Letter to Singapore
Dear Singapore,
Before I left you in 2006, I had attended the National Day Parade thrice. The first time I was young enough to whine about being allocated a seat in the brown section, the year they colour-coded your birthday bash; I do not remember how old I was then, but I remember hating the unfashionable brown t-shirt my parents made me wear.
The second time I was there on accord of tickets from the boy I was in love with (but he didn’t know that); he was part of the marching contingents and he wanted me to have his pair of tickets. All I wanted to do that night was to spot his face amongst the men who were serving National Service for you.
The third time, Singapore, the third time it was different. I was getting ready to leave you in a month’s time and I was feeling nostalgic: durians, MRT, Channel 8 and free-flow Singlish. An ex-schoolmate offered me tickets to celebrate your birthday for the third time in m y young life of 21 years, I thought it an excellent way to say goodbye.
You see, the thing is, I love your birthday parties. We sing old-school National Day songs and we wave our flags at the President, we relive forty-something years of history and we marvel at the free fall displays by the Red Lions, we say the pledge with our right fists on our hearts and we think about how far we’ve come in such a short time. I am always on the brink of tears on your birthday, Singapore.
And then, reality slaps in and most of it cannot be overlooked just because you throw spectacular parties. I respect you, Singapore, of course I do; you gave me an excellent bilingual education and you gave my parents CPF, you sold us a beautiful, affordable 5-room flat and you carved out a breathtaking cityscape. I respect your hard work and your conscientiousness in building metropolitan lives for us. But the truth is, Singapore, we have reached the bottleneck.
Too many of us are leaving, and too many are not coming back. We make our way out of this sunny island, trudging through the waters of typicality, painfully avoiding the baits of your safety nets. It might be harder here on the outside, more demanding and less requiting but the difference compensates for it so well. The diversity you speak of is really homogeneous in our four-language culture, the open-mindedness acceptance of your sometimes ridiculous rules. Here on the outside, real variegation exists, people stand up for their opinions and dare to sacrifice money for their dreams. I wish I’d learned all these from you, Singapore, but I can only find them here on the outside.