Majulah Singapura!

Spot the tourist…

I only spent one night in Singapore but I can say that as far as cities go, it’s pretty cool. The buses are awesome (especially after a few weeks in Jakarta) and it’s so easy to get around. And so clean! Oh my goodness the cleanliness. It puts London to shame!

One thing I will comment on, though, is the lack of…community? I don’t know if that’s the right word for it, but all the signs, for example, were in 4 different languages. I can get by in Malay and obviously speak English, which should really put me in good stead to get around Singapore, but it didn’t. Singapore seems to have the multiculturality of London but instead of being a capital city, the city is the nation state. In Singapore my belief in the nation state became even weaker. It felt as though the people living there, having no shared language and few shared customs, had little in common. I guess it’s like Indonesia in a way, but Singapore’s diverse and multilingual nature is condensed into a city state rather than spread over a sprawling archipelago.

In Singapore I had the strong sense of being in a former colony – much stronger than anywhere else I’ve ever been. The main shared language, for example, is English but many don’t speak English (quite a few bus drivers, for example…). The main language of a state in the middle of Southeast Asia is English, when neighbouring countries have more local languages as the lingua franca. Why does this little speck in the ocean, consisting of many languages and peoples, call itself a nation? But then why does an entire archipelago full of different ethnic groups like Indonesia call itself a nation?

I find it difficult to feel patriotic or to have a belief in nationalism when I have experienced and continue to experience nations that resemble (for want of a better analogy) flatshares in London. People share a space but continue to live privately, continuing about their everyday lives and rarely sharing experiences. Yet this is the mechanism through which poverty, displacement and war become ‘their problem’. Nations divide the world into units, drawing borders that really don’t exist, especially when you consider the fluidity and heterogeneity of existing states. Nations are supposed to have shared experience, customs and interests but it is as difficult to find that within a single nation state as it is to find across the entire world.

Wah, wah, wah.

One of the things that becomes more and more obvious the longer I’m here is that no matter how well I speak the language, I’ll never really fit in. It’s like I chose to be half and half and to grow up in another country on the other side of the world. But I didn’t choose to be what I am; I just am. I’ve only been here ten days or so and already I’m tired of being referred to as ‘bule’ (white foreigner). While my family and immediate neighbours may get used to having me around (this hasn’t happened yet, but it could happen I suppose), people in shops, restaurants and anywhere outside my immediate bubble will always gawp, especially when I open my mouth and speak Indonesian. Whenever I’m convinced to go along to events with extended family and friends, the talking point when I’m introduced is always ‘So where is she really from?’, that is, I’m clearly not from here and my party trick of speaking Indonesian isn’t convincing anyone.

Some stupid man told my aunt (note: not me, I wasn’t worth talking to directly) that I look Dutch yesterday. I was so offended. Just because I’m pale, it doesn’t mean I look like I’m from the former colonising country of Indonesia. In fact, my ‘bule’ father was from a former colony anyway. I don’t have the motivation or energy to argue when people are so rude. Trying to change the opinion of one person when there’ll just be countless others who think the same feels pretty pointless. But then, when it comes to other things I do try to change individual opinions – on poverty, for example. I guess it just feels pointless when the only person these opinions affects is me.

I’m heeeere!

This is Manohara Pinot - a soap opera star here in Indonesia who’s half Indonesian and half American. The running joke here in Jakarta is that we look alike, and everyone keeps calling me Manohara! We don’t look anything alike but it shows you how all mixed kids are bundled into the same basket over here!

I’m having an amazing time, but have had such little sleep in the past five days that this is all I can bring myself to post. Combination of jet lag and karaoke-ing until the early hours of the morning! You know you’re in Jakarta when…