My house is shabby but it is comfortable

A major contributor to Singapore’s remarkable development success story is a unique political economic philosophy that combines aggressive state planning for the long-term with free market capitalism. Singapore’s Prime Minister of many years, Lee Kuan Yew and its Finance Minister, Goh Keng Swee (who recently passed away) were among the most influential architects and implementers of this philosophy. Like some other aggressively planned societies, Singapore has essentially ended homelessness (a moral blight on America’s economic success story) and provided high quality health care and education for all its citizens. But Singapore’s leaders and its people struggle, as do leaders and peoples in all capitalist societies, with providing financial incentives for the most able citizens, while keeping the gap between rich and poor between within reasonable bounds - and even deciding what is reasonable.

I have wanted to write about this visible dilemma that Singapore faces but puzzled how to do so. I still know so little about this fascinating, engaging, sometimes paradoxical society. If years of studying and writing about Sri Lanka have taught me anything it is is that foreigners should not express facile generalizations about a society in which they are guests without several years - perhaps many years - of experience and study.

For me, however, the puzzle was solved when I encountered a moving essay on the subject by a highly respected Singaporean physician. It first appeared in a professional newsletter during the 2007 recession, to which it refers. Two years later it was reprinted in Singapore’s leading daily newspaper, The Straits Times. I encountered the essay in journalist Tom Plate’s new book, Conversations with Lee Kuan Yew, to which I introduced Dormgrandpop readers a few days ago. The essay is entitled “My House is shabby, but its comfortable.”

While I worry about the poorer Singaporeans who will be hit hard, perhaps the recession has come at an opportune time for many of us. It will give us the incentive to reconsider our priorities in life.

Decades of the good life have made us soft. The wealthy, but also the middle class in Singapore, have had it so good for so long, what they once considered luxuries, they now think of as necessities...

A mobile phone, for instance, is a statement about who you are, not just a piece of equipment for communication. The same attitude influences our choice of attire and accessories. I still find it hard to believe that there are people carrying handbags that cost more than thrice the monthly income of a bus driver and many more times that of the foreign worker laboring in the hot sun, risking his life to construct luxury condominiums he will never have a chance to live in. The media encourages and amplifies this ostentatious consumption.

My family is not poor, but we have been brought up to be frugal. My parents and I live in the same house that my paternal grandparents and their children moved into after World War II. It is a big house by today’s standards, but it is simple - in fact, almost to the point of being shabby. Those who see it for the first time are astonished that Minister Mentor LKY’s home is so humble, but it is a comfortable house, a home we have got used to. Though it does look shabby compared to the new mansions on our street, we are not bothered by the comparison.

Most of the world and much of Singapore will lament the economic downturn. We have been told to tighten our belts. There will undoubtedly be suffering, which we must try our best to ameliorate. But I personally think the hard times will hold a timely lesson for many Singaporeans, especially those born after 1970 who have never lived through difficult times. No matter how poor you are in Singapore, the authorities and social groups do try to ensure you have shelter and food. Nobody starves in Singapore...

Being wealthy is not a sin. It cannot be in a capitalist market economy. Enjoying the fruits of one’s own labour, is one’s prerogative and I have no right to chastise those who choose to live luxuriously. But if one is blinded by materialism, there would be no end to wanting and hankering.

After the Ferrari, what next? An Aston Martin? After the Hermes Birkin handbag, what can one upgrade to? Neither an Aston Martin nor a Hermes Birkin can make us truly happy or contented. They are like dust, a fog obscuring the true meaning of life and can be blown away in the twinkling of an eye.

When the end approaches and we look back on our lives, will we regret the latest mobile phone or luxury car that we did not acquire? Or would we prefer to die at peace with ourselves, knowing that we have lived lives filled with love, friendship and goodwill, that we have helped some of our fellow voyagers along the way and that we have tried our best to leave this world a slightly better place than we found it.

We know what is the correct choice - and it is within our power to make that choice.... We should not follow the herd blindly.

The essay’s author is Dr. Lee Wei Ling, Minister Mentor Lee Kuan Yew’s Daughter and Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong’s sister.

"Tell me what you like about Singapore?"

A relative wrote yesterday seeking news of my stay, so far. “Tell me what you like about Singapore?" she asked. Here was my response:

When most Westerners think of Singapore, they think of shopping centers. but what attracted me was the way the government and people overcame great adversity at the time of independence to create a society in which there is almost no poverty or homelessness. I think the homelessness in Washington DC, especially the homelessness of children is a moral outrage. Did you know that in Singapore, more than 85 per-cent of the population live in public housing apatments (they call them HDB (Housing Development Board flats). which they own!

I like the public transit. A relatively small number of Singaporeans have cars though, still, there is a fair amount of car traffic. You can go anywhere where by bus and Metro or if you need them, by inexpensive government subsidized taxis. I like the 'Hawker's stands" where you can get a great Chinese, Malay or Indian meal for less than $3.00 (a bit more if you want to top it off with a Tiger Beer). I like the cleanliness, the greenery, the beautiful parks, the fact that Singapore gives more priority to public space that private space. I like the multiculturalism. I like the fact that Singaporeans are, for the most part, polite, helpful, courteous and they work hard. This winter, especially, I like the fact that it is warm. Tomorrow, I am going to buy a portable bicycle.

My love to all

John

Singapore Explorations - The East Coast

Even though there is enough work to fill both days of every weekend, I have decided that taking Saturday afternoons off for exploration is probably good for physical and mental health. The East Coast, along the route to Changi airport, was recommended by an acquaintance I met at the Kent Vale bus stop as a place I should include in my itinerary.

After braving Orchard Road mobs to run an errand I piled into a crowded bus heading for “Marine Parade Promenade.” After a few minutes I was able to get a seat. I was glad of this. Traffic was heavy so the trip was a long one. The only problem with Singapore’s ‘Go There’ bus-route directions that names of stops provided by the system and names printed on the roofs of the bus halt shelters rarely correspond. Thus, inexperienced users must constantly try to count stops and crane their necks, seeking identifiable landmarks.

On this trip, however, there was no problem since “Marine Parade Promenade” seemed to be almost every passenger’s destination. But the "Promenade" was very different than I anticipated - it was simply a long open air shopping mall, adjoining several Housing Development Board high rises, serving needs of the Common People. (I shall hereafter use this Confucian term to distinguish ordinary Singaporeans from high-end Orchard Road shoppers and, since I am living on a very modest budget, include myself among them.)

But where were the water-views that had been described to me? Walking towards the East, beyond the Promenade and public outdoor spaces of the housing complex, what I encountered was not a beach view, but a chain link fence. On the other side was an eight to ten lane highway, with traffic rushing and no apparent way to cross. It appeared that Singapore, like most seaside urban centers, had chosen to use its coastline for transportation, the amenities it could have provided for Common People be damned.

As I walked along the pedestrian path adjoining the chain link fence, however, a tunnel appeared. “Underpass to The Beach Front” was the message on an adjoining sign, pointing to the entrance. Since this is Singapore, there were also signs mandating good behavior and fines that would be imposed for violations ($1000 for bicycling in the passageway, for example). The long passage way was clean, brightly lighted, and filled with pedestrians of all ages, sizes and nationalities, walking to and fro.

When I emerged at the other end, I was amazed to find a many-meters-wide park, with no commercial development, adjoining an unsullied beach, with hundreds of families, couples and individuals enjoying this natural setting. The only improvements were a paved pathway for bicycling and skateboarding and another for walking. To the North - towards the airport - and the south towards the central city, the park stretched as far as the eye could see. In the ocean, a few miles offshore, there were as many ships anchored as I have every seen in once place - ships carrying the wealth and goods of a globalized economy to Singapore and providing tax revenues for Singapore’s government to support parklands such as one in which I was standing and other amenities for Common People that are all to rare in urban settings.

In the evening twilight I re-traversed the underpass, concluding my day with Roast Duck Noodles and Tiger Beer at a hawkers’ stand. Walking back through the Marine Parade Promenade I piled on a crowded bus for the long journey, by bus, MRT and bus back to my Kent Vale apartment. My slow progression up the learning curve regarding Singapore society, especially lives of Common People, continued.

There is more to Singapore than shopping malls

When I told an acquaintance that I would be living for six months in Singapore, her response was immediate and disparaging. “That’s not a place I would like to live, she opined. It is too clean, orderly, authoritarian and filled with shopping malls.”

Singapore is clean and more orderly than most Asian cities. There is no air pollution, virtually no homelessness, relatively few traffic jams. There are no mosquitoes - something a frequent Sri Lankan resident can appreciate. The government does prohibit gum chewing and administers strokes of the cane for vandalism. (However young men are not, as in the US, raped in Singapore’s prisons; then Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew pointed this out when a US teenager was sentenced to six strokes of the cane for spray painting graffiti on cars,) Its public rail and bus systems are clean, affordable and available. They put New York City and Washington DC to shame.

But what about all those shopping malls? The Orchard Parade Hotel, into which I checked last Saturday morning, is located at the intersection of Orchard and Tangllin Street, in the heart of Singapore’s shopping district. Last year I counted the number of shopping malls in the Orchard Road district on a tourist map. As I recall, there were 19. If you confined your promenades this district you might, indeed, conclude that Singapore was filled with malls and little else. Shopping malls are one of Singapore’s economic engines, though not the only one. They attract wealthy tourists from throughout Asia and suck money out of their wallets, purses and credit-card accounts like powerful magnets. The profits enrich Singapore’s increasingly affluent business class, but also to provide jobs and the tax revenues that help to support public transport, the public housing in which many Singaporeans live, clean water than can be drunk out of the tap, a police force that international ranking agencies have identified as one of the least corrupt in the world; efficient, courteous government services, high-quality relatively inexpensive health care and much more.

As I walked up and down Orchard Road and neighboring streets during my first two days, conducting informal, unstructured ethnographic field research, two things became clear. First, Orchard Road and its environs are one of Singapore’s urban promenades, much like the banks of the Seine in Paris, Piazza’s in Italian cities, Piccadilly Circus and Hyde Park in London and similar gathering and walking spaces on other cities. The crowds of - mostly - young people who stroll up and down, and the young people who work as sales persons are not buying Louis Vutton luggage, Armani watches, Jean Patou perfumes and the like. Probably their principal purchases on a Saturday or Sunday outing to Orchard Road are a meal or a drink in one of the sidewalk cafes or restaurants. Possibly they may also purchase a small recreational or fashion item item or necessary in one of the lower end establishments. But their experience of the high-end brand-name establishments for which Orchard Road is famous is mostly vicarious.

So where do ordinary Singaporeans shop for the necessities of life and where do they take their small children for a stroll or to play? In my next blog I will begin to write about another Singapore that I am discovering, some distance from the glitz and glitter of the Orchard Road District. I am beginning to discover - and enjoy- the places where most Singaporeans spend most of their shopping budgets and their working and leisure hours.

Colombo and Singapore - Not a Good Trip, but a Good Ending

Update from Singapore. I have been here almost exactly a week, but I have not been sufficiently disciplined to collect my recollections in one or more blogs. Tonight, sitting in my comfortable room at the Copthorne Orchid Hotel, on Bukit Timah street, Singapore, I am getting down to the task.

Another excuse for not writing is that I have been sick. Not flat on your back or rush to the emergency room sick and, apparently not infected by the H1,N1 flu virus about which there has been a lot of concern everywhere I traveled. Just one of those debilitating, broad spectrum malaises that saps ones energy and can erode the spirit as well, if one allows it. It has been accompanied by a persistent, hacking cough. Probably new colleagues at the Lee Kuan Yew School’s Water Policy Institute, though they have been unfailingly cordial, are viewing me with roughly the same level of enthusiasm as I viewed my recent traveling companions.

For my malaise was contracted on the Colombo-Kuala Lumpur leg of my Colombo-Singapore flight on Sri Lankan Airlines. It was almost entirely fully populated by a cadre of elderly Malaysians who must have been on some sort of tour - or perhaps they were being surreptitiously evacuated from a Tuberculosis (or H1, N1) isolation ward at Colombo’s General hospital. The wheezing and coughing was that bad and it continued without interruption through the entire flight. Mostly the hackers covered their mouth and nose when they coughed, but not always. I just knew I was going to get sick and, of course, I did.

The airport checkin wasn’t all that great either. When I fly out of Colombo it is normally to London and I spring for a business class seat. My marvelous Sri Lankan travel agent, with whom I have dealt for nearly twenty years, arranges a very reasonable rate. Check in is not a problem. For this short flight, however, I chose economy. The check in lines were long, disorganized and moved at glacial pace. Check in took more than two hours and I just barely caught my flight.

It is easy to make contrasts between Sri Lanka and Singapore, most of which are not favorable to Sri Lanka. I mostly will resist the temptation. Readers know that I love Sri Lanka. Dysfunctional check-in lines and a planefull of contageous companions are not likely to dim that affection.

But Singapore’s Changi Airport is quite remarkable in the way it processes large numbers of passengers congenially and efficiently. Lines can be fairly long, as they were at immigration, but move briskly. When one is in doubt, there is almost always an information counter nearby or, more likely, a helper at one’s elbow to courteously offer assistance in fluent English (and probably other languages too). Things are quite different than in Colombo or at dysfunctional Frankfurt Airport on which I reported in an earlier posting.

But where were the two bags I had checked in Colombo? I waited... and waited...and waited. The group of passengers standing hopefully beside the conveyer belt dwindled. Ominously, a message flashed on the TV screen above the belt, “all bags from the aircraft have been loaded on the belt.” My bag had not appeared. I began to scan about for that least welcome of all airport kiosks, the lost baggage claim center.

But wait... a crisply dressed young man appeared at my elbow. “Can I help you?” he asked, cheerfully, “you look as if you have been waiting a long time.” I acknowledged the truth of his observation and, at is request, produced my claim checks. I had learned my lesson in Frankfurt and they were right at hand.

By what Karmic magic the young man accomplished this feat, I will never know, but shortly after he had looked at my tags, but as far as I can tell, taken no other action, my bags magically appeared on the near empty conveyer. “Are those yours?", he asked and when I nodded he said “good” in a satisfied voice. We matched the claim checks, just to be sure. “Who are you,” I queried gratefully. “Oh. I’m from the airport baggage lost and found department,” he responded with a smile as we went our separate ways.

I had arrived in Singapore.

There's a lot more to Singapore than shopping

Obviously most Singaporians don’t spent most of their time shopping, though it might seem so from walking the length of Orchard Road in the early evening In fact, I would assume that most cannot afford the high fashion items on sale, nor take a $50 plus meal in one of the upscale restaurants on a shopping mall’s upper floor or along the canal in the fashionable Clark Quay neighborhood. As in every city, they are servers in the restaurants, clerks in the shopping malls, small proprietors in little India storefront boutiques or Chinatown hawkers stands, taxi drivers, students and street sweepers. I have taken particular note of the street sweepers. As in most countries, including the US, they are shorter that the average population and have darker skins. In Singapore, they wear iridescent vests to alert drivers to their presence. When I see them, the “epsilons” described by Aldous Huxley in Brave New World come to mind, though their lowly status is dictated by circumstance, not genetic conditioning.

One thing Singapore’s epsilons apparently do not do is live in slums, though perhaps some of the low end high rise complexes may have slum like qualities. Only after crossing the border into Malaysia did slum shanties appear, nestled along the rail track as in Sri Lanka and India. In KL, I was told, there were high-rise slum communities.

On a first visit to Singapore - to any area where one travels as a tourist - one mostly sees the Alphas and Betas. One may come in contact with the Deltas and Epsilons, but even then they are almost invisible amidst the bustle and glitter. On my next visit, seeking them out will be a priority.

POSTSCRIPT.
In reading this over later I felt a qualification was needed. Singapore's Little India, where I stayed was a much more diverse community, not unlike one that would be found in Colombo, Delhi or Mumbai. And at the Sunday morning (Anglican) Church services, the congregation was diverse, large, not overtly wealthy, and very hospitable.