My knowledge of Singapore before I arrived here was largely restricted to two points. One, the city is unbelievably antiseptic, as I noticed first hand during a brief trip here last year and two, this is a place that consumes an extremely high amount of Pringles, as evident from the share reports (52% volume
share!!).
The most talked about facet of life in Singapore – the very high degree of regimentation – was also the first aspect to strike me. Starting from the 500$ fines for smoking in the MRT (widely advertised all over the underground) to thefamous anti-littering laws (litterbugs are made to spend a day cleaning
public places ? an activity often widely covered by the local press) to the death penalty for drug trafficking (a law which keeps Singapore a drug free island in-spite of being located at the center of the golden triangle), Singapore is alargely unforgiving country. While Singapore is not the first country to
have strict rules and regulations, it probably has no parallel in its ability and determination to implement these rules.
Every resident has a unique ‘IN’ number (not unlike the social security # in the US) that is required to be quoted for virtually every activity from entering a call-in contest on a TV show to buying an internet connection enabling the authorities to keep track of every transaction of its citizens. Jumping a signal at any time of the day or night will almost always result in a fine – billed by post and payable by credit card often accompanied by a photograph of the act (photographed by a hidden camera at the signal) to help jog your memory.
In Singapore, every man is a soldier. This is not mere rhetoric, not even figurative talk. Being predominantly Chinese and virtually surrounded by (Islamic) Malaysia and Indonesia, Singapore went about building one of the best-prepared defense forces in the world with characteristic determination.
A key building block to achieving this has been a law making it compulsory for all male Singapore Citizens to spend a couple of years in the defense services on turning 21 followed by a month every year thereafter. The National Service (as the program is called), originally designed by the Israeli army has a reputation for making men out of boys, not to mention keeping them fit for the rest of their adulthood.
Like in much of South-East Asia, eating and shopping are the two national pass times here. Almost all leisure revolves around the malls and an evening out would typically involve eating, shopping, catching a movie and then maybe some more eating. Fast food joints and food courts pepper the island so
thoroughly that one is never more than walking distance away from a food court or a McDonalds outlet and yet all of them seem to do brisk business being full all through the day. The compulsory National Service probably has a large part to play in keeping the men trim and fit in spite of the very obviously
rampant gastronomic indulgences. The svelte figures of the average women, however, is an
unanswered mystery to most outsiders with hypothesis ranging from Chinese tea to genetic blessings.
Coming to the second national pastime, Singapore never allows me to forget that everyone is always selling something to someone. While this is evident almost everywhere, never is this more stark than in the malls. A completely ‘deal driven’ place, the key sales activity for many merchants is probably
confined to repainting promotion banners for the coming weekend. I purchased a cell phone for 85$, to see the price fall to 40$ the next weekend and to nothing (the model was given away free with a more expensive phone) the week after. Ditto with Internet connections, shoes, burgers, wine, calling cards, credit cards and computer parts. The Strait Times, the most widely circulated newspaper, publishes a veritable tome (50+ pages) every day, with a special effort (100+pages) reserved for Saturdays. A predominant proportion of this everyday is taken up by full-page advertisements of the latest deals on…anything.
While much of this is probably regular for any developed market, what makes Singapore stand out in its commercial vibrancy is the fact that all this is relatively new here. From being a shantytown at independence in 1965 to now having the fourth highest GDP in the world, Singapore is probably the only country in the world to have completed the journey from third world to first and this is reflected now here else if not in their enthusiasm to consume. People revel in their newfound prosperity, indulging themselves with about as much restraint as teenage boys at their first drinking binge.
There is also a certain charm to the place born of its ethnic diversity (over 80% Chinese, 9% Malay, 7% Tamil and pockets of expatriates from virtually every other country). While other big cities may boast of being a melting pot, Singapore is more akin to a salad bowl with its many different communities
maintaining their differences without melting into one amorphous whole. So, it is a common sight to see vibhuti smeared Tamils rubbing shoulders with burkha clad Malay women and sloppily dressed Europeans in the MRT and elsewhere;’ little India’ is just a few kilometers away from China town and
Sirangoon Road has more Hindu Temples than any average street in Madras. In fact here, it is the outside world that is strange and not Singapore at all, as evidenced by the cabbie who demanded to know why India was fighting with Bangladesh in-spite of being ‘the same people’ and suggested that the Americans were behind it when I confessed my inability to answer his question. The same Chinese cabbie went on to cheerfully recommend ‘the best place for Kerala cuisine in Singapore’, speaking in broken, but enthusiastic Hindi.
A fortnight ago, I was traveling back from a short trip to Jakarta and as the flight prepared to land in Singapore, a fact about Singaporean history I had read a while ago came to mind. Looking out of the window into the inky blackness, I was startled suddenly when the brilliantly lit island appeared out of nowhere. As the plane drew closer, preparing to land, it was easier to understand why the original Tamil immigrants had called the island ‘Swarnadweep’.
Writer is Manager with Procter & Gamble (Australasia) Consumer & Market Knowledge.
