Renting private islands
No need to be Richard Branson or Mick Jagger, if you’re a posh expat in Singapore, you too can feel the unique exhilaration that comes from owning your own private island. Just look in the Yellow Pages.
Renovating rustic farmhouses in Tuscany
Who wouldn’t want to renovate a house? Contractors and builders are so delightful… especially when they are miles away and speak a foreign language. Fun times ahead. Don’t be surprised when they present you with an estimate which is so outlandish they smile sheepishly as they hand it to you. But you always dreamed of having a retirement house in the beautiful Florentine hills. And the baguettes… what’s that you say? They sell baguettes at Cold Storage now?
Installing cable TV in the maid’s room
Posh expats constantly try to outdo each other when it comes to how they treat the help. Travelling first class? Check. Michael Bublé concert? Check. Cable TV? Of course, how else are they going to see singing competition shows? Heartfelt generosity or merely the wish to win Best Employer of the Month (now there’s an idea, MOM)? Who cares? Possibly the newly hired Indonesian helper requesting an iPad mini: “It will help me with the dusting, ma’am.”
Travelling to Myanmar
A remote and challenging location where the local word for tourist is now posh expat. Not really, but with the recent surge in luxury hotels, that’s a distinct possibility.
Swimming with dolphins in Dubai
So what if it involves a plane ride? Just think of the photo opportunities that real live dolphins and camels in the desert can provide. Newsflash: The Singaporean aquarium just got dolphins of its own. I have a feeling flights to Dubai will decline. Although: having visited this Arabic gem in the middle of the desert, I have to say it’s a pretty interesting place. Here are just a few of the things I learned:
a. Petrol is cheaper than water. Literally.
b. Water is very expensive.
c. Dubai is not the capital of the UAE. Abu Dhabi is.
d. The specialty in Dubai is bread. For those coming from Asia, the absence of rice may come as a refreshing surprise… or shock.
e. Chinatown is a mall.
f. Bus stops along the streets have air conditioning.
g. There are pink taxis driven by women that only pick up women (especially good if you’re having a bad hair day). Women can also take the taxis driven by men, hence it’s the men who actually have less choice.
h. High-speed sand driving on desert dunes… not for everybody.
i. There is a souk (Arab marketplace) that is actually an exact replica of what you think a souk would be like. It’s not ironic.
In Dubai, there is the biggest mall in the world, the highest building in the world, the largest aquarium in the world… the list goes on. It’s almost as though the urban planners get together once a week, hopped up on coffee, check out the Guinness Book of Records, and say: “You know what would be cool? The biggest… (fill in the blank).” It’s an architect’s dream location. So, if you are an aspiring architect who loves olives, hummus, camel rides, and swimming with dolphins… this is the place for you.
Small tip: Fly Emirates, the tiny cans with Coke written in Arabic make great souvenirs for the kids.
Random things I learned living in Singapore
A plus size here is a petite size elsewhere.
Curious fact until you realize you’re the plus size they are referring to. And you can forget about finding large-size lingerie. And when I say large size I’m really referring to anything bigger than what a 12-year-old boy would wear. And expats shouldn’t be surprised by the extremely candid attitude of the sales people as they instruct you on where to go: “Plus size is downstairs.” Secretly thinking: move it, fatty.
Honesty is so overrated.
It is perfectly acceptable in Singapore for university students to enter the classroom and announce: “Sorry I was absent, Prof, but I had diarrhoea.” I repeat, university students, not kindergarten students. I understand it’s the tropics and that this is potentially a life-threatening condition and not just the consequence of dodgy food, but still… thanks for sharing. Or for a hairdresser to casually comment: “I see you’ve put on weight.” Or, if you haven’t been to the salon for a while: “Long time not beautiful already.” Thanks, lady, but if I wanted honesty I’d just ask my son.
It may not be ‘Out of Africa’, but my daughter is definitely having a tropical childhood.
I was surprised last night when Eliot off handedly mentioned she had been told to not drink from the water fountain outside the girls’ bathroom at her school because there might be a tiny cobra in there. “We have to use the boys’ one… just in case.” Huh?! This from the girl who is afraid of ants. I’m thinking she’s not clear on what a cobra is. I’m also thinking I don’t want to be the one who tells her.
It seems fitting somehow that I am reading a memoir about an African childhood. Maybe Eliot will one day write her memoir about growing up on the tropical island of Singapore. And of her fear of crocodiles (she can’t even write the word for a spelling test without shuddering). I feel kind of guilty about that. When she was five, her favourite bedtime story was ‘The Enormous Crocodile’ by Roald Dahl. It’s a children’s story but the illustrations of a crocodile disguising himself as a park bench or a see-saw for unsuspecting children are amusing in a disturbing way. That reading choice made over two years ago may be the reason she still occasionally comes into my bed at 2 am, reasoning: “I know crocodiles are in swamps but they could still crawl to our house because they do like children. And we have a lift.”
Singapore sounds more exotic than it is.
I say this especially from an expat point of view. If you’re looking for something more hardcore, head on over to Szechuan province in China. That’s not to say there aren’t strong Chinese traditions. Stay away from the number 4, which symbolizes death, lay out plenty of food on the sidewalk during the Hungry Ghost Festival, and set out peeled mandarin oranges during the lion dance at Chinese New Year. The list goes on and on. If you spend all your time at malls, you’ll miss this cultural aspect of the city. On the plus side, you’re less likely to slip on an orange peel.
Architecture is in a constant state of flux.
If you don’t like the external design of a recently built condo or mall, no worries. Chances are it will be knocked down and completely rebuilt within a year. Six months if you live on Newton Road. Biggest pro: construction industry is thriving. Biggest con: you’ll wish you were deaf.
If ‘Downton Abbey’ were set in Singapore
‘DOWNTON ABBEY’ is a popular British TV drama set in a country estate, featuring an aristocratic family and their servants in the post-Edwardian era. It seems only natural to wonder: what if the show were set in Singapore?
Lady Cora Grantham would be wearing Prada.
Singapore… shopping capital of the world. Ladies like to shop and the most expensive labels in the world can be found on one short strip along Orchard Road. But unlike say, Via Montenapoleone in Milan, where the shops and boutiques are found along a main pedestrian street, here they are inside elegant air-conditioned malls. There are cafes and restaurants, and in the basement the wonderful, ubiquitous food courts. Where else can you spot ladies with Prada handbags eating $5 chicken rice?
Matthew Crawley would drive a Ferrari.
Singapore has the highest number of luxury fast cars. This presents a hazard to pedestrians as cars try re-enacting Formula One. Singapore has a city circuit like Monte Carlo and is the only one in the world that runs at night. To the delight of pedestrians going out for an evening stroll. Tip: Walk fast at traffic light crossings.
The air con bills would be outrageous.
Electricity bills can be ridiculous in Singapore… especially if you keep the air con on all the time. If you’re one of those expats who likes drying clothes in the dryer (rather than on a clothes line or pole), then you’re in for a major shock when your bill comes.
There are some expats who like keeping the bedroom as cold as a meat locker, with windows frosted over. At night, they sleep in long-sleeved pyjamas under heavy duvets as though they were in a Swiss chalet rather than tropical Singapore. Why not fly to Iceland? It’s bound to be cheaper.
In all fairness, my toddler once had a heat rash during an exceptionally hot summer in Italy. Nothing would work to get rid of it, not even the cortisone cream prescribed by the doctor. But after the 12-hour flight on an air-conditioned plane back to Singapore, the rash completely disappeared. I had never before thought about the therapeutic benefits of air con. So, if your child has a diaper rash, forget needlessly expensive and potentially harmful skin creams. Just have the child run around a Singaporean airplane for a few hours without a diaper… the passengers will love you.
The kitchen would have a Nespresso machine.
There are usually two kitchens in Singapore houses: a normal one and a wet one. The normal one has all the ritzy appliances, while the so-called wet one is where the fish-frying and meat-grilling is done. In other words, all the smells are there. Your cat will love it, you less so. Dishwashers are optional since usually the domestic help is in charge of washing up. The maid’s room is usually tiny and the real estate agent might offer the following advice if she sees you looking perplexed at how small it is: “No problem, just pick a short maid.” Occasionally, that room doubles up as a bomb shelter. So be nice to your helper, not just because it’s the right thing to do, but so she doesn’t lock you out during a bomb raid.
Lady Edith Crawley would have her hair rebonded.
To the amateur Western eye, it might seem that all Asian hair is straight. Wrong. There are various degrees of straightness and chemical treatments are as straight as you can get in the hair-straightening market. One tiny problem: they contain a highly noxious ingredient that goes by the name of formaldehyde, which is banned in most countries. Most expats are ambivalent, shifting from “There is no way I want that in my hair” to “How bad can a little formaldehyde be?” After all, smoking isn’t banned on condo balconies. Who doesn’t like sitting outside with a glass of wine, listening to music, and inhaling some second-hand smoke? Let’s be honest, if second-hand smoke at least guaranteed something useful, like straight hair and hot dates, more people would embrace it.
Anna and Mr Bates would apply for an HDB flat.
HDB (Housing and Development Board) is the board that manages public housing in Singapore. If you consider that 85% of Singaporeans live in HDB flats located in housing estates… that’s a lot of HDB flats. These self-contained satellite towns provide affordable housing for the masses. But as a taxi driver explained to me, not everybody can apply to buy government housing. For example, if you’re unmarried, without children or aging parents living with you, forget about it. You could always try and rent some kids and old folks for the interview but it’s still a long shot.
There would be chili crab for dinner.
Forget the Sunday roast with potatoes, ragout sauce, or large pot of Irish stew boiling away for hours on the stove (dishes traditionally made with the dual purpose of nourishment and heating the house). In Singapore it is easier (and cheaper) to just pop down to the food court. Peranakan, Chinese, Malay? And, you won’t mess up the kitchen, neither the normal nor the wet one.
The maids would have handphones.
A uniquely Singaporean mystery is how domestic workers manage to have not only better phones than the rest of the population but better phone plans as well. They must be working for SingTel. This is the only possible explanation for the amount of time cleaners spend talking on the phone. Don’t bother listening in: it’s either Tagalog (Filipino) or Bahasa (Indonesian).
There would be no durian allowed upstairs.
Ahh, the smell of freshly opened durian… there is nothing like it. It’s hard to describe. Let’s just say, if durian really is the fruit of the gods, one wonders if these are gods with or without olfactory capacity. This king of fruits with a thorn-covered husk has a strong odour described in Wikipedia as that of rotten onions, gym socks, or raw sewage. Though the taste is reputed to be divine and can be found flavouring anything from macarons to moon-cakes, the actual smell can empty a room faster than a fire alarm. Fire brigades take note.
Lord Grantham would not hire any more foreign talent.
One of the reasons Singapore is so appealing to foreign entrepreneurs is the favourable tax scheme. One of the reasons foreigners are not so attractive to Singaporeans is there are so many of them. As a result of a recent study on population, the government has set out a roadmap for Singapore’s demographic challenges. There is an actual board overseeing this called the National Population and Talent Division (to not be confused with ‘Britain’s Got Talent’).
Signs you’re at Changi Airport
You’re smiling.
Some people jokingly say that the best thing about Singapore is Changi Airport. They are not joking. If not the best, it is certainly among the top five things to boast about. There has yet to be an unimpressed visitor. The first time I arrived, I was completely blown away. True, I was coming from an Italian airport with an ongoing baggage-handler strike, but still… impressive.
You’re reluctant to leave.
It’s always hard to leave… if you’re leaving from Changi Airport, it’s that much harder.
You’re getting a free foot massage.
There are many perks in Changi Airport. The following is just a sample: the possibility of strolling in a butterfly garden, free foot massages, fish micro-massage therapy at the Fish Spa, refreshing showers at the Rainforest Lounge, free Xbox 360 video games, a dip in the rooftop swimming pool while sipping a Tiger beer, a blow-dry, a manicure, a free blockbuster movie, a nap in a comfortable resting area. If only they built a condo inside.
You’re wearing a sweater.
The only downside to spending time at Changi: the temperature. A tactic to deter squatters? The upside: if you are headed to Antarctica, your body will already be acclimatized.
There is no question you’ve packed your own bag.
Even if you have never watched the National Geographic series ‘Banged Up Abroad’, you’d have to be living under a rock not to know the perils of allowing anybody else near your bag. My kids don’t even watch the show and have been packing their bags since they were little. (This may explain why Alexander always has a bag full of books and Eliot has one full of shoes.) That sign warning potential drug smugglers that they will get the death penalty… not just decoration.
You’re nervous about the chewing gum you forgot to declare.
Possibly the only airport in the world where your hands get clammy and you avoid eye contact at check-in because you have a… pack of gum!
Signs you’re homesick
The screensaver on your computer is a photo of your hometown.
If you are an expat living in Singapore who doesn’t go home at Christmas, you’re going to save loads of money. Come February, however, you are going to be homesick. Now you’re faced with a dilemma: either go home for a much shorter time as there are no long school holidays at this time (especially if homesickness strikes after Chinese New Year) or just wait until summer break. Four more months… should be a breeze.
Your browser homepage is set to your hometown newspaper.
This is certainly a good way to know what your friends are watching at the movies, what’s on stage, and if your favourite team scored over the weekend. Also an excellent way to be jolted a million miles away every single time you turn on your computer. But if you weren’t masochistic, you wouldn’t be living so far away in the first place. When I lived in Sydney, which was much further away from Verona than Singapore is, I felt physically ill every time I looked at a map. If I didn’t look at a map, I was fine. Happy even. My colleagues at Sydney University had a name for it: geographical displacement. In Dublin, which is much closer, I never felt that way at all. And it’s not just because of the Guinness.
Wh
en you speak with your family back home, any mention of the weather (regardless of what it is) leaves you feeling wistful.
Growing up in Verona, I didn’t particularly like the fog that covers the city like a cloak during the winter months. Even though there is a certain romantic feeling that comes with being in a city enveloped in thick fog, it is a sentiment unappreciated by a teenager itching to see the world. The homesick expat, however, would give anything to see that fog. Even if the expat’s family comes to visit, it is likely their departure will cause the expat to plunge into an even more grievous state of homesickness. That taxi ride home, after dropping the visitors at the airport for their flight back home, is one of the most depressing rides ever. Unless, of course, you get the taxi straightaway. Small victories.
Diary of an Expat in Singapore Page 11