Monday, 19 November 2012

The Weight of the Monsoon


Monday, 19th November
Singapore

It has been a while since I have written personal thoughts, having begun my interviews and become lost in a flurry of academia.

The monsoon enters its third week. Today was the first day without rain since, it feels like, I got back from Australia. The rain is both refreshing and oppressive; I have always liked rain, growing up I loved the afternoon thunderstorms of North Carolina. I loved disappearing into coffee shops and book places in England during the rain and drizzle, a chance I (and everyone) has often.

This equatorial, tropical rain is more persistent than any I have encountered. There is no escape from it; it even seems to wet the insides of a room, somehow. The drops are fat enough to measure with a spoon.
The air is tolerable because of the daily rain, and that helps. The sun is not one’s friend here. But still, outdoor activity becomes difficult with the daily deluge. So, in either rain or sun, Singapore is a difficult place to be, if not on a veranda with a breeze or fan, or in an air conditioned room.

**
The rain adds to the creeping… heaviness of life here. I am now nearly three months into my time here, and have dug past a few of the surface layers. I am starting to feel like I live in Singapore, and only by feeling that way, am I starting to feel that I am living in Singapore’s authoritarian system, its heavy, oppressive, strong handed system. It does not creep into one’s head after a few days, but only after several weeks or months. The policeman in my head warns me against strange or offensive behaviour, not that I was planning any.
Singapore gets into you, you begin to internalize it.

Perhaps the initial interviews and my walk through Bukit Brown, which combined, have had a very chilling effect. The impact of seeing the 4000 graves being exhumed and then not one but two very candid, critical interviews, not entirely optimistic on their views of the city-state or the future, have left me noticing things with (yet another) fresh pair of eyes.

The Straits Times, for example, which at first seems like your everyday mainstream, centrist national paper (like USA Today, the Times of London, etc), now looks more and more like political propaganda. There is a formula, people say, and now I notice things I didn’t before. All well in Singapore; all fucked in the rest of the world. And on page 3, a man won a prize for his garden. On page 4, a girl lost her scholarship for drugs.
**
I won’t go into my interviews, since they will have been transcribed and explored in my PhD text. What I came away with, so far, were two people with differing levels of criticism on the Singapore State. One was a Singaporean, battle-scarred but still fighting for equality and human rights, perhaps a believer in slow liberalisation and having lived through the 1960s, 70s, 80s, 90s, and 2000s, with the hindsight, foresight, and patience of a veteran. The other interviewee was British, having arrived within the past decade. He seems to have made a life for himself here with his family and hopes to get permanent residency, and yet had nothing but scathing, troubling views on the City-State. My question, which I didn’t ask but should have, is why he stays, why he subjects his wife and young child to this society, if it is so bad? He also claims to have ‘fallen in love’ with aspects of Singapore – the ability not to have to worry about things, to not have to be guarded as one would be in London or Dallas. Perhaps just knowing that you are being looked after, and that there is a policeman in your head, is comforting somehow.

I read the paper today. There is a serious debate going on, seemingly involving several notable academics, about ‘the maid problem’. Not so much how they are mistreated (they are) and underpaid, denied a day off and other basic human amenities; but rather about how Singapore will face a shortage of maids in coming years. (Since maids from ‘dependable’ Philippines and Indonesia will go to other places, where they are treated better and have higher wages).

What made me balk was not so much that there was a serious discussion in the newspaper about the prospect of a maid shortage, but that the solution to this problem seemed (according to consensus), to be to simply take small steps to fill the shortage, such as allowing some maids to live outside their employers homes, encourage more Singaporeans to be maids, and encouraging maids to come from other countries (such as Thailand or Cambodia).

What is truly shocking, though perhaps shouldn’t be, was that this was even being discussed at all, but more importantly, that maids don’t seem to be thought of as people who deserve a minimum wage, a weekend, and the whole host of other protections and rights they are guaranteed in other countries (including many in Asia, such as Hong Kong). Not  that being a maid is ever a glamorous job, picking up 13 year olds shit-stained clothes and mopping a bathroom floor. Moreover, is there the capability for a discussion here about whether so many maids are necessary? Can people clean their own rooms? Would Singapore be a healthier, more dynamic society, if more children were not raised by maids, more fathers cleaned the house?

**
Another perpetual ‘problem’ for discussion here is the ‘drug problem’, which, if you believed the paper, is tearing apart Singaporean society. I have yet to see a junkie walking around or someone that I encounter that seems to be high on anything, except maybe cold and flu medicine or coffee.

Not only are drug-peddlers sentenced to death or (at minimum) life in prison (if they name names); drug users are also treated as criminals and punished severely. What is viewed as ‘rehabilitation’ here, for example, for a teenage-female heroin addict, is 12 months in basically solitary confinement. Young girl, saved from drugs, recounts her time with 2 bars of soap per month and just a squat for a toilet, which she had to clean by hand. The newspaper warns, it boasts, it chides. Never is there a discussion that maybe drug addicts are deserving of at least some modicum of human treatment, access to help rather than punishment.

Here too, Singapore differs from the leading ‘creative’ cities in the world, which are increasingly taking progressive stances toward drug users; Vancouver has realized that rather than try to social engineer heroin use out of the population (of which the Indigenous Canadian population is particularly hard-hit), drug users will at least have access to clean and sanitary facilities and methodone will be given to attempt to mediate and ameliorate the problem. Drug use has never been ‘erased’ from cities; cities can make things better, at best. Colorado voted this month to legalize marijuana.

And finally, the academy itself. Thus far and even more than a month in, I assumed that the National University, with its accolades, partnerships, and rankings, was somewhat insulated from the larger system – more connected to the ivory towers of the Ivy League and the Russell Group than to the People’s Action Party.

I assumed, in particular, that the Geography Department, which possibly produces as a cohort the most critical papers on topics such as spatial justice and human rights – would be an even more insulated group within the academy.

While this is somewhat true, I am realizing that nowhere here is insulated from the government or the ideology, and I learned this from a personal discussion with one of the senior faculty members in my field who is also a university administrator. Highly regarded, well-travelled, and Cambridge educated.

 She sounded like an automaton, hardly any different than the type of surface politeness cum wariness one might get from a civil servant or a waitress here. She seemed especially off-put with the topic of a gay-rights group I am interviewing (People Like Us). She seemed puzzled as to why they were part of my research, and managed to say, “Aren’t they -, um, a different kind – of – advocacy group?” The subtle ways that Singaporeans code-switch, channel you away from certain topics. A sensitive issue indeed, given the imminent opening of Yale / NUS college and the hesitation of Yale Faculty to associate with a university which will not openly promote alternative lifestyles in any way. Despite what is said, and despite what is agreed, I am at this juncture doubting that Yale / NUS will give rise to any sort of liberalization, any sort of ‘chipping away at the stone’ that is Singapore’s rigid value set. Not unless Yale and NUS faculty implicitly support and encourage it, which, from my observations and discussions thus far, does not look likely.
19 year-olds aren’t the bravest in the world, not these days anyway. Especially when there is a policeman inside their heads, warning them not to cause trouble.

Perhaps my forthcoming interviews will shed a different, more optimistic light, and what I feel in my heart will be proven wrong. I am open to this. I know that there are ways in which Singapore works and also ways in which it is easy to like, easy to even fall in love. There is a reason there are tens of thousands of highly-educated expatriates here. Neil Humphreys, the author, called Singapore his ‘girlfriend’ that he can’t get out of his heart. Hugh, (the British expat) I interviewed, though he called Singapore “Nazism without the anti-Semitism” (and there may be a fair amount of anti-Semitism), has chosen to remain here with his family, even saying that he would encourage his son to do National Service, the true sign of commitment to the state. He can say in the same sentence, however that 11 year olds kill themselves every year because their test results are poor.

 I don’t think he quite has figured out how to reckon with this place, or his decision to come here.He seemed almost agitated and stressed after talking to me. Perhaps the tropical calm of his garden, swimming pool, and comfortable lifestyle assuage the anxiety, ease the doubts, act as an opiate. Perhaps there was something worse for him in London, worse than a heavy-handed government in a tropical city. Perhaps there is some joy in knowing that he is different, other, can always return to England. Perhaps there is something exotic, naughty, slightly dangerous about being here. Or, perhaps, Singapore is no more rigid, controlling than anywhere else. At least it is open about it. Guantanamo Bay is still open, and London films you hundreds of times per day, can tap your phone or internet account at will. 

Nazi Germany was also seductive, and had a certain allure, attracting authors and great minds. I am not ready to compare Singapore to a fascist state, at least not that kind of fascism. Nor am I ready to make a blanket, black and white verdict – I don’t think that’s possible, and cities are too puzzling to describe without nuance and circumspection.

But every day, I feel the heaviness creeping in. And wake up with the policeman in my head. Is it fear? Anxiety?

From Singapore,
JDL

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