About to become the 15,001 American expatriate living in Singapore, someone declared that it'd be brilliant idea to chronicle the experience. I don't think so but what the hell! Here is a blog written by the naive, exploring and handsome American and the Singaporean crazy enough to take him in.
So a lot of my Singaporean readers have been up in arms lately, demanding to know why I haven't written a thing about Hawker Centres... which prompt my American readers to ask why I am talking about a shopping market? There is a little quirk to the corner of my mouth at the American confusion and Singaporean grumblings.
I have waited to discuss the Hawker Centres for two reasons:
I wanted to visit a few to get the feeling of their general themes and commonalities.
I needed to be starved enough to actually go and not end up ordering Western Food.
So let's quickly educate the Americans and other non-Singaporeans reading this post, who of course are asking what the heck a Hawker Centre is?
Hawker Centres are old style food-markets, much like a food court in a mall, but are almost always located in open-air pavilions, where individuals can buy many traditional Singaporean meals (with an even split of Muslim, India, Chinese and Japanese foods). They are considered a pillar of Singaporean tradition and culture and never have I been to one, day or night, that wasn't filled with people dining on a variety of dishes.
When I explain this to people and get a look of confusion I instead point to the food carts that seem to troll the city side-walks of most American cities, selling everything from falafels to burgers. Then I point out the delis, bodegas and delicatessen where we can buy either quick groceries or grab a sandwich. The Singapore government, feeling that these stalls were unhygienic (seriously look inside on and you'd scream!) decided to move them all to one location, where it would be easier to police them and keep them clean.
My first real exposure to Hawkers was Singapore Day in New York in Summer of 2012, when the Singapore government flew famous Hawkers from all over the country into Prospect Park in Brooklyn, New York, to sell traditional Singaporean dishes to the estimated 3,500 Singaporeans who lived in the city. My boyfriend first explained what a Hawker was in vague tone to me. Now looking back on it I do believe in earnest that he enjoys to see me exposed to unknown cultures and ideas, to see me grow and learn with as little guidance or influence from him as needed... either that or he get's sadistic pleasure seeing me flustered and confused!
Here the stalls sell traditional Singapore dishes, like Laksa noodles to Tom Yum Soup to Black Pepper Beef to Almond Bean Curd and all at readily affordable prices. Why pay S$10 at McDonalds for a burger when you could get three times as much at a Hawker Centre for the same? Most consider it be economical to dine at such establishments, for some its the last stronghold to a culture that is rapidly becoming westernised, with air-conditioned food courts and restaurants slowly driving them out.
Hawker Centres seem to occupy this double-standard in Singapore culture. They tend to be located in areas near the less affluent, near public housing or in areas known for their lower-income levels. However they are frequented by Singaporeans of all levels and most will rave its the only place to get authentic local food.
But when you enter one of these establishments you must remember some rules before you really can get into it:
Hawker Centres are NOT known for their hygiene. The government rewards those stalls that rate favourably with lower rents to incentivize and frequently survey the centres but it is not uncommon to find vendors with a C-rating. When you approach a counter for your meal, its time to enact the blinders. Nothing ruins your delicious meal faster than seeing the disarray of the kitchen behind the counter... and delicious they can be!
Few Hawkers speak perfect English as a first language. If you don't get one, either point at what you want or speak slowly but never become frustrated, they will not hesitate to call you out for being rude!
A smile and thank you can mean the difference between being served with a scowl or with a special treat. Most of those working in Hawker Centres are older (retired Singaporeans tend to live with their children but also like to do part-time jobs to feel useful). A kind word of thanks and understanding can get you a grateful smile from the Auntie delivering your Laska and sometimes, she'll toss in a free coke or a complimentary orange wedge to clear your pallet.
You don't have to tip, but maybe letting them keep the change can win you some brownie points if you frequent a particular stall. I haven't paid for my lunch-time coke in almost three weeks because the Aunties know I always leave my change in the tip jar.
Hawker Centres are normally crowded around any meal time. Don't get your food right away, instead find your seat first, have a friend hold your spot while you gather your food and when you return, hold their seat as they do the same. If there is not someone to physically hold the spot, customers will not hesitate to move your things.
Never order western food at a Hawker Centre... NEVER! Even if the stall has menu items for spaghetti or burgers or pizza, this is closer to what the Hawker vendors thinks it should be... not what it is. Spaghetti is made with entirely too much butter and they add hot peppers to it! Burgers tend to be dry, since the beef patties are normally cooked too long. I was thrilled to get cheesy fries... only to realize they'd melted slices of American cheese over my fries and then drown it in ketchup... such blasphemy! I have only found one stall in three-months that makes an adequate burger and even then, its only with a lot of leeway I give it to accept such a title!
That is the wisdom I can impart about Hawker Centres. Don't set your bar high, ignore the worse and I guarantee you are going to have some... interesting... food.
So the news has hit Asia and I can't help but feel both ecstatic and sad at the same time. Defence of Marriage Act has officially been repelled by the United States Supreme Court, sweeping over two-decades of institutional discrimination away in one sweeping move. Even better, widespread public and political support of the measure means that it is unlikely the United States legislature will ever be able to get another federal law like this one onto the books.
My Facebook and Gmail Inbox has been brimming with congratulations, explosions of happiness and lengthy declarations of support. However all have been coloured with the same running theme... Now you can come home...
Yes, the chances for us to return to the United States as a couple protected under the law instead of separate beings subjected to discrimination and different rules designed to separate us, has just been increased by leaps and bounds.
Are we going to be boarding a plane right now and heading back to the States... no...
Unfortunately, I am one of thousands of Americans who when given the choice between being separated from their foreign-born significant other or going abroad with them, I chose abroad to stay with the man I loved. The mass exodus of bi-national LGBT-couples returning is not going to happen tomorrow, it can't... because while we'd love to return to grand ole' America, we are also Human beings... we have jobs, homes, bills and uprooting that all, picking up everything and returning them to the States is not something that can be done lightly and not without an immense amount of forethought.
Yes, I left the country very abruptly but we can consider that fortune of destiny. I had just left a job with a start up I really wasn't enjoying (I was running the fine line between over-worked and apathy to said work), decided to downgrade the Manhattan apartment when rents began to rise and was dealing with the fact that my boyfriend's work visa had expired. That was the fate's aligning in my favour.
In Singapore however I have taken a job with a company I find myself enjoying immensely, gotten a nearby apartment who's rent is lower than New York's by miles and have begun to build a small group of friends in this country... now the fates are not in my favour.
But while this is a sad moment for many of my readers who I count among my friends and were rooting for my speedy return to States, it is more of a time to root for the fact that we can now return as a legal couple, protected under the law like never before in our nation's history.
And we all have Edith 'Edie' Windsor and Thea Spyer to thank for that.
Just like my previous post Defense of our (Gay)Marriage Aspirations from almost three-months ago, let's have a quick history lesson. Listen up kiddies, cause this should be filed away with such historical civil rights achievements like the Stonewall Riots, Loving v. Virginia and almost every other great civil rights victory from Rosa Parks to Daniel Savage.
In 2007, these two New York residence, married in Toronto after more than 40-years together. Tragically Spyer passed away in 2009, just as New York legally recognized same-sex marriage performed in other jurisdictions. Spyer left her entire estate to her widow... who had to pay $363,000 in federal estate taxes for the right to inherit her wife's estate.
Here's a critical thing to pay attention to, for heterosexual couples, no taxes are owed if the spouse inherits less than $3.5 million. Since DOMA refuses the government to see same-sex couples as not married under federal estate laws and as such, the change of property regardless if they are willed to another is seen as a transfer of ownership and not inheriting to a spouse.
Windsor paid the amount... and then followed it up by suing the federal government for discriminating against her.
With her lawyer, Roberta Kaplan through the ACLU and ran the case through the U.S. District Court for the Southern District of New York which ruled that section 3 of DOMA was unconstitutional. Though she had won Windsor pushed on and when the Justice Department attempted to file notice on the appeal, the Second Circuit Court upheld the ruling again. It was the first federal court of appeals decision to hold that laws that classify people based on sexual orientation should be subject to intermediate scrutiny. Finally Windsor filed petition for the Supreme Court, the highest court in the country, to argue that DOMA violated the Fifth Amendment's right of equal protection.
In a narrow vote in favour, the Supreme Court found section 3 of DOMA to be unconstitutional, stating "as a deprivation of the equal liberty of persons that is protected by the Fifth Amendment." Justice Anthony Kennedy voted in favour of repelling the law, joined by Justices Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Stephen Breyer, Sonia Sotomayor, and Elena Kagan. Chief Justice John Roberts and Justices Antonin Scalia and Samuel Alito voted in dissent to keep the law.
And in concurrence, Hollingsworth v. Perry nullified Proposition 8, a constitutional amendment that rendered previously legal same-sex marriage in California illegal. In 30 days post its nullification, same-sex marriage will again be legal in California, raising the number of states where same-sex marriage is legal to thirteen. Now LGBT couples can wed in California, Connecticut, Delaware, Iowa, Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, Minnesota, New Hampshire, New York, Rhode Island, Vermont, and Washington, the District of Columbia and five Native American tribes.
With the support of President Obama, the first sitting president to come out in favour of same-sex marriage, a widespread ideological split in the Republican Party who had originally made opposition to same-sex marriage a party platform and 55% public support of same-sex marriage, it is expected that another law like DOMA to again re-establish a federal law against homosexual unions will now be almost impossible, if not subject to much stricter legal review before it ever gets close to vote.
And while we now exist in a legal patchwork, where certain laws and rights exist in some states and not in others, it sets a legal precedence in favour of same-sex marriage, the same precedence that DOMA tried to squash in 1996 when Hawaii was considering such laws in favour.
Gay married couples will soon be able to apply for social security and survivor benefits, file jointly for federal return taxes, gain employee benefits for the care of sick spouses, children, parents or in-laws, gain health insurance coverage and especially in the case of Ms Windsor, estate taxes. Immigration laws will of course follow, but in the interim, we are all existing in a legal free-fall to see where the issue eventually lands. The federal government is expected to pay back all the money they took from her... plus interest.
And that kiddies is the end of our story... for now...
Until next time, this is AngMoh, cheering the homeland on from far across the Pacific and wishing his fellows some luck in the next big step in the Gay Civil Rights Movement and a hope to arrive in time to see it achieve complete fruition.
I wake up this morning, in my otherwise dark bedroom and thank all that is holy that our landlord invested in some heavy curtains. However in a second my still sleep addled brain registers something else. At first it senses as hickory smoked bacon and my stomach growls, demanding such a delightful treat. Then it registered there is no bacon (A great act of heresy my stomach declares!) but instead just the smell of smoke.
Most people would wake with a start, screaming fire and desperately trying to discover the source of the smoke billowing into their room.
Instead my feeling is general annoyance, I know its the smell of haze that has invaded my bedroom, through a forgotten bathroom window left open the night before!
One step outside my front door and I can't see more than a hundred or so feet from my HDB flat, the towering cranes of Singapore Harbour are faint outlines in the clouds, the boats and ocean beyond them are lost in the white wash. Every second outside and my throat burns hots from the smoke and the sting irritates my eyes.
A step back in and I can see the faint flush of white between my front door and the kitchen, noticing with great annoyance that the shirts I hung to dry the night before now smell like ash, forcing me to invent several colourful curse words as I toss them back into the washer. I know its a waste but what is the point, even if I won't wear them until weeks after the haze is finally gone, they'll still smell of smoke and make everything else in my closet smell just as bad.
I grumble to myself on my way into work, finding that the streets are lost in this hot haze and everyone has adopted a surgical face mask as their fashion accessory of choice. Those that are not fortunate have taken to hold handkerchiefs over their faces, wrapped scarves about their heads, people have even fashioned palm leafs into woven masks to cover their nose and mouths.
I managed to snag a box from the pharmacy downstairs, though I note after my purchase that the price on the box is barely a third of what my wallet says was stolen out of it. But still I draw the mask over my face and instantly hate the feeling of my own hot breath blowing back into my face, making my cheeks and mouth literally sweat as the heat of the surrounding air seems to double in strength. Silently I thank all that is holy for a second time that morning that I went with my orange flavoured mouthwash instead of the piercing peppermint one. But it doesn't help as my hot breath keeps flushing up and out of the top of the mask, fogging my glasses and forcing me to walk nearly two avenues to work pinching the top of the cloth, trying to keep my spectacles clear.
Arriving at work, trying to work a paper napkin over my forehead to do away with the sweat that's gathered after my barely 10-minute walk to the office, I notice a few responses to my Facebook updates from the night before and have to stifle a groan at the responses some people have sent me:
"What are you talking about? Haze?"
"Has a volcano erupted in Asia?"
"Why are all the pictures you post of fog? I love a foggy morning!"
"Why does everyone in Asia wear those face masks?"
To cover all of them at once, here's the story and pardon me if I come off annoyed recounting it, but most people lost in the haze cloud are very perturbed.
Last week, as the dry season (Summer for South-East Asia) began, farmers in nearby Sumatra, Indonesia, started to clear new land for growing. To do this they went with the cheapest and fastest way to get rid of the otherwise wall of plants and jungle, employing slash and burning tactics. Literally, they set a fire and wait as the dry air and nature's fury goes to work. It wouldn't hurt many other than the locals around the fire but Sumatra lays directly in an array of wind patterns that generally blow northward... into heavily populated Singapore. Worse, the wind patterns of the region tend to circle the island of Singapore, meaning that once the smoke has arrived, nature keeps the white burning clouds swirling around it like a suffocating hurricane.
If it couldn't get worse, haze (the smoke ash cloud) actually traps heat and sucks up moisture, making the already tropical weather hotter and the air drier. Since the dry season entails a lack of rain, this is further exacerbated because relief from a storm is near impossible.
The result, a hot, dry cloud of smoke has settled over the island, a fresh breeze now causes your eyes to sting, your throat to hurt and your cloths smell like smoke.
Of course it makes people uncomfortable but one look at the Pollutant Standard Index (PSI) issued hourly by the government can make your eyes bug out. On average, Singapore enjoy's beautiful weather and has a PSI that sits on average below 50. Between 51 to 100 is considered moderate air quality, 101 to 200 is unhealthy air quality, 201 - 300 is considered very unhealthy air quality and above 300 is designated hazardous.
Today for the first in history, the Singapore PSI rating was 400!
Check out the PSI ratings for the last five days below. Hint: Black is considered BAD.
What has Indonesia's response to a few of their farmers literally bringing the health of an entire country of five-million into question. To say it was callous and dismissive would be an understatement, insulting and pretentious is what I thought when I first read it.
According to Channel New Asia, the Indonesia minister appointed to the crisis, Agung Laksono has publicly decried Singapore's outrage at the situation as almost laughable!
"Singapore should not be behaving like a child and making all this noise," Laksono said, while his government concurrently blamed Singaporean and Malaysian palm oil companies (vegetable oil) who own or buy from those slash & burn farmers for allowing their suppliers to continue using the cheap practice of burning forests over the expensive practice of mechanically clearing them.
Laksono's dismissive remarks have of course sparked outrage in the country and the Singaporean government has angry rebuffed the remarks. They have both declared for decisive action to be taken while offer financial aid to help combat the fires, aid that Indonesia has refused, declaring it too small to make a difference and saying the country would handle the issue itself. An idea to use cloud seeding, dropping sodium shells into rain clouds to force them to rain, was floated about between both countries but again, we are in the first weeks of the dry season, a period of three months where rain is scarce... hence why the haze crisis is of even greater concern.
The Minister's response is a very common one from Indonesia, who have a history of dismissing Singapore as nothing more than an island who's a little too full of itself and too prone to complaining about things. The response is also very common how Indonesia responds to most of Asia, that it can do what it wants... a disconcerting hold over attitude from 90s tenure of Indonesian President Suharto, which generally were marred by economic crisis, institutional corruption and a Western-backed invasion of East Timor, which was known for its brutal violence that led to 100,000 deaths!
With the politicians point fingers and bicker, the people of Singapore are left to adapt however they can:
Surgical face masks have nearly sold out, with stores refusing advance ordering to avoid hoarding. For those that are sold our, specially designed vitamin packs to help against the smoke. (Don't buy from people on the corner selling them unless your desperate, rumour has it they are just sewing cheap tissues together which are good for like an hour before they fall apart!)
The Ministry of Manpower is considering a work stop for all individuals who work outside (construction workers, delivery men, truck drivers) because their health can not be guaranteed. Last time that happened in 1997, Singapore lost over S$6-billion in lost revenue, health claims and a slowed economy.
Planes at Changi Airport have been delayed as pilots are advised to take longer periods of time to land during the white-out.
Nurses are handing out face masks on public transit, where most transit stations are open air.
Malls and shopping centres have encouraged patrons to shut doors behind them, even posting security and reception to make sure none are left open to allow smoke inside.
Outdoor temples have begun to deploy overhead canvas, to protect their worshippers.
Offices have advised office workers to stay inside, if they need to go outside take a complimentary face mask to be safe. If you feel sick, stay home (Honestly the windows are better sealed in the office and the air conditioner is industrial size, I feel safer at work then at home!)
Restaurants are selling winter melon soup by the gallon, claiming it will help battle the toxins in the air. It honestly tastes like pork broth, if you've ever had Wonton soup and you'll know the flavour! It's surprisingly invigorating.
Well until next time, AngMoh waiting out haze and wishing all of Singapore good health in the cloud skies.
Today's weather is a high of 90*F, rain showers in the evening... and a smoke haze all day. That's right, no matter where you are outside, a thin white fog seems to cover everything and the taste of burned ash stings your throat.
The reason for this smoky air is caused by forest fires in Indonesia and according to the weather channels, it is just one of several months to come where the smoke haze is expected to hang over the whole island.
Yep, we are getting hit by smoke from a fire that is 156-mile away (Fine, 251-kilometres!)
It all started Friday evening, I left work happy to sign the lease to our new HDB apartment when I stepped outside. At first I didn't notice it, I was in a rush to grab a nice cold lime juice (a local equivalent to lemonade) and then make the 10-minute walk to the boyfriend's office, then to walk south to our new apartment in the old but surprisingly modern neighbourhood of Tanjong Pagar. It was probably the cold beverage that buffered me a bit but half way into the first half of my excursion and I was noticing a burning smell in the air, a dry and raw feeling in my throat and a small sting in my eyes.
At first I thought it was a fire somewhere nearby, but when I craned an ear to listen, I didn't hear any emergency sirens. In the heart of Singapore known by the impressive and towering title of the Downtown Core (Walk through it once and you'll know the name is deserved), I can usually hear the sounds reverberating off the skyscrapers, the steel, concrete and glass walls like a sound chamber and sometimes when I walk the smaller roads meant for delivery and service vehicles that bisect between the behemoths I swear I can hear voices echoing in the distance.
But it was as I looked up at those glass spires above me, I noticed they seemed a little harder to see. You know when your at the beach and you look at a ship on the very edge of the horizon, it looks a little whited out, details are harder to make out. The intricate and varied towers of the Downtown Core and around Raffles were now harder to make out, like someone had dropped white mosquito netting in my way to blot them out.
I met my boyfriend and was going to voice my confusion that everything seemed 'off' this evening, but we were late and in a rush, he had more work to do and we still had to pack for our move (Hey, its was two suitcases each but in two-months, we've spread out!) so I kept my tongue to myself, instead asked about his day, as we speed walked to our destination.
We arrived on the middle floors of our 24-story HDB and made a beeline to our destination, our new apartment. But here the 'white wall' was all the more evident.
Most if not all HDB's have open air walkways that line the interior walls of their courtyards, causing a spiral maze to grow over your head that seems full of life. Along these walks people hang their laundry to dry in the air, grow plants of staggering exotic variety, line their shoes along the walls, the occasional child's toy or scooter are neatly against the concrete railing and with some homes, a tiny yet lovingly maintained Buddhist or Hindu idol with offerings of oranges or burning incense occupy the corners. But along this almost 200-foot walk (Fine, 50-meters!), I could see the white wall hanging at around the halfway point down the walk, the door of the last apartment on the walk at the far end was almost gone in the mist.
But beyond the white wall was one startling fact of the walkway that I found instantly concerning.
It was empty of all souls... anyone who has been in an HBD in the evening knows its common for windows and doors to be opened, for the sounds of people talking, televisions playing and even children racing up and down the halls while squealing in glee fill the air. It almost always sounds like a cul-de-sac back in the States on a hot summer evening after school's let out, children running free, neighbours chatting from across their porches, the occasional splash of an outdoor pool. You didn't have to see people, you could hear them clear as if they were all right in front of you... ah now I'm nostalgic.
Tonight however the doors were shut, the windows were shuddered, the sounds of those televisions muffled and not a body was outside.
One glance to my left as we walked through this haze, out towards the Port of Singapore, second busiest harbour in the world, I could barely make out the towering cargo cranes that could match our HDB in height. Out on the water, it was like the ocean and the hundreds of ships that floated atop it disappeared into white, not a detail beyond their shadows or silhouettes could be made out.
We signed out apartment lease, hashed out a few details with our landlord, shook hands with a very amicable deal and by the time we departed it was dark outside and though the lights of the harbour and surrounding buildings seemed... off... brighter then they should be... the white wall had vanished and we were heading back up to the Singapore parent's home for the last time.
Fast forward to the next morning and we were rushing about, trying to cram what we could into our four suit cases, two small roller bangs and two backpacks (All we had brought with us from America plus a few purchases), while trying to organize what appliances and extra goodies the Singaporean parent's had graciously gifted to us for our new apartment (Heads up, loving the espresso machine the Singaporean mother added to our pile... my caffeine addiction has been thoroughly quelled this morning!). Again I stepped outside, juggle a plastic hanging rack, an overburdened suitcase and three cooking pans under my arm... and instantly noticed the basketball court that lay atop the parking garage below us was lost in a haze.
The white wall was back, the burning smell of wood hung in the air and I instantly had to stifle a sneeze building in my chest.
Everything packed into the car, we headed out, absently turning on the radio to listen to some music as we made the 20-minute ride down to Tanjong Pagar from Tampines. The music is generally identical to home, Singapore's tastes in music tend to be very American (Western) with a greater preference towards Pop, Rock and Hip Hop... Country thankfully hasn't made a real dent here. But just as we were starting to pull onto the highway, the music ended as the broadcast switched to the local weather.
"All Singaporeans are reminded that due to forest fires in nearby Indonesia, smoke haze is expected for most of the next week. Please remain attentive to the Singaporean Air Quality Service and be appraised of government bulletins. Thank you."
Today's rating is 74, moderate. Anything over 100 is unhealthy to be outside without a face mask, over 200 dangerously unhealthy and over 300... well unless the fire is burning right next to Singapore I think we are safe for the time being.
For someone who has never been near a forest fire in his life, such a 'weather phenomenon' is weird to say the least. I lived in California for too short a time and at too young an age to register the yearly forest fires that plague the dry western states of America, the closest fire I've been to outside our home fireplace or an outdoor wood bonfire was a controlled burn of an abandoned house when I was 14. It was started, supervised and then doused by the local fire department who kept the crowd of curious onlookers upwind for the entire thing. We never were hit with the smoke head-on, we could feel the heat and smell the burning, but never we're we in the smoke path.
Singapore is in the smoke path from an entire forest, not just one house. I wonder if I should invest in one of those sterile surgical masks I see some people walking around with.
Until next time, the AngMoh will be hiding inside from the smoke.
So if my sky writer is doing his job, you should know by now that we've signed the lease on our first Singaporean apartment. What you didn't know!? But I paid that random stranger I met on the bus in the middle of the night all that money for top notch work!
Fine, back on topic!
For the last month we've been living with the boyfriend's Singaporean parents and while they have been INCREDIBLE (Seriously, by the normal conservative standards of the previous generation that speaks volumes!) I however have lived on my own for nearly 7-years! Living with someone else (barring my boyfriend for nearly two-years now) is an adjustment I have been finding it difficult adjusting to having 'room mates'... and living with your significant other's parents makes it both difficult and a bit uncomfortable.
You have to be on your best behaviour all the time, no walking around in your boxers (Don't lie, you know you do it when no one's home).
You have to always dress nicely to present your competence as an adult... how I miss my ratty and worn lounging sweat pants!
You can't hog the bathroom or the food, I love to take hour long hot showers where I literally can just sleep standing up... nope not here! My poor back muscles are screaming in defiance at the injustice!
You can't curse or shout whenever your pissed or hurt. Don't believe me, stub your toe on the table and try stifling that F-word in your throat as you grip you foot and smile at the parents.
Your decision for meal time are by group consensus and not by what your stomach wants that night.
All forms of PDA even up to overt flirting is now weird because honestly, who wants to get all hot and bothered in front of you 'in-laws'.
Find you boyfriend's mother washing your underwear and instantly you feel both embarrassment and a healthy dose of shame, not to mention your an adult, you feel bad having someone else doing your laundry. (If your mother still does your laundry after college, sorry, you're a wierdo!)
For someone who lived by himself over half a decade, such an adjustment is not easy and the desire to return to some level of freedom I enjoyed before is desperately wanted. Don't get me wrong, its an immensely rewarding experience to get to know the Singaporean parents... but literally meeting them and living with them all in the same week is like watching an antelope on the Serengeti... every second a conversation goes quiet your afraid the time has come and that antelope is about to be hit... by Hummer!
Again back on topic, I know I run off on tangents. I think its because... Oh fine, your no fun!
So to begin hunting for a new place to stay in Singapore, the first desire is to pick somewhere that a commute to work is feasible. Right now going from Tampines down to Raffles means either catching the 552 Bus, riding it for an hour, praying traffic plays nice and then walking 10-minutes to work... or catching the 91 Bus to Tampines Mall, riding the MRT to Raffles and walking 15-minutes to work... both ways are crowded and both require me to be awake much earlier than God ever intended. So it was decided to focus in every neighbourhood that was less than a 20-minute commute from our office (train/bus included).
I am not a morning person... in fact before my coffee I am a DANGER to society... the closer I am to work the better.
Narrowing down our search area, we found apartment hunting in Singapore is very similar to NYC. Realtor's have taken to social media and the Internet with a zeal, many sites specific to Singapore apartment renting or property buying are plastered all over the Internet. We focused primarily on the website Property Guru, mostly because it required all apartment rental posting to come with pictures, both of the property but also the realtor hosting it.
Our area of focus was Tanjong Pagar, an area at the heart of the Downtown Core of Singapore that is an odd mix of old style HDBs and high-rise condos. It's only a short distance from the famed and always crowded Singapore Harbour, one of the busiest seaports in the world... seriously New York Harbour, you don't even rate in the top 10 seaports in the world when you can count nearly a hundred super-freighters representing two dozen countries, each as long as the Empire Star Building is tall, clustering on the open ocean, all vying to be the next to drop their goods at the base of tower cargo cranes that rival skyscrapers in height!
Saturday is the day to show, most people are out and about so you can get a feel for the real life of your desired neighbourhood. This will give you an idea of how crowded or loud your future home could be. If I'd have known my college apartment in Philadelphia was dead on the weekdays but overwhelmed by crowds, ear-splitting club music and drunks falling over at only 4:00 PM in the afternoon, I may have looked a little farther down the road!
Generally most owners will go through a realtor when they are trying to sell their places, the hassle is easier and most buildings require it to ensure nepotism doesn't play a factor in them keeping the rents competitive. In general pick them based on the properties they have, but when you call to schedule your appointment ask if they have similar properties in the area. Most actually will have multiple apartments in the same building complex they will be happy to show.
Now that sounds odd, if you've seen one HDB apartment, you've seen them all. But remember Singaporeans love to buy over rent, which means that as owner they have say in how all of these decade old units are not only decorated but also how they are renovated. The first apartment we saw had a wall between the kitchen and living room. But the next apartment did fit within the same space and shape, but that wall between the kitchen and living room had been torn out and a breakfast counter now acted as a barrier. Another two floors down had redone the kitchen counters with green tiles, the one next door went with stainless steel tops.
Secondary to this, almost all rental apartments in Singapore tend to come fully furnished. The owners know that most people who are renting tend to be working and juts starting out in the world, they have few belongings. Its common for all the basic furniture and major appliances to be installed on arrival. Think of it like how a hotel room is built, nothing fancy but still you will have a couch, television, washer, kitchen table, a bed and wardrobe for each room. If your buying, sorry they expect if you can afford property, you can afford your own couch! This means that the décor and furnishing of the place must also be considered when moving in. I loved a 18th floor apartment in a particular HDB near Duxom Park but the fact that owner refused to remove the ancient and truly gaudy Chinese-style wooden furniture and furnish with a television that wasn't made in the 1980s was the reason we turned it down.
The range of rents you can find will run the gamete and are largely predictable. The fancy condo built less than a year ago, with its own small backyard, a sky garden on the room, private courtyard and garage, even a private hall for functions, along with complimentary bomb shelter/pantry, was of course rated at a price that visibly made us choke. The cheap HDB flat built around the time my grandparents were newly weds and still hosting all the original décor, was straggly cheap... and stomach turning in its filth.
Be clear with the realtors, most are willing to negotiate the rent down if you are willing to offer incentive. Move in right away, but only if you drop S$200 from the rent. Like we'd pay the full rent, but wanted the couch, television and beds replaced with more modern versions. Haggling will be difficult and somewhat exasperating but we managed to chop a good chunk off our rent and get a say in how it was furnished because since the renovations were completed the day before, it lacked furniture when we viewed it.
Once the bid and the your haggled stipulations for moving in have been presented to the owner, they can decide whether or not they'll take your offer. This offer is going to include a check for your first month's rent, plus a security deposit that is usually one months rent and a realtor fee, which is usually another month's rent. So expect whatever price you agree on, the first time out of the gate you'll be paying three to four times that amount, so brace your bank accounts accordingly.
Once the offer is accepted, its time to sign the contract, where your stipulations for moving in are legally documented. Do no skimp on any details and make sure the owner is held accountable for all damages within the first day of moving in. We found while out future home was ideal, the handles on the kitchen windows were broken, a mirror was cracked and two tiles in the bathroom were wobbly. Yes, wobbly is the technical term! These damages must be fixed before you move in and any one's you missed need to be documented the first day in order to avoid a hefty chunk of your security deposit being sucked up when you move out.
There are also some stipulations that have to be made clear on the contract when you move in, in order to save yourself from 'breaking' your lease later on:
Expatriate renters can use the Overseas Clause to break a lease without penalty. If you are posted back to your home country or another, you are only required to give two-weeks notice and your lease will be shortened accordingly to end as soon as possible. Just provide you FIN or Passport number to secure this.
If ANY of the persons on the lease are Singaporean, the Overseas Clause not only doesn't apply, it voids an early lease break for the whole apartment.
Rent periods tend to be 12-months to 18-months, not by year.
Non-Singaporeans can not own property in an HDB. Only Singaporeans can buy an HDB unit. This is the reason the Overseas Clause applies to expatriates and not Singaporeans, we can break contracts early but can never own.
Subletting is illegal and strictly enforced. Even to family this is unacceptable unless their names are on the lease.
Most buildings come with WiFi and it is average in speed. Enough to browse the Internet but if you want to use some serious power, like online gaming or HD television, you'll have to invest in something more powerful.
Unlike in the States, water, gas and heat is not included in your rent. They will be billed to you same as electricity.
You are expecting to service all appliances and amenities in your apartment. No building repairman, unless the damage is to the building itself, then alert the owner for assistance. Remember your air conditioner WILL need to be serviced every three-months, if it doesn't the build up of bacteria, dust and oils can make you sick or worse, start a fire!
And with that all hammer down, we've signed our contract and are set to move in next week! Ang Moh finally has some property to call his own! I think I'll raise some rabbits... yes that seems appropriate... fine I'll just get a mint plant for the kitchen window!
Heads Up: This is a continuation on my blogging about applying for an S-Pass employment visa in Singapore. If you miss part one, scroll to the bottom of the page for links to the corresponding sequences!
And now the moment of truth. I have all my paper work filled out, every document notarized by the proper professional and I've even put it in a nice purple folder for presentation... hey, purple is super professional looking so stop snickering!
It's time to register my employment pass and have it made official by the government.
So in most cases, if your company has any legitimate Human Resource department, they can make the appointment at the Ministry of Manpower for you. Those that don't... it can require some hunting through the usual bureaucratic nightmare that is a government website. I personally believe that instead of going this route it just easier to call the Ministry and wade through the hour of operators to get a real live person to confirm your appointment. I however lost charge on my battery and was thrown back to step one before my appointment was confirm.
But HR came to the rescue and got in my appointment situated.
Once your confirmation is in the system, they send you a email with all your details, along with a registration bar-code. Print off this paper and bring it along with all your other documents.
With that all nailed down it was just holding out the days until it was time. Now remember this is a bureaucracy... it doesn't mean being punctual, it means being early. Finding the front entrance to just the campus wasted at least 20-minutes and thankfully I was there nearly an hour early, so it wasn't a mad dash to the door.
Inside its crowded, but keep your eyes peeled because Ministry officers are moving through the cluster of confused and waylay people, helping to get you to your appointment as fast a possible. They will take you to a nearby electronic kiosk. This is where that confirmation paper you printed off comes in. A quick scan and all your information is confirmed along with your physical arrival and in response, it prints off what lettered queue you are suppose to head to (A, B or C).
Inside the queue you have to wait in another line, though this is so short it will barely take longer than a few minutes. A screen on the wall will chime when a interview desk has opened and the corresponding number of said desk. Within minutes you'll be ushered into a glass lined cubicle that is so small you'll feel as if one wrong move and you'll be in the interviewer's lap!
Here is where you'll be handing over all your important documents that you've been collecting since the beginning of your journey:
Passport (Include multiple photo IDs and your social security card just to be safe).
In-Principle Approval Letter (the letter you were sent when your application was approved).
Disembarkation/Embarkation Card (basically the long-term visitor visa you were issued at Singapore customs when you arrived).
Completed Medical Examination form.
Make sure to note if your American or European, that the sequence your name is in will not match the common naming sequence on naming documents in Asia. To clarify, in Asia it is common to first list your last name, any numeral relation (junior, senior, III, IV), your first name next, finalized with any middle names you have (its common in this region of the world to have none at all or more than one, hence going last). In the case of Americans, who go First, Middle, Last, Numeral, this means you'll have to be issued a name amendment so they don't completely spell your name on the card in a disorganized manner. I had to correct the interviewer twice that she listed my name out of order... interviewers don't like to be corrected.
Next is the picture for your card and lets be clear, make sure you look presentable and wear something that you won't be embarrassed to be seen in. For the Indian man in the ratty, stained and torn t-shirt with Michael Jackson on the cover... congratulations, every official document your picture will appear on in this country will also show your poor taste in fashion.
I will admit I looked damn good in my picture, though at 5-foot 8-inches, I still had to bend my knees to fit into the camera's frame. You get two takes and after that its picking the lesser of two evils. I very much approve of the black and white, high contrast picture of me... whoever the photographer is, I want her doing all future photo shots for me!
With this completed, all those documents you brought (save the official ones like your passport and social security card) are taken for your registration and now are all gone... never to be seen again... thank God!
Now its time to wait. In general, you or your company will get a call within the next four to five business days, confirming that your card is ready. If you work for a major company, generally they will send the card directly to your office by secure messenger. If not, then you'll have to go all the way back to the Ministry office and pick it up yourself.
Until that day, I'll keep you posted but until then, the AngMoh is now a semi-registered American Expat in Singapore! For those that missed it, here is the complete S-Pass Application Process. Click below for:
I am terrified of the power outlets in our home! Yes, I admit it. Every time I plug in anything that requires a converter I am petrified of the coming explosion of sparks and smoke.
Little background, in Singapore the voltage carried in the outlets is a lot higher than back home. Instead of 120 volts, its around 200-240 volts. The result, plug in any surge protector or device that can't handle that and even with a voltage converter you'll only get a puff of smoke burst in your face. Check here for the different international standards.
It all started nearly a month ago, when my boyfriend believed that by plugging an American surge protector into a converter for Asia, we could plug all our American devices into one easy row of outlets, instead of dangerously overloading the power outlets in our bedroom. Boy were we off by miles. The result, a whine of electronic agony, then a pop and smoke rising from the eight power plugs which all now looked suddenly sad for some reason. Read about it in my first real post from Singapore: Sparks Fly.
Fast forward a month and I am setting up my Xbox 360, all excited to get my hands on the newest zombie game of the year, State of Decay. So blinded by fandom I plugged the converter in into the Asian surge protector, slapped in the plug for the Xbox AC adaptor and flipped the switch. Unlike Dr. Frankenstein who cackled with triumph when lightning struck, my words were entirely different when I realized the mistake I had made.
"Oh shit! Oh shit! No... crap! Oh shit no, no, no!"
But electricity moves at the speed of light and before I could slap my hand back down on the power switch the moment I realized my folly, the AC adaptor had already shrieked in agony, let out a sound like a balloon popping and smoke burst out in a tiny mushroom cloud from both ends of my adaptor. Thankfully it had done its job and protected my Xbox from any damage, but it had died valiantly in its effort... and I was royally annoyed at my stupidity.
I was left with a now unplayable game I had been waiting for months to get my greedy hands on... disappointment didn't begin to describe it... exasperated annoyance at my misfortune and stupidity was more like it.
Shopping for a replacement 'electronic gaming accessory' in Singapore is a annoying exercise in futility and after being spoiled by Best Buy, Amazon and Google Shopper it was even more obnoxious. For the first time in years I had to call stores to confirm if a product was present and most just wrote down my information promising to call back. Of the eleven stores called and left to call me back, none have done so... I expect to hear from them sometime between now and the energy death of the universe.
With the complete failure of this endeavour it was off to the mall to hit the ground running. The Singapore store Challenger is possibly the closest analogue to Best Buy or Circuit City that this country has. But unlike at home, they rarely sell replacement items for full sets, you either can buy the complete assembly of parts or they just kind of shrug at you. Two stores down and while I could see the exact AC adaptor I wanted, it could only be possessed with the purchase of an entire brand new Xbox 360.
I was ready to scream in rage, both at my own annoyance at myself and to the actual fact I had to make an effort to find what I needed. It was only after my third time trolling through another Challenger store, seriously they're as numerous as K-Mart or Wal-Mart are at home, that I achieved some success.
Sales people in Singapore are very aggressive, when compared to their American counterparts. Expect if your shopping in most stores, barring maybe clothing, to actually be stalked by a whole mob of sales people. They will stand very overtly behind you, remaining completely quiet, then the instance you show any interest in something they pounce on you. But ask for something they don't have in store, something they can't sell you and expect to blank shrugs and for them to suddenly scatter before you can ask a second round question.
Customer service leaves much to be desired in Singapore. It was only on attempt three that the kid behind the phone counter at least pointed me towards a store that could possibly provide me with the part I needed. From the way he clammed up as a much older employee walked by him I'd have to guess providing helpful information or direction on products a store does not carry or is held by a competitor is generally frowned upon.
But the mission finally had some concrete information I was dashing to a little out of the way store across from the massive Challenger store, a store called Playtecnix PTE LDT... long name, I know... It barely rated bigger than a supply closet, every ounce of space was covered in shelves stocked to the breaking point, boxes lined the floor with just enough space to allow one person to walk by single file, the distinct smell of some's very aromatic lunch filled the entire shop with stomach turning power.
At first I turned my attention to the younger man behind the counter. As an avid game shopper, I instantly turned to the gentleman expecting that he'd put down the hand held game he was playing to assist me. However instead it was a petite woman with a pair of thick rimmed glasses that stepped up to intercept me. I know that most game shops do employ women and anyone taking a dive into multi-player gaming will eventually run into a female comrade during even the most violent Halo or Call of Duty games. I guess because I was so focused on my mission, I was a bit taken a back when a woman who looked no older than my sister and dressed as if she had been lounging in an old arm chair just seconds before, glass of wine and reading a good hardback novel in hand.
I will admit right out, pastel sweaters are very off putting in a video game store!
I explained my problem, my stupid mistake and instantly like someone who had heard such tragic confessions and mistakes a thousand times before, she offered me her condolences with a knowing grin and then produced the part I so desperately needed.
Now for you gamers out there moving to Asia listen up because this is the wisdom she imparted to me:
While the actual power plug for a Xbox or PlayStation can remain the same, only requiring a voltage converter to be plugged in, the actual AC Adaptor (the big black box on your power cord) needs to state very clearly its voltage range. Anything that doesn't hit between 200-240 is doomed. Heads-up, the Xbox 360 Kinetic is safe. If it doesn't say it, assume based on where you bought it, the device will ONLY match the local voltage.
American laws on gaming content are some of the most lax in the world... I know surprising! Restrictions in Asian countries are very restrictive, however can be avoided by purchasing a game abroad or on an on-line site for download.
Some gaming stations are region locked, meaning it can't be played outside the country of its purchase (less common on American purchased models, more so on European and Asia ones). It is good to confirm on your warranty that your system will work fine because if you log onto the internet, it could assume the device is stolen and lock it down.
Warranty repairs are only covered in the country of your device's purchase. You'll have to hold out long enough to get it fixed on vacation, find a friend to deliver it for you or in some cases, sell it for almost nothing and have it stripped for parts.
Return time in Singapore is 14-days. Anything after that is un-returnable no matter what. Don't bother to argue, they won't budge.
Pirated game versions don't work on Xbox or PlayStation (unless you hacked your system by sacrificing your warranty). Don't listen to people trying to sell bootleg versions at the local market. First off, it the Xbox realizes you have a pirated copy, it can lock you from your system and damage the CD in the process. On the other-hand, game pirates are very good at artistically recreating the packaging and art on the front of the game CD. Only go to reputable places to buy if you're looking for used games, like malls, NEVER open markets or trading posts.
Never declare that you are carrying video games when travelling or when ordering from abroad. On most airport x-ray machines, the cases just look like DVD's and most security forces will ignore them. If you do, you could have the Singaporean Media Development Authority confiscate your things, censor them or force you to send them back. Same goes for videos. This is the same government ministry that also made porn illegal in Singapore... don't ask how I found that out! If it contains anything ranging from violent gore (Gears of War), blatant sexuality or homosexuality (Mass Effect and Dragon Age) or condones violence or criminal activity (Grand Theft Auto), expect that it is either banned or highly restricted for people under 18.
And with that I departed with my new Asia speciality AC Adaptor for Xbox. I instantly dashed home, turned on my game and began smashing the heads of zombies with concerning glee.
However it was still several hours later than I intended because of my terrible attention to details like voltage and safety warnings!
Heads Up: This is a continuation on my blogging about applying for an S-Pass employment visa in Singapore. If you miss part one, scroll to the bottom of the page for links to the corresponding sequences!
So even though I was at the doctors less than a month ago to get all my last minute immunizations (Read: Hurt a Lot) but apparently I am off again! A mandatory medical examination for any application for a Work Pass is required, no if, and's or naked butts in hospital gowns about it.
Yes, that's right, while I've been poked, prodded and forced to turn my head and cough while looking all so uncomfortable, it appears as if I need to go back to the doctors yet again because Singapore prefer's their own medical professionals confirm your health. I guess its only fair, while most doctors in the States are usually pretty qualified, it's probably the only way to remain fair to all the dozens of other countries... who's medical profession is sometimes a bit... off from the modern standard.
So in Singapore most Raffles Medical Centres allow for walk ins... and are also impossible to get onto the phone to confirm their business hours. Seven calls to seven clinics and I was ready to scream. Either they'd put you on hold for an hour and never come back, transfer you to the wrong line or accidentally hangup on you, forcing you back into the wait queue. It wasn't bad customer service, most of the nurses working the lines were genuinely aghast at the mishandling of my calls but I firmly believe it was the lack of phone training that lead to so many mistakes.
Finally I managed to nail down a time to try out the clinic in Asia One, an immense skyscraper which oddly seems to boarder a vast open field. I guess its meant for future construction but still, there is a random stretch of open land in the heart of Singapore's most urban region, that seems to extend for over two miles right to the ocean! It would be like all the land from the Empire State Building to the East River was just forgotten about... it's just weird to see in a city.
I known, shut up on this odd tangent and get back on topic.
So I arrive promptly at 9:00 AM, when the clinic opens and am the second walk-in through the door. I handed over my passport (Bring more than one form of photo ID to be safe!), my approved declaration of my work pass (this was provided by my company Human Resource department once the Ministry of Manpower approves my application to work in Singapore) and the standard medical exam check list. If you lose it, you can find it here.
It is a basic check list to be filled out by the examining doctor, so make sure it is blank when you hand it over to the front-desk nurse. She will hand you a piece of paper with a row bar-code sticker on it this is now your best friend and never let it out of your site until your done. Each sticker will link to an electronic report of your medical test results, it means the doctors doing your exam won't force you to carry around giant tomes of information for them to refer to. Its all going to be on this flimsy piece of paper.
Now it's time to play the waiting game. This waiting room, while very clean and high-tech, with a HD-plasma television play the latest news from CNN and only the most illustrious business magazines on its coffee tables surrounded by fine leather furniture, it still uses the wall mounted number counter that you see at the deli!
After the first woman goes it and returns after twenty-minutes, its my turn. I quickly find myself sitting across from a boy in a doctor's coat... Yes I said boy because instantly I thought the woman before me had forgotten her 12-year old son when she departed. Instead, with a surgical face mask pulled up to his eyes, he asked to see my ID to confirm my identification.
I knew I had given this to the front-desk nurse but one thing my parent's always taught me, NEVER argue or lie with the Police, Firemen, Military and especially Doctors. So I instantly produce my passport, however being that the picture is six-years out of date (Plus I looked stoned in my picture... I WASN'T! I had the flu!) he wasn't too convinced. This is where those extra pieces of ID come in handy, and I quickly produced my US drivers license, college ID and my social security card. That seemed enough to convince him and he quickly launched into the examination once he was satisfied.
The first exam is blood pressure, the chest exam and abdominal exam... which I didn't like because honestly its someone poking you with something cold and telling you what to do... its possibly the reason I also don't like personal trainers... why pay someone to tell you to do something... it seems self-defeating. I also won't give this boy/doctor any points on bed-side manner and my usually liberal usage of curse words were kept tightly under-check... mostly...
The exam of course ends with the standard blood exam. This exam is a deciding factor on whether your pass it approved, failing even one portion of the two criteria points means an automatic reject of your application. If you test positive for pulmonary Tuberculosis and/or HIV... I'm sorry but you can be subject to immediate repatriation.
I know its horrible and discriminatory but Singapore's health system is premier in the world... and few people argue against the local medical establishment when you realize that the country is an isolate island surrounded by medically poorer and larger countries... and a world travel hub... the kind of place where an minor epidemic can spread like wildfire with catastrophic results. Singaporeans have been actively trying to eradicate Dengue Fever and the Mosquitoes who carry it... a species that is incredibly prevalent in this region of the world. At least in temperate zones you have summer to purge the populations, here in the tropics its a year-round threat. Dengue, has a nearly two-week incubation period, while for adults it comes off as a sever cold/flu... complications are common small children who become infect.
Any form of infections disease is an immediate reason for rejection of any form of visa in Singapore and will instantly black list you. You'll have to immediately be repatriated (within reason of course) and you may be barred from ever returning as a tourist.
Back to the blood test... to which I believe I did fine with... except having to watch the needle plunge into my arm. I'm fine with the pain, the blood, the minor ache in your vein after the fact... but the image of that piece of metal piercing my skin always makes me jump and shriek like a little girl... alright not that bad but I go rigid like a board expecting the needle will come bursting out the other side of my arm at any second...
And for those that didn't slam my blog shut after that amazing act of imagery, I can say that was the worse part... physically.
While the medical examination is held in one office, the actual chest X-ray that is required is hosted in another. Now I knew why this office was so beautifully decorated, it was because they hadn't to host any of the more expensive pieces of medical hardware.
The actual x-ray machine was a good 15-minute walk away, this time in Raffles itself. Again this office was walk-in... and being that it was now 9:40 AM... it was packed.
Thankfully x-rays are not as common as you think... but you have to mention that's the reason you are there. Stating your there for a employment pass medical check-up can have them start the process all over again, wasting your valuable time... saying that you were sent from another office for a specific procedure and then presenting the paper with the sticker bar-codes on it. This will save you a ton of time... and not have you waiting in the wrong line for 30-minutes... like me... who then got shifted to a line that took... 2-minutes!
X-ray is super fast, taking less than two scans and completed in under a minute. If you not keen to stand half-naked in a strange room with a crowd of people outside... wear a light under-shirt and they generally will let you get away with it.
When your finished they will be taking your medical card given to you at the start (the one with all the bar-code stickers) and your off, nothing to really show for it. That's because in four to five business days they will call you back and hand you back your medical examination form, filled out by the doctor with all the notes if you passed or not.
As the AngMoh is still in Singapore, you can tell I passed. With this finished, the approved Employment Pass Application and my personal documents/IDs... its time to head onto the Ministry of Manpower to hand in my paperwork and get my pass!
So over the course of the last weekend I've been getting bombarded by a lot of questions in relation to immigration bill that passed through the United States Senate yesterday. The notable portion of the bill that got a lot of people pinging me for responses was the fact that while the bill had been passed, the clause allowing for foreign-born LGBT spouses of Americans could be sponsored for green cards.
As has been headlines or at least worthy of a paragraph or two, was the dropping of said clause from the bill in the name of getting it passed the conservative members of the Senate... namely the Republican members of the Senate.
Here's some questions I've gotten and answers I've given. If any details are misquoted or misinterpreted them, please correct me... my co-author, proof reader and fact checker seems to have wandered off as of late.
Can't you can still marry in any one of the states same-sex marriage is legal in and then sponsor for a green card through them?
Nope! See my previous post to hear me complain about that one but under the Defense of Marriage Act or DOMA, the federal government is not required to recognize same sex marriages performed in any states, territory or protectorate. As such, even if same sex marriage is legal in 12 states, Massachusetts, Connecticut, Iowa, Vermont, New Hampshire, New York, Maine, Maryland, Washington, Rhode Island, Delaware, Minnesota and DC, along with civil unions in 8 states, California, Colorado, Hawaii, Illinois, New Jersey, Nevada, Oregon, and Wisconsin, the federal government determines visas, green cards and immigration law, meaning if passes a law, like DOMA, banning federal recognization of same sex marriages or unions as legal marriages, then its banned for everyone. If DOMA is repealed, then those rights could be extended to bi-national same sex couples.
Doesn't this law just protect illegal immigrants from Mexico?
No per say, it actually has specific clauses to lift restrictions on immigrants seeking to enter the high-tech markets of the United States. Right now the current law, the H1-B, only allows a skilled foreign immigrant to enter the country on a 2-year visa for a total cap of 6-years. At the end they either can have a company sponsor them for a green card or return home. This bill will increase the number of qualified workers that can enter the country.
The bill only got through because they were going to require all the illegal immigrants to be finger printed.
Not entirely, never lovable and always conservative Republican Alabama Senator Jeff Sessions tried to rail road that through but instead it was reduced to foreigners leaving through the 30 busiest international airports, in order to track those that leave or have over-stayed their visas.
Won't this make it easier for your foreign boyfriend to find an American job?
Yes and no. It does lessen the restriction by which companies can hire foreign skilled workers, it however does not release the limitation on the length of the resulting work visa. It also doesn't address the prevalent problem of companies actively avoiding the act of transitioning a work visa to a green card when the visa limit is reached.
Under the bill can't he seek American citizenship? Wouldn't that be better?
This one is tricky but I guess the answer would be, would you be able to give up your citizenship that quickly? As Americans, we assume all foreigners entering the country also want to be American. It's natural given the whole 'melting pot' idea we learn about as kids. Is it really that easy to give up your home and nationality.
First things first, while I am very bitter the LGBT-clause was dropped and a sour taste is left in my mouth when I see pictures of the bipartisan Senators congratulating themselves on a job well done, the tiny voice of reason that is my conscience has pointed out that the bill could have helped some or none at all.
Republic lawmakers on the committee openly declared that any LGBT immigration protections would mean they'd kill the bill in committee and vowed if it passed, it surely would die on the Senate floor when time came to vote. This was the line drawn in the sand and the Democrats either had to accept it and move forward, or just give up everything and literally have months of legal research, networking, compromises and talks fall through in a matter of one week. Anyone who has tried to work their way through American immigration law will know, it is the most complex and insular system anyone will ever invent, next to the hellish monstrosity that is the American tax law. Few will have to wonder why many skilled and educated workers have no problem just staying to get an education or a nice job, but always end up retiring back to their home countries... its just too much trouble to deal with.
Notwithstanding this, while the number of bi-national same-sex couples in the United States number into the tens of thousands, the number of illegal immigrants in the country ranges into the millions.
As angry as it makes me feel, that logical conscience of mine whispers into my ear that it was the needs of the many that outweighed the needs of the few. Honestly, you have to admit that most gay couples in the United States tend to be more financially stable, more likely to be educated and most entered this country under legal visas that have just expired. Now I am not saying their are illegal alien LGBT people, I guarantee there are, but in general I would have to say that the majority of those being protected under this bill were those that were going to be the victims a kind of discrimination without any form of protection, a term that technically could be called legal slavery or economic slavery.
No its not some fancy word play, its a situation where an individually is barely paid enough to survive economically while being prevented from ever advancing under threat of persecution, legal reprisal or even punishment. Illegal aliens enter the country, yes illegally, but the vast majority usually are coming to the United States for a better life, then promptly find they can make barely enough to survive, with the constant threat if they try to fight for a better life and pay they will be arrest and deported, a threat usually thrown out by their criminally cheap employers in the face of a defiant immigrant.
Its an act of discrimination that was made illegal in America when slavery was declared illegal. Situations like this tend to however punish the victim and not the victimizer. Yes, those employers could be in a lot of trouble and certainly could face jail time, but many of those illegal aliens will face deportation, a fate that some consider worse than jail time.
The bill will help any illegal immigrants to apply for temporary legal status that allows them to live and work in the country within six months, then apply to get their green card in 10 years and American citizenship three years later.
This bill will also work to strength borders along Mexico, increase the number of H1-B visas and make it easier for individuals to attain citizenship.
So this video 'What Kind of Asian are You?" by David Neptune and Ken Tanaka has been making the rounds on Youtube recently and by far I find it is the best and most humorous portrayal of what I like to call 'Ignorant Racism'. By definition, its not intended to be racist, just in trying to appear non-racism, you actually achieve what you intended to avoid. In the video the racist, if you want to call him that, is attempting to come off as worldly, liberal and open to foreign cultures while failing to flirt with the woman, in fact his attempt comes off making him look completely ignorant and a total ass.
But this topic, while funny for some, is one that has been extensively researched by others. While its not common in many countries, it is one that has been creeping up in the increasingly politically correct and culturally liberal people of America, where our 'great melting pot' welcomes all cultures... as long as they don't exist outside our preconceived notions of what different ethnic groups should act or look like.
Author Evelyn Alsultany detailed similar interactions and classification attempts that she herself endures throughout daily life due to her ancestry as being both Arab and Cuban, more importantly in her article 'Los Intersticios: Recasting Moving Selves'. Here she showcased several deeply personal encounters of how her race and cultural identity have been so tightly defined, that to exist outside of them is a near impossibility for the everyday person to comprehend.
I seriously recommend all Americans take a read of the article, it can be a real kick in the pants to those that originally thought of themselves as liberal and open... its the reason why I actively try to avoid asking the question... "Where are you from?"
Alsultany's pain, frustration and annoyance is a feeling I relate with all too commonly and worry about constantly. A worry that tends to creep up not in America where this trend predominately tends to occur more along racial lines than cultural and more out of unintended ignorance or honest confusion than any true malice or ill-intent. Instead it is in my second country, Ireland, where I feel at odds at what defines me as a true Irish citizen and as an unwanted outsider.
In Ireland, most especially in my family’s ancestral hometown of Bandon in the south, people can effortlessly identify me as Catholic due in part because of my appearance. To many it is confusing, how you can be identify by your religion based on your appearance? In this case I quickly point out what do you think a Muslim or a Buddhist looks like, and instantly they know what appearance to supply; skin colour, accent and all.
Yet in what many outsider’s view as a a racially homogeneous country such as Ireland, hundreds of years of cultural and ethnic mannerisms have been defined on only the slightest differences. To be Catholic is as simple as the shade of your hair or the colour of your eyes. I am moderately tall, thin verging on lanky, ice gray eyes, near cream skin that never seems to tan and blond hair. Most people would call these features Aryan in appearance but in Ireland this is the look of the southerner.
When I enter a restaurant they see my face and smile, chatting with me and asking a whole array of questions out of shear curiosity. Having an American accent but speaking in the native slang they quickly inquire how I have developed such combination. I speak like a native, have no problem understanding the accents and never once ask them to slow down when they talk. In fact quiet often I have to remind them that I am not just some American tourist and they don’t have to dumb down their conversations for my benefit. This ease I attribute to my mother who until the age of four was a native and a vast majority of my extended family still remains bound to the lifestyle of farming or shop keeping in the central regions of the island country.
Yet when they inquire for my name I can always see the flash on confusion and even hostility when I half-heartedly mutter my surname... I won't repeat it here, the anonymity rules apply...
"You're not Irish," one woman actually scolded me as if I was some stupid child. "You're a northerner."
I've never been to the north, as the south calls Northern Ireland. I don't know anyone in my family that has. In fact my grandmother regards the idea in the same realm as jumping off a cliff, to do so either means your insane, stupid, lost a bet or all the above.
Among the Irish, although it has officially and publicly dwindled in recent years, a general animosity between the southern Catholics of the Irish Republic and the Protestants of North Ireland, which is controlled by the United Kingdom. Many see them as traitors, foreign invaders, turncoats and secretly undermining Irish sovereignty. To the world at large this is preposterous but to the natives, it is a grave insult.
Many people don't know the history behind the animosity between the Irish Catholics and the Irish Protestants, to the direct extent the English Protestants they descend from. Most play it off as old wounds and hate that have been forgotten to time. Some even think its funny, a good laugh and another example of how stubborn and repressed the Irish can be. Few realize that until no more than a generation ago that laughable conflict came very close to escalating to same level as the Palestine-Israel Crisis, with murders, violence, bombings and brutal acts of hate that all of Ireland now regards with deep seated shame. In the Brighton Bombing of 1984, Irish militants of the IRA set off a bomb, killing 5, injured over 30 and nearly killed the British Prime Minister, one Margaret Thatcher. It was only the fact that the old Victorian architecture of the Brighton Hotel did not implode from the devastating structural damage, that the number of dead wasn't near total and killing the always defiant Mrs. Thathcher.
We call these thirty years of violence The Troubles and though its name sounds melodramatic, it lead to over 3,529 deaths, half of which were people caught in the crossfire as the Protestant North Irish battled it out with the militant Catholic North Irish.
Few would say it today but I know one or two elderly members of the community who still refer to the IRA as freedom fighters, even if our hometown of Bandon is as far south as you can go in Ireland, making it the furtherest from Northern Ireland and the conflict zone The Troubles created. There people had the luxury of loathing the North Irish Protestants without having to see the damage done by both sides, to understand that terrorism leaves no victim free of scars.
The Troubles are however and thankfully regarded with a shame by most of my hometown, but that only helps to temper the hate, a cautionary tale parents tell their children and then roll their eyes in exasperation as their elders begin to spout their almost visceral hate of the North. I'm sad to say that few bother to correct their elders, age always denotes seniority and wisdom in Irish culture, second only to the church in the power and faith it is given.
Maturity of body does not always guarantee maturity of mind and old wounds always fester when they are not addressed.
When I try to explain this relationship and inherited hate, I get a few odd glances from my friends who's countries were also former British colonies when I explain it was because of the British colonization of Ireland that lead to all this animosity and fighting. They don't seem to be able to comprehend the idea that we share a common history, that through my ancestors, the few stories that have survived and several large tomes of Irish history, I can understand how it feels to be a former colony violently trying to free itself from a foreign imperial power and feeling a sense of national failure when it legally can not. They see a white man, claiming to understand the plight of their ancestors who lived among the British colonies.
A few have actually reacted with anger or scoffing laughs that I'd even think I could ever relate to them on that topic.
Few realize that Ireland was the English's first colony, before the Americas, before Africa, before the concept of a round world was really drilled into the public mind and the colonies in Asia began to spring up.
Ireland was the first test bed for an overseas British territory... we were 'colonized' first... and that carries not an ounce of pride it in... but usually is spoken with anger.
The invading Protestants of the 16th century brutalized and mistreated the ancient Irish, who were almost entirely Catholic with a fair sprinkling of Pagans. These new arrivals disenfranchised the natives and turning their ancestral lands over to British colonists, called the Protestant Ascendancy, predominately from England but a few Scots among them. New laws were quickly enacted, baring land ownership to all Catholics and even Presbyterians.
These British colonists arrived in droves, the majority in the north, this would led to the eventual modern partition of Ireland into the Republic and North Ireland. They were more than happy to administer their new lands and the people that came with them, gleefully happy to civilize the natives, which meant working them on their farms as just a step above slaves, what you called in the contemporary world, serfs. The first act was to repress the Catholic faith, which in England at the time went against the teachings of Protestism and the faith of their most hated enemy, the Spanish. Spain attempted numerous times to conquer England in the name of their faith, leading to an inherent fear of Catholicism's spread in their country, even if it largely was misplaced. Spain was only trying to garner points with the Pope and Church, they were just plain greedy and trying to hide it with religious rhetoric... rhetoric that spawned angry prejudices in the English who saw the Irish as part of the Catholic fanaticism threatening their great country.
Sounds a bit familiar today, how a few bad apple Islamists can paint the entire faith as a danger to national security and sovereignty. Its one of the reasons I am very leery whenever organized religion springs up in politics, it is too often used to single out another minority and limit them in some form.
Anyone who know's an Irish man or woman knows one thing, we can be a stubborn people, we prefer to be left alone, almost verging on isolationist and we can take a lot of punishment before cracking... but never mess with an Irish person's faith unless you want that bloody nose...
Centuries of fighting, persecution and brutally crushed rebellions followed, coupled with the economic exploitation of Ireland's few natural resources. The English colonization radically changed the country. Most wouldn't realize it but Ireland use to be heavily wooded. The country is now the most deforested in the world, its forests used immensely by the arriving colonists for shipbuilding. The lose of those vast forests radically changed hundreds of years of Irish culture, who predominately were herders or isolated villagers.
Irish history is not something that can be looked at through rose coloured glasses, its something you have to read through with a strong stomach. The Great Famine of the 1840s, rebellions of 1803, 1848 and 1867, claims of neutrality during both World Wars, the Irish Civil War, the independence votes and trade wars of the 1930s only helped to cement some of these long standing beliefs, that a Protestant would sooner sell you out for a hot meal or stab you in the back if it got them ahead in life. While these tensions have dwindled in the more moderate and progressive regions of the country, such as the ever popular Irish city of Dublin, in my family's southern home of Bandon, those tensions are still unfortunately kept alive and prevalent.
And caught between that history of violence and hate, of clearly defined but unseen lines is someone like me. My surname is a predominately Protestant name, namely a Welsh and Northern Irish name, to have it labels you as a northern and as such, very much NOT Irish.
It gets even worse when I attempt to explain my patronage, my mother is Irish Catholic, my father is an America who was raised Protestant.
Like many bi-racial people face when having to declare their race or ethnicity on the US Census, one drop of Protestant blood automatically dilutes a long Irish Catholic family line that can be tracked back over 230-years. Great-Great-Granddad could possibly be spinning in his grave for knowing that his descendant, my mother... married a Protestant!
But it means nothing to many, they see me as just a North Irish, some of have even treated my attempts to convince them otherwise as a act of 'slumming' with the southerners.
Even if I was raised Catholic, went to a Catholic grade school, attended more masses then I care to count and read the Bible so many times I can see the words behind my eyelids, the mere mention of my surname is enough to sever me from the very heritage that makes me who I am.
It shames me to say that when given the choice to renew my citizenship papers and passport I instead took my mother's maiden nameinstead, a very common Catholic name that would cause far less confusion and annoyance for me in the long run. But to no end I feel like I have just put on a façade to hide myself from the constant annoyance of explaining myself, even more so from the anger of arguing my very right to call myself Irish in my own country.
Disclaimer: Because I mention my job in this post I am enforcing the anonymity rule with comments. Do not mention my name, position, company or office location. Any comments that do will be deleted. Same applies to me, I will NEVER refer to my position, company, its location beyond country, refer to colleagues or anything they say. I will also never post pictures, taken of either colleagues or on the office premise. In general I will be as vague or broad as possible with details! Thank you.
So today I am walking out of my new office (I love saying that!) and into the lobby of sorts we share with the other branch offices of our lovable, multi-national corporation to notice two construction workers drilling green leaves into the wall. Yes, you read correctly, they were drilling holes in a newly added facade wall in the lobby and plugging a ranging selection of grasses and ferns into each hole.
According to the rumors circulating through the oddly always crowded and bustling lobby, it is our corporation's desire to go green and add some life to our always open air office.
Considering my last two offices were so sterile they could have doubles as surgical theaters, this was a sudden change of sorts.
I have to say without a doubt... I love urban gardening and quickly noticed I was spending too long staring at the construction workers as they went about their duties... earning a few perplexed stares back before I head back to my desk after my bit too long bathroom break.
This is one rising trend that is certainly not a fad or theme running through Singapore at the height of the laughably obvious global warming debate (seriously, if you don't think Human activity is not effecting our world, play a game called count the extinct animals for just the last decade... it stop's being a game real quick). Singapore is one the country is actively making an effort to incorporate the ideals and designs of urban gardening into itself.
Every day I head out in the plaza that lays before our office, I get a glance up at the oddest skyscraper you'd ever see. It has to be at least 50-stories but its missing chunks, like someone cut entire floors and cubes out of the structure. From down on the street you can't miss these sudden voids of space, where you can clearly see the sky beyond and long concrete stilts holding up an amazingly immense portion of the structure above it.
You can also see the tops of trees growing up and out of those voids.
Yep, from down on the ground I can clearly see the green of leaves swaying in the wind and from some of the better angles I can definitively see those are tree branches, not bushes. There is literally a forest of green several hundred feet in the air.
And it doesn't stop there, the floors that do have continuous domain over their section of the structure actually have balconies and even pods hanging off of them, each with a fully grown tree or garden to support it.
On the ground it is about the same, any space that is open seems to be bursting with plant-life. Buildings are covered in creeping vines, tall palms cluster every patch of ground and special care is used to maintain them, to make it appear during your ride down the highway that you've suddenly driven into the rainforest.
When polled, almost 80% of Singaporeans voted for more urban gardens, more parks, less restrictions on community gardens and more buildings that actively incorporated a common area dominated by nature.
In fact, the idea is so popular the new EDITT Tower being built in the heart of the city will be the first of its kind, a paragon of “Ecological Design In The Tropics”. Read more here.
I will also admit I've noticed the animal life is missing and tragically I know that even these tiny patches of green are not enough to sustain Singapore's larger fauna. Birds are prevalent, a particular black bird with yellow cheeks seems to fill the niche of Pigeons or Red-Breasted Robins out here... the little buggers also squawk, not sing, so they're all the more noticeable.
But still, anyone who has lived in New York City will note the only real place where you can be considered in a forest is in Central Park, out in Brooklyn's Prospect Park or lost in the horrifying suburban twilight zone that is Staten Island. But these are all finely kept, with lawns that never grow thick and always look like they have been trampled flat into artificial astro-turf. Even the lakes and waterfalls in Central Park are fake, maintained by complex pipes and pumps that keep the waters nearly clear and always flowing.
Yet take one hour to walk around Singapore and you'll notice the residences themselves will install gardens anywhere they can, they will literally cast aside the well manicured lawns in some areas to establish gardens entirely planted in clay pots sitting on the aforementioned lawns, expanding these all the way up to the open air walk-ways in the HBD apartments you'll find the corridors lined with fruit plants and ferns. Plastic trash-cans are left out to collect rain water, which falls amply, and none are ever fenced in or vandalized. Most carry a greater variety of fruits and vegetables than any normal supermarket could conceivably hold either.
There are actually dangers to this type of gardening, as it adds some clutter to the hallway, making movements a restrictive when you stumble in from work or God forbid fire-fighters must rush in to put out a blaze. It can be fatal too, as reports of heavy clay pots absently placed on window ledges, balconies or too close to stairs have fallen, in one case a 12-year old girl was tragically killed instantly while walking home when a clay pot slipped from the window it sat in and struck her in the head.
But this is act of gardening in an urban landscape is a necessity I believe, Singapore's population continues to swell daily but the amount of land is less than New York City and more or less consumed by concrete. Atop this is the fact that Singapore is a single country by itself, New York has the whole of the United States to turn to for economy, work force, population overflow, disaster support and military/police protection. While economically successful, commercial agriculture is near impossible on this island, which hit almost completely urban only a decade or so ago, now speeding on to become a mega-metropolis.
You can really understand why Singaporeans make an effort to grow their own food, to return as much nature as they can when they have to build housing units, to keep their plants maintained with care and to avoid harm when possible, why they try to be as conservative as possible when they use water (Seriously if you shower longer than 15-minutes they start knocking to see that you are okay!). They are a nation that has to import so much from the outside world, including a far chunk of their workforce, while actively trying to be as independent as possible from the same world.
It certainly is a concentrated effort to maintain the semblance of nature in this otherwise city island, one that I wish every single American city would take seriously and begin to encourage their citizens to undertake. Support solar and wind energy, support community or personal gardens, support the usual of local plants in landscaping and to avoid plants that only grow to be beautiful for one season before they wilt in winter.
Be like Singapore, where a forest can be grown on a skyscraper, where a lobby wall can become a pasture, where even the hallway of an apartment can be a garden.
