<TABLE cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=0 width="100%" border=0><TBODY><TR>THE EX-PAT FILES
</TR><!-- headline one : start --><TR>Celebrate the liberal fusion 10 min
</TR><!-- headline one : end --><!-- Author --><TR><TD class="padlrt8 georgia11 darkgrey bold" colSpan=2>By Suresh Menon
</TD></TR><!-- show image if available --></TBODY></TABLE>
<!-- START OF : div id="storytext"--><!-- more than 4 paragraphs -->Singapore turned 43 yesterday. To realise I have been with her for 15 of those years is simply mystifying. Except for Sars and the Nicoll Highway collapse, the reference points are rather a blur.
In contrast, the previous years were dotted with assassinations of two prime ministers in India, full-scale wars, the almost surreal optimism of my countrymen, and of course the arrival of the rejuvenating monsoon on a prescribed date in my home state of Kerala.
Yes, from a chaotic order to clinical predictability. Even seasons bypass Singapore and during that lull from the tumult, I fathered two children here. That alone should keep the Lion City indelibly in my nostalgia forever.
The cities that you live in do make you. Let me ponder over some of those things with which Singapore has infected me:
Singlish: Observing workers from India and Bangladesh speak splendid Singlish can be fun. They often do it to show off to the new arrivals their assimilation status. They create a halo around the 'lah'.
I can spot my Singapore counterpart a continent away. When we talk in a certain way, our facial muscles adapt and we develop a distinct look. So, even nature endorses this right to a tongue.
Secularism: I do not think any other conservative society can boast of such religious liberalism as here. At a Hindu temple the other day, apart from the gods and goddesses in attendance, one could see tudung-wearing women and folk from different religious denominations present to bless a new couple. Even in the most secular of nations - India - such a liberal fusion is unimaginable in a temple.
Migrants: The toffees at the Changi immigration counters soothe the nerves. After an exhilarating or turbulent stay overseas, who does not want a certain predictability in our lives?
Well, once inside the red dot, after a kopi-C or Tiger, cultural divide is inevitable.
Fifteen years ago, some of us came over with expressions of apology. When our racial counterparts here likened our biological homes to a snake charmer's den and where cows dictated traffic, we consoled ourselves that this was diasporal defence mechanism that should be overlooked with a bucket of salt.
Times are challenging and the new arrivals with emerging-market stamp on their shining passports - from China and India - are beaming with confidence and, at times, arrogance.
Let me take you on a tour: At our usual coffee shop, I and three Singaporean friends are on to the usual thing.
The regular assistant, a Singaporean who meticulously serves us beer, is on leave. A Chinese national has taken over. My friends are complaining about his lack of enthusiasm. Strangely, unlike the forlorn faces of the earlier ones, this Chinese guy is not even bothered and is happy singing and working. He also occasionally waves at me. I tease my already aggrieved mates: 'See the alien solidarity.'
So how? I guess evolution will heal this cultural divide. Ask a Eurocentric in Brussels and he would say in the decades to come that nation states and sovereignty would be as unfashionable as being a straight, married male.
Never mind, we have instant solutions also.
One solution to tame the new arrivals is this: Get some experts from some of the now defunct consulting companies to design a process whereby the new migrants will be asked eight questions, to mark the Olympics and 4D.
If they cannot answer, they will be asked to go to Pedra Branca and win a verbal duel with the inhabitants of Middle Rocks.
Forget it all, lah, let us together enjoy the fusion.
Belated National Day wishes. The writer is Foreign Editor of The Business Times. He is an Indian national and has been living in Singapore for the past 15 years.
</TR><!-- headline one : start --><TR>Celebrate the liberal fusion 10 min
</TR><!-- headline one : end --><!-- Author --><TR><TD class="padlrt8 georgia11 darkgrey bold" colSpan=2>By Suresh Menon
</TD></TR><!-- show image if available --></TBODY></TABLE>
<!-- START OF : div id="storytext"--><!-- more than 4 paragraphs -->Singapore turned 43 yesterday. To realise I have been with her for 15 of those years is simply mystifying. Except for Sars and the Nicoll Highway collapse, the reference points are rather a blur.
In contrast, the previous years were dotted with assassinations of two prime ministers in India, full-scale wars, the almost surreal optimism of my countrymen, and of course the arrival of the rejuvenating monsoon on a prescribed date in my home state of Kerala.
Yes, from a chaotic order to clinical predictability. Even seasons bypass Singapore and during that lull from the tumult, I fathered two children here. That alone should keep the Lion City indelibly in my nostalgia forever.
The cities that you live in do make you. Let me ponder over some of those things with which Singapore has infected me:
Singlish: Observing workers from India and Bangladesh speak splendid Singlish can be fun. They often do it to show off to the new arrivals their assimilation status. They create a halo around the 'lah'.
I can spot my Singapore counterpart a continent away. When we talk in a certain way, our facial muscles adapt and we develop a distinct look. So, even nature endorses this right to a tongue.
Secularism: I do not think any other conservative society can boast of such religious liberalism as here. At a Hindu temple the other day, apart from the gods and goddesses in attendance, one could see tudung-wearing women and folk from different religious denominations present to bless a new couple. Even in the most secular of nations - India - such a liberal fusion is unimaginable in a temple.
Migrants: The toffees at the Changi immigration counters soothe the nerves. After an exhilarating or turbulent stay overseas, who does not want a certain predictability in our lives?
Well, once inside the red dot, after a kopi-C or Tiger, cultural divide is inevitable.
Fifteen years ago, some of us came over with expressions of apology. When our racial counterparts here likened our biological homes to a snake charmer's den and where cows dictated traffic, we consoled ourselves that this was diasporal defence mechanism that should be overlooked with a bucket of salt.
Times are challenging and the new arrivals with emerging-market stamp on their shining passports - from China and India - are beaming with confidence and, at times, arrogance.
Let me take you on a tour: At our usual coffee shop, I and three Singaporean friends are on to the usual thing.
The regular assistant, a Singaporean who meticulously serves us beer, is on leave. A Chinese national has taken over. My friends are complaining about his lack of enthusiasm. Strangely, unlike the forlorn faces of the earlier ones, this Chinese guy is not even bothered and is happy singing and working. He also occasionally waves at me. I tease my already aggrieved mates: 'See the alien solidarity.'
So how? I guess evolution will heal this cultural divide. Ask a Eurocentric in Brussels and he would say in the decades to come that nation states and sovereignty would be as unfashionable as being a straight, married male.
Never mind, we have instant solutions also.
One solution to tame the new arrivals is this: Get some experts from some of the now defunct consulting companies to design a process whereby the new migrants will be asked eight questions, to mark the Olympics and 4D.
If they cannot answer, they will be asked to go to Pedra Branca and win a verbal duel with the inhabitants of Middle Rocks.
Forget it all, lah, let us together enjoy the fusion.
Belated National Day wishes. The writer is Foreign Editor of The Business Times. He is an Indian national and has been living in Singapore for the past 15 years.
