Read Diary of an Expat in Singapore Online
Authors: Jennifer Gargiulo
In my university classes, we’ve been reviewing the hazards of gender-specific toys and my students have been writing on how market-driven princess paraphernalia can negatively (or not) influence a girl’s personality and ambitions. As a mother of a five-year-old daughter with a love for everything ‘princess’, this gives me food for thought. So today I asked Eliot: “What do you want to be when you grow up?” She usually answers: “Teacher or mother.” So, with a reassured feeling, I asked: “You don’t want to be a princess, do you?” With a look of awe, she wondered: “I can be a princess?!!” Not exactly the thought process I was hoping to put in motion. Very smooth, I know.
Earlier in the week, I tried helping Eliot confront her fear of the school bathroom. I accompanied her in to show her that “Sweetie, there are no monsters coming out of the toilet.” At which she pointed to a sign which, in fact, clearly depicted monsters coming out of a toilet. What? The wording underneath the picture said: “If you do not flush, the toilet bacteria (illustrations of monster-looking creatures) will come out of it.” One small problem: most five-year-old children cannot read yet. The sign has since been removed. It’s not easy being five.
I have to stop leaving loose change around the house. The reason I say this is because of Alexander’s neverending tooth fairy money. Very suspicious. If he had this many teeth fall out, he would be a toothless old man by now. He’s bought himself a yoyo, a super bouncy ball, a folder and even princess stickers for Eliot.
I caught Eliot looking in the mirror the other day wondering out loud: “When am I going to lose a tooth?” Now when she’s mad at her brother, the new threat (which replaces: “I’m not going to invite you to my party”) is: “I’m not going to buy you something with my tooth fairy money.” So I guess now the two main questions running around in her little head are: “When am I going to lose a tooth?” and “How come Peter Pan never comes to my house?”
Yes, next.
It is illegal (and impossible) to sneak a durian (fruit with very specific odour) on the public bus in Singapore (actually hard to imagine anyone being able to smuggle one out of the country on a plane without the pilot calling for an emergency landing). The pungent and unmistakeable odour would reveal itself in a matter of seconds. It is prohibited not only on buses, but in hotels and in most public places. Clearly underused as an actual weapon of self-defence. Forget the mace can, women could just whip out a durian concealed in a special carry-on bag designed for this very purpose. Attention all fashion designers.
Two words: Changi Prison. And, you will be caned. As expected, there is not a huge incidence of vandalism. It’s a pretty good deterrent.
And, unless you are promised an air-conditioned location as your destination, you will really have no incentive to walk anywhere.
This is the number one reason cited by expats for choosing Singapore over other Asian cities. Especially expats with children. The thing I find unnerving is how few policemen you actually see and how few sirens you hear. Then again, maybe the drilling is drowning them out. Or maybe… the police are really everywhere and you just don’t realize it… the taxi driver, the lady at the checkout counter, the janitor? Or have I just watched too many ‘Bourne Supremacy’ movies? As an aside, what does it take to get a siren turned on in this country? An invasion?
Yes, you will gain pounds and no, do not come here to diet. Most countries have one or two specialties but in Singapore there is an almost embarrassing array of choices: mee goreng, nasi lemak, chili crab, prawn noodles, shrimp dumplings, chicken rice, roti prata…
Recently a famous actor forfeited his French citizenship in favour of a Russian one so that he would no longer be forced to pay the exorbitant 70% tax rate. He really should have had a better tax consultant. One that would have pointed him toward Singapore, not Russia. The winters are so much milder.
When you’re hanging out at the airport even though you don’t have a plane to catch… chances are it’s pretty darn special. Kids love going there and it rivals any kids’ club at five-star resorts that I’ve ever seen. There should just be a fleet of babysitters there so parents could just drop the kids off for the day… or the weekend.