Chun is more than your average boy – or so he would like you to believe. Our only male Tattler tells you what he thinks of Singapore.

Having been a foreigner here for almost 5 years, and for the better part of my youth’s prime, I have to say that Singapore is — different.

Thus far I’ve been through 3 distinct phases of my life here and hence I shall describe in detail (like it or not!) why I’ve felt the urge to cut and run at various points.

One of the first culture shocks dealt to me was after my first ever test, or quiz, in junior college (JC). Going through 5 years of secondary education in Malaysia put me under the impression that you never had to work really hard to show that you had some semblance of competence. Singapore gave me my first fail grade ever. I thought I’d never get through junior college. But somehow, that didn’t motivate me and make me all raring to go squash some test paper’s rear end. In fact, I sort of resigned to what I thought was my fate to try and fail in Singapore. Thereafter, I found my amusement in everybody else’s perpetual state of anxiety and (what I deemed to be) an excessive drive to do well.

Everyone studied endlessly and they didn’t just stop there. They had tonnes of activities like soccer, dance, Malay Cultural Society, choir, guitar ensemble and THEN they studied endlessly. There was always something to rush for after their extra-curricular commitments were over for the day and nobody went to the hawker centre just across the road for some supper or drinks. I genuinely didn’t understand that because I always had my “ice kacang” or “cendol” after my basketball games or Red Crescent activities.

So, culture shock.

Post-JC there was the phase where I only wanted to rot, rot and rot to reward myself for a job well done for ‘A’ levels. And rot I did, but I only gotten more insecure the more I rotted because, while everyone had seemingly more meaningful jobs, I took up a brainless job that entailed executing the menial chores of an office boy in the good ol’ Central Business District. It paid me S$10/hour, which was more than someone who failed his prelims could ask for at that point in time.

It also meant I experienced that mad office crowd rush from 7-9am daily for a month or two. Then there was the after-office rush that proved to be even more hardcore than that in the morning. And every single person on every bus or train I took then, was grumpy, grouchy, and somewhat angry. Which reminds me of, and puts into stark contrast, this Bangladeshi man who happened to be singing on his way back to Boon Lay on the last train one of those nights I had been dancing till late. I swear, on that night, though he sort of resembled a sore thumb sticking out in the train carriage (everyone was captivated by him, in that typical Singaporean pretend not to notice but ACTUALLY TOTALLY SPYING), I could just imagine him singing on a Mediterranean beach while I sip on my mojito underneath a summer sun.

Back home, taking the bus (I’m sorry to be reminded that Johor Bahru has yet to develop mass transportation systems other than public buses) meant there would always be a bunch of noisy youths sitting all the way behind talking and laughing to themselves. Random ah lians would be trading gossip and complaints while they talk excitedly about their plans for the night. And most of the time, they just want some fun. Like blondes! Unlike a lot (maybe majority, maybe not) of the people here, who go out at night with huge-ass agenda programmed into their every limb, action and word. Maybe Singapore should have a National Blonde Week where everyone goes blonde and just has some fun while throwing dignity and decorum to the wind. Regardless of the form fun comes in.

Maybe Singapore should have a National Blonde Week where everyone goes blonde and just has some fun while throwing dignity and decorum to the wind.

As I entered NTU, I made a handful of life-changing, pivotal decisions and took some significant steps in coming to terms with who I was and who I was about to become. For example, not making my own decisions as an independent (soon-to-be) adult, and thereby choosing the wrong course. Now I’m very tempted to insert “LOL” here simply because I find it that amusing. I knew for sure that I wanted to do something like communications but Daddy said engineering FTW! So like the good son I’ve been for the prior 19 years of my life, I took up chemical engineering.

At this point in time I had decided to stop discriminating against everyone other than my ex-hostel mates and start behaving like someone who didn’t have the world at his feet and everything in his head. Which opened me up to the beautiful convergence of my JC and rotting phase experience. As I made more friends hailing from 3K-land, it dawned on me that people here are not only severely misinformed about a great deal of things (such as the misconception that Malaysians can’t speak English and we don’t have malls), they are also scared of so much more.

“I can’t eat alone, it’s so embarrassing!”

“Are you sure you want to eat this? It looks kind of gross.”

“Will I get diarrhoea?”

“Oh my god I can’t go there. I will be a sitting duck for robbers and snatch thieves.”

“Since you are Malaysian, aren’t you supposed to be Malay?”

It was like the prelude for S Factor. Only this time it had male contestants too. All in all, it’s funny how the average Singaporean survives so much in this country but can’t seem to get out of their shell and just let loose once in a while. I understand you have dreams to pursue and immeasurable success to achieve, but diarrhoea’s scarcely enough to stop you, a snatch thief can’t steal that away from you, and you’re going to die when you’re going to die.

So let go of your hang-ups, people! Let the next person win an argument with you. Give someone the benefit of doubt. Tell yourself: I don’t need to worry or whine about this, it will work out.

I can afford to give way to somebody when I’m driving on the road and not have to honk the nuts off my horn.