My son walked towards his favorite porridge stall and the stall holders confirmed his greatest fear, that they have decided to throw in the towel and rent their stall out while they migrate to Fujian, China. The auntie looked apologetically at his loyal customer, as he walked away dejected but only for 2 minutes before he found what will likely be his favorite stall for the next month.
"钱是赚不完的" (meaning you can never earn enough money), they told me, as I tried hard to hear them through the cacophony of three different Chinese New Year music in the hawker center. She said she suffered from constant headaches from the noise, and she was really tired having to wake at 5 a.m. to cook and finish work at only 11 p.m. when the stall closes. She wanted to go to China and retire there with her husband, where she bought land and have a house, and where they can afford the country-side costs. She has relatives there and will settle in fine, she told me. She will rent the stall to a Mainland Chinese to sell noodles 面条, generating her good recurring income.
Over the last decade, Singaporeans seem to be migrating to anywhere you can think of, and not restricted to more common favorites like Australia, the US and parts of South East Asia. Equipped with the training to survive in a competitive environment, many do really well. While just five years ago, I thought those who left the country I love the most were quitters, conceited folks or ‘western worshippers’, I suddenly found myself understanding why people are leaving and even am starting to wonder who would want to stay. While many must have been attracted by the myriads of opportunities in other countries, and ‘pulled’ to migrate, I started to see some must have been ‘pushed’ out as well.
We had no choice but to look outside the country to ensure the children continue their education and if we wanted to keep our promises to our kids to support them in what they choose to do. We found ourselves at the dead end of the educational path for two of my children, and foresee the same for the other two within two years. So we left, with only two enrolled in universities, and an unknown future for the rest with only tourist visas. I was not afraid of what was ahead of me, as nothing was going to be worse than ‘nothing more we can do for you’ even for an eleven year old.
After knocking around for about three months, we managed to find our own miracle by getting our residency in another country. I realized every country is just like Singapore, hunting for talent, and we were ‘recognized’ as special talents. So this is the ironical part: while we felt useless vis-à-vis foreigners and locals in Singapore, another country thought we were special talents for the same attributes we displayed in our home country. My experience tells me that our system is good at mass production and rewards conformity. Therefore, people who fall too much to the left OR right side of the bell curve will not find a place to survive in our country. I found this strange, because it is those on the left or right to the bell curve who are special and therefore are the most valuable. And so I began to understand why people leave, and the benefit of leaving.
I was in for many surprises initially. When I had to get some stitches on my forehead, I just drove to the nearest public hospital with a short waiting queue and really understanding nurses. To test that I was still sane after the knock, they asked me who the leader of the country was, and I struggled to answer. After the procedure, I kept waiting at the waiting area to pay, only to be told I could go home. There was no cashier – it was free. My kids can now go to public schools, also free, save for their uniforms and stationery. I went for dental treatments, x-rays, specialist clinics, and still get pleasantly surprised when the counter staff told me I needed to pay just 10-20% of my private hospital treatment, the government picks up the rest. I have now taken insurance so I don’t have to pay that 10 - 20% too.
I saw my friend’s 90 year old mother being picked up by a van each day to a center for the aged, where she would spend the day with activities and care, and the same van would return her home, free. I saw how children would laughed as they roller blade each day on the roads outside our house after school, there was no tuition to attend, and no tuition center in any mall. My kids were allowed to attend university as young as 12 years old, other kids are allowed to study at their own pace and still do well in life, and we were never told it was wrong to be different. I was never called up when the kids did not finish their home work, their teachers made them finish the work during recess. When my child failed to behave in school, I was never told I was a useless mother who failed to discipline. The class size of 25 is always small enough for me. The people do not push me in and out of trains, the traffic is never like a car park even at peak period. The neighbors brought flowers to our house when we first moved in, and still collect our mails for us when we are not at home. The tax is high, everyone acknowledges, but few complain excessively.
But I miss my char kway teow, the chicken rice, the shopping mall, my students and my mum. I have to be a lot more alert and prudent when I travel around and ensure I pick up the children in time. I need to have a lot more common sense. But I also love that the gardener does not think he is ‘of a lower class’, I love that the surgeon did not think he was sent from heaven to bless this earth. The soldiers are proud and paid their full pay, and are sent over the world to help those they believe they should. I love that I am just an ordinary person, even with rights less than that of the citizens (and rightfully so).
When my students come back from overseas exchange programs, they will tell me similar stories about a world they have never known: where people did not have to bury their heads daily into their books and walk over each other just to get ahead and survive. Yes, even those who come back from Korea. They realize there are many paths to success. Unfortunately, many have plans to migrate so that their children need not suffer what they did in education, and they also began to see we need not strive so hard and still not succeed. I tell them they are young, they are talented, there are many countries that want them and that they have options. Yet, there is still a part of me that prefers them to stay for the future of Singapore, so that people who are familiar with the culture, the strange behavior and the ‘ugliness’ of Singaporeans will lead it and run it one day. I hope to come home, and not be a stranger.
What will the new Singapore look like, with more and more migrants, and less and less ‘natives’ who themselves become migrants. What’s happening to the wonderful people who speak many other languages but none of any well, drive like they are crazy, went through strange courtesy campaigns, have compassionate hearts beyond any on this earth and study like mad. I have a feeling we will get to see less and less of them in one country, and more and more of them in many countries. I just hope that I can still get to eat Chinese, Malay and Indian rojak, Oar Luak, Ta Mee, and Zhu Chao and not just 面条， 饺子and 小笼包 in hawker centers in my old age.
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