Singapore, Oh, Singapore, Lah

(First published in Bali Advertiser, June 8, 2005)

Anne and Michael prided themselves on being different; artists, you know, and liberal-minded people – maybe a little scatterbrained, but then (secretly, they felt) that came from genius. – Langston Hughes, Slave on the Block, 1938

People screw up their faces when I tell them I lived in Singapore nine years. They seem to dislike Singapore because it is efficient, safe, ordered. Singapore, the thinking goes, just doesn’t have the chaotic freedom that would allow a Bali resident’s genius to flourish. The ‘true’ Asian cities of Bangkok, Jakarta, and Kuala Lumpur, with their traffic, pollution, stitched-together transport systems, and urban slums, are a better fit for anyone with an anarchic turn of mind.

The typical Bali free spirit probably does feel out of place in the ‘nanny’ state. Singapore allows people to chew medicinal gums now – but you must have a prescription; it holds annoying (and amusing) social improvement campaigns; foreigners can’t bribe their way through a traffic stop if caught driving without a license; illegal activity of most sorts is dealt with harshly. And it’s expensive. Unless you are staying in a love hotel, you can’t get a half-decent room for under US$50 a night. Cigarettes are the equivalent of about 60,000 rupiah a pack. A mug of non-happy hour beer at most pubs will set you back the same.

I just returned from a five-day trip to Singapore. After I had finished my two days of business, I spent the rest of the time exploring the city on train, bus, and foot. In the evenings, I caught up with friends at pubs and restaurants. Going to Singapore for me is like dropping in on the world to see how it’s been doing during my absence in Bali. I can report to the curious that oil and other commodities are still being shipped around the world; traders and brokers are still buying and selling; companies are still plunking down millions of dollars to make the plastic for the plastic goods that define 21st Century life; airlines are still fighting over landing rights and offering cheaper and cheaper flights; and Singapore is still building, building, building to improve the living, working, and commuting comforts of its citizens.

Singapore can be a charming place if you go to explore and enjoy it, instead of for an in-and-out visa turnaround, limiting your extracurricular activity to shopping for CDs and books you can’t find in Bali. The city has a great movie festival for art film lovers every year in April and May. The German and French cultural associations hold annual mini-movie festivals as well. ‘Fringe’ plays are regularly put on at the Substation Art House on Armenia St. and at Jubilee Hall at Raffles Hotel, some featuring actors and playwrights with London and New York City experience. Almost every weekend in season you can go to Victoria Hall or to the gleaming new Esplanade and listen to the Singapore Philharmonic Orchestra for less than the price of a cold Singapore beer.

Cars and housing are expensive for those that live there, yes, but the public transport system is second to none, the airport is world class, and the air is remarkably clean for one of the major refinery and petrochemical centers of Asia. What isn’t to like, really? Flights to the playgrounds of Asia are cheap. You can take bumboats to the east coast of Malaysia or ferries to the working ports of the Riau Islands. You can walk safely in most districts any time of the day or night. And if you think that Singaporeans are all automatons, you haven’t spent much time talking to the cab drivers about old Harry Lee and his PAP policies (PAP - the Peoples’ Action Party or Pay-and-Pay, depending on a driver’s political views).

My last day on this trip I went searching for some old shrimp farms in one of the few slices of mangrove swamps remaining on the northern coast of the island. A friend and I had been separately to the spot in the late 90s and were curious to see if the little corner had been wiped out by the intervening years of development. We did not find the shrimp farms. The mangroves were there, and a by-the-hour fishing pond was still in operation, looking more like something across the Johor Strait than like a Singapore enterprise. The boardwalk and fishing platforms were crumbling. The generator running the aerator was covered in oil and hoses. The whole area was littered with discarded wood and scraps of corrugated tin.

The best part was getting caught out in the mangroves about a kilometer from the car by a sudden rain storm. We sheltered underneath a tree until we were soaked and finally slogged back to where we had parked after giving up on a respite from the rain. We and the 20 others at the fish pond were probably the only people who got caught by the rain in Singapore mangroves that day. We had strived, we had conquered, and we still got back to a café half an hour later for a warming cup of coffee and a beer. Exploration is seldom so easy and enjoyable. As a bonus, for a couple of hours we escaped the sight of the government minders – a secret pleasure that can’t be found in almost-anything-goes Bali.

Copyright © 2005 Lee Roy LeRoi