DESPITE HAVING been in Singapore for four years, I still marvel at the cleanliness and order here. I am pleasantly surprised at how courteous and polite people here are, not to mention patient. I have seen long lines of people patiently waiting at food courts, outside restaurants and McDonalds – only to get a special edition of a Hello Kitty toy. Sorry and Thank You are phrases you hear most, even if you were the one who walked straight into someone while fiddling with the phone.
The rules are rigid, but the case-to-case scrutiny is surprisingly flexible. The country’s strategy to spread the word about a new policy – show infomercials about it on loop on the two most watched news channels, Channel News Asia and Channel 5. But a word of caution: once the associated jingle gets stuck in your head, you may find yourself pondering over the benefits meant for the elderly Singaporeans.
I once watched an infomercial, apparently for the benefit of construction workers, which discussed the correct way of going up and down a ladder, for more than five minutes! Singaporeans may not be the most edgily creative people in the world, but no one can top their thoroughness. Working with a Singaporean team once, I realised how useless my “jugaad” technology is to them. They work with rigid checklists and there is just no way around that. Trees on the roadside are numbered and are regularly pruned before dead branches can fall on the road. The buses and trains are squeaky clean despite carrying an average ridership of five million every day. There are sheds on the roadside for motorcyclists to stop and wear raincoats in case of sudden rain.
What I love the most, however, is the language that is the mode of communication here – Singlish. A delightful amalgam of Chinese, Malay and English, Singlish is the to-go dialect for the people of Singapore. And once you get past the problem of understanding the accent, you are in for a ride of hilarity. For instance, the word “can” is used to express various states of agreement. Instead of “Yes, I can”, the reply in affirmative will mostly be – “Can” or “Can lah!”. “Can leh” is “Yes, of course”, and “Can lor” represents a certain degree of doubt — “Yes, maybe”. On the other hand, “Can hah?” means “Are you sure?”. “Can you, or can you not do this?” reduces to “Can, or not?” in Singlish. Shorter, and definitely more effective.
So popular is the – for lack of a better word – colloquial language here, that a concerned government started the project Speak Good English Movement in 2000. It was aimed at “encouraging the residents to speak good English and reduce the use of Singlish”. The campaign posters, which cited the common grammatically incorrect Singlish phrases, and the correct sentences side-by-side, became immensely popular on social media, but for entirely different reasons.
Here are some gems:
Correct sentence: Can you switch off the lights?
Singlish: Can you off the lights?
CS: Do you know what time is now?
S: What time now?
CS: What time does the event begin?
S: What time start?
CS: Is this seat taken?
S: Got people sit here?
CS: Please let me know if you need help.
S: Got problem, call me can?
On a serious note though, Singlish dispels a stereotype about Singapore. The seemingly reserved Singaporean, once drawn into a conversation, usually turns out to be a lively, animated conversationalist. The best way to begin is to strike a conversation with a taxi driver. He will tell you all about the travails of the middleclass Singapore society, its concerns about rising costs, unemployment due to the foreign workforce and even share his family problems with you.
The estate I live in has many elderly people, who sometimes beckon us to come and sit with them, eager to start a conversation. The questions are mostly similar to the ones asked in India —about salary, kids, family and food. My husband has at least five friends over the age of 80.
Another delight in this mixing pot of cultures – food! Little India, the area with Indian shopping and eating joints, has everything you get in India – and that includes good-old Maggi and Amul Butter. At the sprawling Mustafa Shopping Centre, jokingly called the poor man’s Harrods, you can find everything from masalas to dal to achaars and chutneys. You can choose between Dussehri and Bangnapalli mangoes, and ponder on whether you want aloo bhujiya or moong dal namkeen for snacks. With Diwali round the corner, Little India is already glittering with bright lights. The Indian community is preparing a month-long festive spree of Dandiya nights and Durga Puja. While there is nothing like being back home, being in Singapore is the next best thing for me.