I was sitting down at Boat Quay one morning, shortly after my arrival in Singapore, and overheard two young Asian girls chatting at the table next to us.
When I didn’t immediately understand what they were saying, I assumed they were speaking Mandarin. However, after a few more minutes, I realised I could understand a few words, and then to my astonishment, I realised that they were in fact speaking English. I was even more amazed when I realised that this must be their first language. How then could they speak it with such a funny accent?
Before I came to Singapore, I had of course heard of Singlish, but had assumed it was more a case of sprinkling the official language of English with a dash of Chinese or Malay slang. I had not realised that it is actually a stable, fully-fledged language and more recently, rather a controversial topic.
This very local dialect is viewed with pride and affection by most Singaporeans, and considered to be an important part of local heritage.
However, in recent years, the government has become increasingly concerned that the popularity of Singlish could lead to deterioration in the population’s “proper” English, thus limiting Singapore’s trading opportunities with the outside world and denigrating their appearance abroad.
As a result, not only is Singlish banned on television, but somewhat amusingly the Speak Good English Movement’s latest campaign suggests that the next time you see a sign written in poor English, you should whip out your post it notes and paste a sticky note over it, correcting the error. The idea has been described as guerrilla by some, and seems a tad excessive (not to mention at odds with the strict rules on vandalism).
On launching this year’s campaign the Minister for Community Development, Youth and Sports Vivian Balakrishnan replaced the ubiquitous and perfectly comprehensible sign at the Xin Food Court saying, “No outside food allowed” with one which reads “No food from elsewhere, please”. Seriously, the original was fine.
Taxi drivers are one of the best sources of Singlish and are a constant source of amusement for us “ang mohs” and, sometimes, of frustration. We wonder why when we say an address, the taxi driver will sit and ponder for a few minutes until repeating it seemingly identically.
On one occasion, a friend got a bit tongue-tied when asking for an address and it came out as “Reonie Hir”. As we looked at each other in horror at this unintentional faux pas, the taxi driver merely repeated “Ah, Reonie Hill lah, OK.” Apparently no offense was taken, and off we went.
On one occasion, my lack of Singlish was a serious hindrance. I had received a voucher for a facial, which I duly tried out. The next day I received a call from an unknown number and, assuming it was the beauty salon calling to harass me about future treatments, was a tad curt. However, after a few minutes, to my horror, I realised it was a telephone job interview!
By this point, I had no idea who the company was or even what the role was, and spent the next ten minutes alternately cringing every time I had to ask the interviewee to repeat herself, and wondering what the heck we were talking about! Aiyo! Needless to say I never heard back about that one.
When I didn’t immediately understand what they were saying, I assumed they were speaking Mandarin. However, after a few more minutes, I realised I could understand a few words, and then to my astonishment, I realised that they were in fact speaking English. I was even more amazed when I realised that this must be their first language. How then could they speak it with such a funny accent?
Before I came to Singapore, I had of course heard of Singlish, but had assumed it was more a case of sprinkling the official language of English with a dash of Chinese or Malay slang. I had not realised that it is actually a stable, fully-fledged language and more recently, rather a controversial topic.
This very local dialect is viewed with pride and affection by most Singaporeans, and considered to be an important part of local heritage.
However, in recent years, the government has become increasingly concerned that the popularity of Singlish could lead to deterioration in the population’s “proper” English, thus limiting Singapore’s trading opportunities with the outside world and denigrating their appearance abroad.
As a result, not only is Singlish banned on television, but somewhat amusingly the Speak Good English Movement’s latest campaign suggests that the next time you see a sign written in poor English, you should whip out your post it notes and paste a sticky note over it, correcting the error. The idea has been described as guerrilla by some, and seems a tad excessive (not to mention at odds with the strict rules on vandalism).
On launching this year’s campaign the Minister for Community Development, Youth and Sports Vivian Balakrishnan replaced the ubiquitous and perfectly comprehensible sign at the Xin Food Court saying, “No outside food allowed” with one which reads “No food from elsewhere, please”. Seriously, the original was fine.
Taxi drivers are one of the best sources of Singlish and are a constant source of amusement for us “ang mohs” and, sometimes, of frustration. We wonder why when we say an address, the taxi driver will sit and ponder for a few minutes until repeating it seemingly identically.
On one occasion, a friend got a bit tongue-tied when asking for an address and it came out as “Reonie Hir”. As we looked at each other in horror at this unintentional faux pas, the taxi driver merely repeated “Ah, Reonie Hill lah, OK.” Apparently no offense was taken, and off we went.
On one occasion, my lack of Singlish was a serious hindrance. I had received a voucher for a facial, which I duly tried out. The next day I received a call from an unknown number and, assuming it was the beauty salon calling to harass me about future treatments, was a tad curt. However, after a few minutes, to my horror, I realised it was a telephone job interview!
By this point, I had no idea who the company was or even what the role was, and spent the next ten minutes alternately cringing every time I had to ask the interviewee to repeat herself, and wondering what the heck we were talking about! Aiyo! Needless to say I never heard back about that one.
