A day In The Life of A Singapore Immigrant

A Day in The Life of A Singapore Immigrant

15 mins read

I woke up sweating in the air-conditioned room, thanks to the bright sunlight piercing through the curtains. I needed a few minutes to muster the motivation to face what felt like my own version of Groundhog Day as a Singapore immigrant.

A day In The Life of A Singapore Expat

Good Morning from Singapore

The motivation came in the form of a second alarm. I quickly jumped into the shower, dressed, and dashed out without makeup. I had long known the Singapore sun would strip my face with makeup before I reached the day’s first destination. Just before leaving, I bumped into Aunty May. “You came home late yesterday, and now you are out already, ah?” I smiled at her concerned voice, unwilling to drag the conversation long as I would be late. “I am making kue today for Mai Mai’s school thing. I will make extra for you, la ya?!” she offered. “Thanks, Aunty!” I replied before closing the door.

Aunty Mai was baking an extra kue-cake for me and wasn’t my parents’ sibling. Instead, she was my Singapore landlord. Living with the “landlord”, or homeowner, is a pretty common occurrence for immigrants in Singapore, especially if you are a woman who comes, usually alone, from other parts of South East Asia where you are used to sharing your living space with your whole family even as an adult. Originally from Indonesia, I moved to Singapore right after graduating by myself. So that made me fit right into the stereotype.

I walked to the bus stop in front of our HDB block every morning. HDB, or the government housing building, is where 85% of Singaporeans live. They are monotone-looking flats spread throughout the country, only differentiated by the block numbers and, sometimes but rarely, colours. So if you were to blindfold me and put me in the middle of a cluster of HDB blocks, I wouldn’t be able to identify which neighbourhood it was, even though I had been an immigrant in Singapore for eight years.

Commuting in Singapore

A day In Life of A Singapore Expat

The bus would then drop us at the MRT (train station), where I would be taking the train, which meant being packed between hundreds of other commuters like sardines, to get to work. Forget about even checking my phone mindlessly; I was thankful on the days when no one breathed right on my neck. One would think driving a car would be the easier option, but similar to housing, purchasing a vehicle was heavily and expensively regulated in Singapore. Let’s say I could repurchase a house in Indonesia for the same amount of money.

I ran through my day: only one meeting and no report due today, which meant this time I could make it to dinner I planned with my girlfriends. It would be nice to see them again, especially since I had bailed on the last three appointments because of the overtime working culture in Singapore. But then, the train stopped, and I was pushed out of my mind back into the reality of people trying to wriggle out from the train.

Singapore Breakfast

I glanced at my watch and saw I had enough time to grab breakfast. But maybe catch wouldn’t be the right way to describe it. My Singapore breakfast was a sit-down affair with a plate of coconut rice, fried chicken, fried egg, and cucumber. The nasi lemak set would be polished off with sweet hot tea, or “teh-o”, as the locals call it. 

By then, I had been well versed in the local language, Singlish, the colloquial Singaporean English. The simplest way to explain Singlish would be a hybrid-English language peppered with different words from other cultures living in Singapore’s harmony, such as Malay and Mandarin. It’s something one unavoidably picks up after a few years of living in Singapore.

Another thing I gained after living in Singapore for years? My weight, thanks to the daily serving of rice during breakfast.

Working as Singapore Immigrant

I was a few minutes late back to my day, but it didn’t matter compared to the overtime I have been clocking almost every day. I greeted my colleagues and sat down in my cubicle.

A day In The Life of A Singapore Expat

Work was the same. No matter where you are, it is still primarily soul-crushing, except in Singapore, it feels like you are in the UN. Foreigners make up almost half of Singapore. At least my team had a complete ASEAN representative. 

Many languages are spoken throughout the day, loudly and freely, because the rest of us wouldn’t understand. But, after a while, I learned to tune it out. Just like I learned to ignore some colleagues’ work attire, including spaghetti tank tops, see-through tops, and crop tops. HR should have done something about it, but the manager wore short pants.

Lunchtime in Singapore

It had been a good day at work since lunchtime came without me checking the clock every five minutes. One great thing about living in Singapore: there are endless choices of food available within a short walking distance of wherever you are, and it’s cheap, usually set in a food court, which meant I never had to cook or pack lunch for work. I didn’t like it, though, that I had to walk outside to reach the nearby food court in the scorching midday sun.

Kiasu Culture

It’s time to introduce you to a quirky part of Singapore culture. Singapore, as a nation, has a collective FOMO (or Kiasu as the locals lovingly brand themselves), which could be easily observed by the long queues everywhere, including some food stalls. But, on the flip side, if you don’t feel like deciding between a few things, join the longest queue as most people have decided that it’s worth the wait in line.

Today’s queue had decided that I would eat chicken rice.

A day In The Life of A Singapore Expat

Uncle, barbequed chicken rice, wings only,” I told the stall owner. “Wings only?” he questioned me. “Wings only”, I replied. “5.50”, he answered.

It took me some time to grasp that Singapore is not too interested in pleasantries and small talk. There is very little value for “how are you”, “please”, and “thank you” in daily conversation. Yet, despite that, we addressed everyone here as if the nation is one big happy family of uncles and aunties, a cultural-language paradox that I accepted without delving into much.

Singapore Overtime Culture

By the time I got to pause from working on the last-minute report, I had looked out of the window. The orange sky indicated that it was past the regular working hours. I texted my friends, apologising for my absence and giving them the authority to choose our next holiday destination. 

Just tell me where, as long as it’s during the long weekend, I am in “, I typed into the group chat.

I then went downstairs to stretch my legs and fuel my tired mind with a sugary drink. This time it was “teh peng tao pao” — iced milk tea for taking away. My drink came in a plastic bag with a small rope from which you can hold it, another quirky piece of Singapore culture.

I walked back to the office, hung my plastic bag of tea on my cubicle and sipped it slowly while wasting my youth away in front of an excel sheet. “Why am I doing this?” I wondered as I had been many nights before. I looked at my ASEAN colleagues. Why did we slog the 12-hour workday — every day? — Well, we all have different reasons. Some were for the better life, some because of their family and the rest:

My phone beeped “Bangkok?” — “Give me the details. I will book my flight tonight,” I replied to the group chat.

An hour later, my boss packed her bag, which meant it was a good time to go home for the rest of us.

I jetted downstairs 8 minutes after she left the door (a carefully calculated time to ensure we wouldn’t bump into each other for whatever reason outside of the building) and flagged a taxi. 

Conversation with the Taxi Driver Uncle

Taking a taxi in Singapore is a semi-affordable luxury, something I treat myself to now and then after a bad day at work. And cancelling dinner plans for the fourth time, I consider as a bad day. 

The taxi ride felt like a punishment rather than a treat, though.

Some taxi drivers were chatty, and I am okay with that. Some were chatty about Singapore’s current affairs, and I am also okay with that. But there are very few who like to discuss borderline insulting topics, which I wasn’t okay with. Like today during the ride, he ranted about how the living situation had become harder in Singapore in the past decade and how, in his opinion (“if you ask me ah!” — I didn’t ask him), it’s all caused by the influx of immigrants to Singapore. 

I was too polite or maybe too tired to argue. I wondered, though, did he know that I was a Singapore immigrant myself, or just because I called him “uncle”, he assumed I was a local. It saddens me that although Singaporeans respect each other’s culture, foreigners are still not considered a part of the celebrated multiculturalism.

Singapore Neighborhood Mall

Finally, he dropped me at the neighbourhood mall where I would have dinner in another food court. Same as in the afternoon, my options were plenty. Singapore is a potluck of world cuisine indeed. I queued in front of the Indian stall. I missed Amma and was hoping that eating Indian food would cure homesickness. It didn’t, so I got a bubble tea instead. The high quantity of sugar usually helped make me feel a little better, even for a concise while.

I contemplated buying the 4D, the Singapore version of a lottery ticket, but I didn’t want to stand in another queue that day, so I started the twenty blocks walk home. I could have waited for the bus. Unfortunately, the guilty feeling of consuming too much sugar in a day made me choose the former. It’s safe to walk alone in Singapore no matter what time. And I genuinely like these night walks. It’s usually my time to pause from the hectic day and enjoy the small piece of the city during the relatively cooler temperature.

Goodnight Singapore

It had been dark for hours when I finally reached home. I took off my shoe standing while maneuvering my work bag in one hand and my bubble teacup in the other, another skill mastered by years of living in Singapore. Leaving the shoes at the house entrance is the custom in Asia, and Singapore was no different. Inside, I greeted the whole family, transfixed by the 90s martial arts drama on the screen. I made a beeline to my room when I noticed a plate of kue left on my dresser. 

I thanked aunty May, closed the door, opened my laptop, and started munching on the kue while browsing the cheapest flights available to Bangkok during the long weekend.

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29 Comments

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