You spend $40 on a cake.
Whether you are seeking your own Proustian madeleine (the tiny cake whose taste brought Marcel Proust memories of his childhood) or not, when you spend $40 on a pandoro (Italian Christmas cake mentioned previously, which back home costs $5), you are homesick. And that little taste of home you are craving is going to cost you. Possible solution: carrying back lots of pandori with you after your next visit home. Why not? You already bring back Italian deodorants and laundry soap.
Skyping is not enough.
And the fact that, unlike a phone call, you actually need to get dressed to Skype, doesn’t make it any more attractive. But most importantly, you can’t smell your mother’s delicious pasta sauce over Skype, let alone eat it.
You check air fares online. Obsessively.
Just because you’re not going anywhere doesn’t mean you shouldn’t find out how much it would cost to get you there. Sorry if that makes no sense, I majored in philosophy.
You dream about the apricot-filled croissants at your favourite cafe.
I recently rewatched ‘Nuovo Cinema Paradiso’, a movie I first saw years ago as a college student. At that time, I was eager to explore the world beyond the medieval walls of Verona. But as I watched the movie now, I was surprised at how different I felt and how relevant to expats the themes were. The film, about a very successful director who looks back on his childhood, takes place in Bagheria, Sicily, the same hometown of the film’s director, Giuseppe Tornatore. It’s not a huge leap of the imagination to assume some details are biographical and to understand how difficult it must have been for the young Tornatore to leave Sicily. It is very touching and poignant when the protagonist remembers how his friend Alfredo (the movie house projectionist) sends him off at the train station. He admonishes: “Never come back here, forget about us, and most importantly… non farti fregare dalla nostalgia (don’t let nostalgia fool you).”
I think how relevant Alfredo’s words are for me, for my friends here in Singapore, for expats everywhere. How we must stifle those often idealized childhood memories to keep homesickness at bay… especially if they are filled with apricot jam.
Signs you’re about to travel home
Your valises are at the door… a week before your departure.
My husband claims that this is just me (and the kids) but I’ve visited many expat friends’ houses before their departures and doubt those huge valises by the door are part of the decor.
You need to buy a sweater. It’s for the plane.
The rush of adrenaline and excitement after booking plane tickets is the expat’s drug of choice. It is time to go shopping: not for bikinis and sarongs, but for sweaters. And don’t forget long pants and socks… that flight from Singapore can be long. Packing for the flight might not be so glamorous, but you will be thankful.
You buy all the jade charms available in Singapore.
If you’re coming from Singapore, people are expecting jade. They are thinking bracelets and necklaces, but after visiting shops you quickly realize that just because you live in Singapore does not mean jade is free. Once you add up how many presents you need to buy, you settle on the cute little charms depicting zodiac signs. Cultural and thrifty.
You buy many tins of Tiger Balm.
Many years ago, I received a tiny tin of Tiger Balm from a friend returning from a trip to Southeast Asia. She mentioned buying it in Singapore. I thought it was the most exotic present ever. And that was before I discovered it was the only thing that would relieve the neuralgia pain on my cheek caused by an inflamed nerve.
You remember you brought jade charms and Tiger Balm tins last year. And possibly the year before.
Although Tiger Balm is undoubtedly awesome and a welcome gift, when you notice that the medicine cabinet of the relatives you are visiting is full of it… you might want to bring something else. The same rule applies to jade charms. When the butcher, the hairdresser, and all your friends (and their children) have jade charms you gave them over the years already hanging from their key chains, it is time to go shopping for something new.
You head to Chinatown.
The one thing you will be sure to find in lacquer land – I mean Chinatown – are tourists. Some complain that this neighbourhood is actually the least authentic thing you will find in Singapore. What you will find are lacquer chopsticks. Tons of them. There are still some original pharmacies selling herbal medicines, rejuvenating teas, special tonics, and most importantly, fridge magnets.
You wonder whether they’ll like the Merlion magnets you bought.
The Merlion is a mythical creature with the head of a lion and the body of a fish, symbolizing Singapore. The fish body represents the city’s historical past as a fishing village and the head represents the original name Singapura – ‘lion city’. But a fridge magnet… really? Do not expect gratitude.
You head to Takashimaya. Nothing says Singapore like Jo Malone face cream.
When in doubt, my motto is: head to Takashimaya. Located in Ngee Ann City along Orchard Road, don’t let the Japanese name throw you (okay, it is in fact Japanese). It is one of the finest malls around. And did I mention the free coffee in the basement? Small tip: Feign interest in the Nespresso machines before explaining how you like your cappuccino made.
Signs you’re an expat studying Chinese
At some point during the first class, you wonder if you are still in time to get your deposit back. You’re not.
Learning Mandarin is hard. Short of labour, I can’t think of anything harder. It is so hard that if my son had happened to ask me if he could stop studying Chinese, I would have capitulated. “My goodness, yes. I had no idea. You poor thing, of course you can stop.” Luckily he didn’t ask – not after my first class anyway. Timing is everything. And now my attitude is: “If you made it this far…” I have heard him laughing with his Chinese tutor… in Chinese. Sorry, but if you are laughing in Chinese, there is no such thing as quitting. Now if you’re looking back in a blank and vacant stare at your teacher, like I do, that’s another story entirely.
Time hasn’t passed this slowly since high school math.
You’re living in the country so you want to learn the culture and speak the language. Well, kudos to you. But if you really want to fit in just learn Singlish. It’s way easier. True, Chinese is spoken by over one billion people… but how many actually had to learn it with a dictionary?
You finally understand what your son’s Chinese name means.
Years ago, when I lived in Dublin and taught English at a language school on O’Connell Street, I had a class which was made up entirely of Chinese students. In fact, my colleagues suspected that our school was really just a visa front. The students, who stayed with Irish families, complained about the food, especially the excessive butter and lack of rice (this could explain why they brought fresh eel to the class, a smell that didn’t exactly endear them to the teachers). Anyway, they all had self-appointed English names which sounded slightly surreal. The introductions went something like this: “Hello, my name is Li Xiaowu. English name Buddy.” Buddy? Really?
Years later, when my own son needed a Chinese name, it didn’t seem so funny.
So when the teachers in my Chinese class (who also teach Alexander) ask me what his name Ah-Liu means, I assume it is a trick question since it’s Alexander’s self-appointed Chinese name. “Soaring Eagle?” I sheepishly reply (vaguely remembering finding his name on a ‘Get A Chinese Name’ website when we first arrived in Singapore). “Oh, no! No soaring eagle (huge grin). Ah-Liu means: stay there.” What? The name my son has been using for the past three years in Chinese class means stay there? And I’m the one who found it for him. “Uhmm son, about that name Soaring Eagle… it may not be the cool name we originally thought it was.”
Your children are your harshest critics.
When I try out my Mandarin on Alexander, he just shakes his head and says: “Sorry Mom, I have no idea what you’re saying. You’re getting the tones
all wrong.”
The camaraderie in class is based on grammar mistakes and mutual misunderstandings.
There are only about four people in the Mandarin class, all expat parents, and we do have occasional laughs. Usually involving the pronunciation of words and the discovery that he means ‘drink’ but also means ‘box’. And that gege kele he shui means ‘brother thirsty, drink water’; but accidently change the order and you might end up with ‘drink your thirsty brother’.
Parents’ coffee morning Singapore-style
You hear about Japanese-Chinese fusion cuisine.
Whether you’re from Rome, Paris, or Omaha, Nebraska, chances are you have never heard of Japanese-Chinese fusion cuisine. Chances are most Japanese and Chinese have never heard of it either. Maybe one or the other, but fusion? Not likely. Singapore is the place to expand your culinary horizons. And a coffee morning, organized by your kid’s class rep, is the best place to do it.
Life in Singapore is compared to life in Dubai. Singapore wins.
At a parents’ coffee morning in Singapore, unlike one say in Verona (where everybody comes from Verona), everybody is from somewhere else. Consequently, there will be comparisons and conclusions. Pollution in Beijing, heat in Bahrain, squid-carrying moped drivers (not to be confused with moped-carrying squids… that would be weird) in Bangkok. Over coffee, world cities are analyzed with a degree of scrutiny comparable to that of future in-laws assessing a potential bride. Expat parents are like a convention of experienced urban planners: which city has the best schools, best transportation system, or best housing developments? And just how much better is Singapore? And, does that algorithm take into account the humidity?
At least one parent is a Brahmin healer.
It is absolutely true that the best thing about being an expat are the other expats you meet. And that the experience you have is only as good as the expats you know. Sure, there is the new culture to discover, the traditions to learn, and the foods to sample, but ultimately it’s all about the people. And because many expats view their time here as temporary, they know this is the best time to try something new. A new business, an extravagant hair colour; you can re-invent yourself and go by your middle name, wear only black, or become a vegan. It’s up to you. If you always wanted to try catering or be a yoga instructor, now is the time. And if it fails, nobody needs to know. Or at least, nobody from your hometown.
One mother complains her dog was bitten by a cobra.
The question was meant to be an ice-breaker: “Do you enjoy having a garden?” In other countries, a simple question. In Singapore, not so much. The answer might surprise you (I’m guessing almost as much as it surprised her dog). And for the record, this is exactly why I don’t have a garden. Do we live in the English Cotswolds? I don’t think so. Theoretically, we would all like a garden… just not one that will kill us. One of my expat friends kindly keeps us updated via photos posted on her social network of the reptiles she finds slithering around her black-and-white house. I usually get to see them right before bedtime. Thank you for that.
The main topic is the Mandarin programme at school.
International teachers, professional swim coaches, and enviable theatre. Not too much to complain about at international schools (except for the fees, of course). Oh wait, there’s the Chinese. Expat parents can always find something to complain about the Mandarin program. And usually that there’s not enough of it. Expat parents expect one thing when it comes to Chinese: fluency.
In transit: 24 hours in Singapore
WARNING!
This entry is not funny and may even provide useful information
8:30 a.m. Coffee at the Polo Club
This list is dedicated to those travellers who may be just on a layover and can only spend one day in Singapore. Here is a small sample of the many special things to do. Any of these will leave an indelible memory of Singapore; however, with comfortable shoes and a little energy, it is also possible to do them all.
First off, coffee at the Polo Club. Unlike other clubs in Singapore, membership is not required at this discreet club full of colonial charm. This is not a publicized bit of information, which is just as well. If you’re lucky, you can enjoy a glass of wine on the verandah overlooking the polo field while a match is going on. If not, you can let your kids walk over to the stables and give carrots to the horses. If you’re not a cat-lover, beware of those pesky cats following you.
10:00 a.m. Shopping on Orchard Road
Singapore is viewed by many as the shopping capital of the world, and if you go to Takashimaya at exactly 10 am when the store opens, each member of staff will bow as you enter through the doors. Prices are still high but the fact that you are briefly treated like royalty definitely improves your disposition.
12:30 p.m. Prawn noodles at Food Republic
There is a dazzling array of food at the aptly named Food Republic (located at Wisma Atria, on Orchard Road) but one vendor is clearly superior: the stall serving a delicious, piping-hot plate of prawn noodles on an opeh leaf (a brown, dried palm leaf). You’ll recognize it from the long line of customers patiently waiting for their fresh noodles cooked on the spot.
2:00 p.m. Luge at Sentosa
Fun for adults and kids alike. You can enjoy the gorgeous views of Sentosa (a popular island resort in Singapore) as you speed downhill. If you’re feeling adventurous, you can jump into the water at Palawan Beach. As long as you ignore the many oil tankers, you’ll feel like you’re on an exotic beach under swaying palm trees.
4:00 p.m. High tea at the Fullerton Hotel
Housed in the old General Post Office building, the Fullerton Hotel is one of the most impressive colonial buildings in Singapore. The facade and luxurious interior will transport you to another age. And the multi-tiered stand of dainty cakes and exquisite sandwiches is not too shabby either.
6:30 p.m. Dinner at a Peranakan restaurant
Peranakans are descendants of early Chinese migrants who settled in Singapore and married local Malays. One of their most significant contributions is culinary. A classic example of their delicious fusion cuisine is laksa (a spicy noodle soup). If you have an addictive personality, avoid it.
8:00 p.m. Singapore Sling at Raffles Hotel
Raffles Hotel, established in 1887 by two Armenian brothers, is Singapore’s most venerable institution. It’s a tradition to have a Singapore Sling (the cocktail invented here) at the Long Bar at Raffles. According to a local legend, this is where the last tiger in Singapore was shot. Expect to walk on peanut shells on the way out as patrons are encouraged to throw the shells on the ground (voted Least Popular Joint by cleaners).
9:30 p.m. Night Safari at the Singapore Zoo
Most zoos are depressing places because of the cages. Not the Singapore Zoo. That’s because you won’t find any cages here. No joke. And if you go there at night and see the Halloween-themed park (possibly banned now), your child could easily be traumatized for life. On the other hand, if you just flew in from another country and want him to get over jet lag quickly this could be just the thing. This zoo is truly unique. And that was even before the giant pandas from China, Kai Kai and Jia Jia, arrived.
11:30 p.m. Nightcap at 1-Altitude
For the best view in town, head over to the bar 1-Altitude. Drinks are pricey but the view is worth it. Especially if it’s your only night in town. And someone else is paying.
Signs you’re at a grocery store in Singapore
They sell abalone.
What exactly is abalone? And why is it canned? Literally sea snails that were once a rare delicacy and luxury item served at special banquets, abalone is now sold canned at grocery stores. You can buy the kind seasoned with chili, pink, or original. They are all very expensive and displayed behind locked glass windows.
They have hand sanitizer at the checkout counter.
In Singapore, even if you forget to carry hand sanitizer in your bag, you will find it everywhere: at school gates, fast food restaurants, chec
kout counters, department store entrances.
They take your cash with both hands. Literally.
Whether it’s cash, a credit card, or a receipt, the polite way to hand someone something in Singapore is using both hands. I now find myself handing pop quizzes to my students with both hands. It remains unpleasant, but I’m hoping it softens the blow.
Diary of an Expat in Singapore Page 12