cannot.” Such is life in a managerial State.
7. William Gibson and ‘Disneyland with a Death Penalty’
The British science fiction novelist William Gibson said of Singapore that it resembled what a country would look like if entirely possessed by IBM. Another writer called Singapore ‘Disneyland with a death penalty.’ Yes, the penalty for smuggling drugs into Singapore is death. Which is harsh, no doubt about it. But I have seen enough day laborers napping on hot sidewalks, (small) piles of trash and even (yes!) some graffiti to remark that Gibson is being typically British about a former colony.
In fact, Singapore does not really run any more efficiently than other cities of this size – it has problems with traffic, pollution, social tensions, housing prices, and even some blight and buildings in a state of disrepair. If it is run by a computer, then it is run by an imperfect one.
The people that I have observed, walking about the streets, coming to and from the gym staring into their pads and pods and phones, standing in clumps on the Metro, seem very serious. There does not seem to be a whole lot of spontaneous laughter. This is true even on campus, with its relative diversity and large American / European / Australian community. Serious students! Serious conversations. Theories: this is a financial center, and many of the workers I’ve seen, students I’ve observed and even academics are related to business and the other ‘serious’ disciplines. Read: there aren’t a lot of hippies here, or the types of groups / activities / clubs / neighborhoods that attract hippies. There isn’t any cocaine (maybe some in elite circles) and very little ‘hard’ drinking. No marijuana to speak of. Some cigarette smokers. Does this lack of inebriation and other vices ‘erase’ the haphazard laughter, boisterous braying and annoying shrieking so common to British and American cities? Or is the reason cultural? (Confucian, Buddhist, Muslim traditions of quiet conversation and general calm?) Or, as I perceived above, does it relate to the percent of ‘serious’ MBAs more concerned with learning how to trade oil and futures than having fun?
The memory of Michael Fay, the American douchebag who famously was caned 12 times due to drunk and disorderly conduct, may be fresh in people’s minds. Laugh, but not too loud: have fun, but not too much. On one hand, the quiet, respectful demeanor is refreshing, especially coming from the bottle-smashing, fight and booze splattered streets of British central cities, so full of street piss and piles of garbage that it becomes noxious. There are no crackheads asking for money (and I haven’t seen an opium den). It is equally, however, unsettling. The calm and quiet, combined with the heavy, oppressive air and humidity, must cause a breaking point in some. The rigidness is yes, distinctly Asian (Chinese) but also carries over a leftover of Victorian British repression – a possibly fateful combination that I think explains much about the City-State.
There are, as I have mentioned, exceptions and dots of color and surprises, and these tend to be the other ethnicities. Namely, Indian – who seem to have a spice that is slightly more romantic, smiling, embracing, and warm. Not to trade stereotypes here. But this does perhaps come from Indian social and cultural traditions, the traditions of communal, inclusive dining (such as at a Sikh Temple). And the great Indian ‘fete’, the lavish wedding, the happy dancing and celebrations.
The Western expatriates, as I mentioned, so far do not seem to breathe a celebratory and spontaneous air into things. Quite the opposite, they seem as driven, serious, and reserved as the Singaporeans. New mothers seriously pushing serious babies. Bored and rather lonely looking white bankers, perhaps checking out dating sites on whatever flat pad pod they are using while having a solitary beer. Serious business students. Singapore may attract a certain ‘type’ of person, not prone to serious partying of ‘joie de vivre’ing. The ‘Creative Class’? Or not? From what I’ve observed, not. Unless you call a day trader creative.
That said – there are yet layers to peel. And I think, (as China Mieville writes and my mother reminded me,) a “City and the City”. There are things here that cannot be observed at street level or in the public realm. What happens in the home, at the private party, or behind the unmarked, closed doors of the various sites of sin and vice that still (and have always ) dot the lanes of this port, may be very different. The Victorian British, those staunch, starched and dour protestants, were very good at living two lives – one of public respectability, and another of vice, indulgence, and even perversion and grotesque. The Chinese too – with their importance on respect and adherence to social codes – must have back door debauchery up their sleeve. I believe languid Singapore, with its rules and codes, is layered and textured, a ‘City and a City’. At least this is my hope.
8. Those that Singapore ignores, and those it forgets
Just as conspicuously absent as boorish drunks and punks and misfits are the socially downtrodden, the insane, the self mutterers and the generally shit out of luckers. And yet, this can’t be the case: every society has those who simply cannot and do not fit in, for reasons of unfortunate birth or some other malady. And those who get too old to walk, or begin to lose their grip. I have not yet seen these people.
I’ve seen many elderly people, walking slowly, but still able to navigate the Metro system and go about their duties. I have not seen that person stinking of odour and generally understood to be ‘not with it’. They have to be here. They exist everywhere. They are us, with a few circuits shorted. It must be hard for them here. I have read that the elderly have it hard in Singapore. There is no state welfare system, no state homes for the old. They are taken care of by family and various private charities and philanthropic organisations. I saw as one old woman, able to stand but just barely, came onto the Metro at one station. She hobbled over to the seat that is ‘reserved’ for the elderly, the pregnant, and the disabled (shown in diagrams above the seat). A young woman was sitting in the seat, glued to her pid pad pod thing. She did not so much as look up and acknowledge this older woman, who hovered over her hopefully for a few minutes, without saying a word. After some time, she hobbled down the car to another one of the ‘reserved’ seats, and this time, a younger (but not much!) man got up to allow her to sit.
Is this the life of a ‘past due’ Singaporean, no longer able to work and help build the model society? Are they simply quiet, reduced to a form of ‘begging’, not for money, but for a seat on the train? Are Singaporeans, once grown stale like a rancid banana or an old pair of shoes, tossed away?
Surely this cannot be the case for a nation who look up to, still, the founding father, Lee Kwan Yew, who is approaching 90 years old. Still referred to as ‘Dear Leader’ by many who grew up under his premiership in the 1970s and 1980s, Yew has a mythical and legendary status here, like a modern day Thomas Jefferson, John Adams and George Washington all combined into one. Does the average grandmother command such respect? What, generally, does command respect here?
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