A trek through the wilderness

A chilly gust of wind caressed my cheeks, as if to bid farewell to an extended winter. The rays of sunlight that streamed through the still bare branches above my head provided a little comfort. I wrapped my jacket tighter around me and hurried after Ang Moh and his golden retriever Bailey. As we walked in the backwoods of Cork Creek Park I heard a rustling in the distance and spied five white-tailed deer prancing through the long grass about 10 m away.

My mind wandered to Singapore, and I imagined that I was trekking along the unpaved paths at Bukit Timah Hill, and through the secondary rainforests at Mandai. As I imagined the mosquitoes buzzing in my ears trying to break through my defenses, and the rivers of sweat pouring down my face, I remembered why I never took leisurely strolls like this in the Singapore jungles.

Of the top things that I would miss the most about the U.S., the great outdoors would rank fourth (after burgers, Mexican food and Netflix). The open expanses that stretch as far as the eye can see, fields not earmarked for new condo developments, and animals that roam free – like the five deer I saw in the woods. Okay, maybe Cork Creek Park is not the wilderness, and as I’m constantly reminded by Ang Moh and his family, Yardley, Pennsylvania is not the country… It’s apparently a suburb of Philadelphia. But to a city-boy like me, being in proximity to farms, cows and horses is as country as the Magnificent Seven, West Virginia and the Blue Ridge mountains.

In an attempt to see as much of the U.S. of A. as I can in the next 3 weeks, yesterday, Ang Moh, HTC (a Singaporean friend living in New York City who had come to the suburbs for a visit) and I explored Peddler’s Village and New Hope – a collection of quaint artisanal shops. Peddler’s Village seemed a little more planned-out and reminded me a little of Singapore and the deliberate urban planning that goes into developing cultural enclaves like Chinatown, and Little India. New Hope, seemed like a more organic settlement (the first settlers arrived in the 18^th century), and vaguely reminded me of Haji Lane and Arab Street with its vintage clothing and artisanal shops. Most of the shops were closed – it was a Tuesday afternoon and still chilly out, but I could imagine the town coming to life in the summer with families picnicking on the banks of the Delaware River and groups of teenagers piling into the ice cream parlors.

As I make my rounds to bid a fond farewell to the country that I’ve called home for 4 years, I look forward to re-discovering the new and sexy Singapore 2.0 as described in this WSJ article. I’ve always been a glass-half-full type of guy and am excited to return to the motherland and be part of its continued transformation. We don’t have the suburbs in Singapore but we have our heartlands. And I truly believe that as a society, Singapore is on the cusp of a cultural awakening, and at a critical existential moment in our journey as a nation. Where blind trust was once placed in the hands of the ruling government party, there is a palpable shift in the winds as more courageous Singaporeans take on the unfamiliar burden of ownership and responsibility for the future of our country.