a story of two singapores
when foreigners ask me how i like singapore, i’ve started to say that i’ve just learnt to love the place i live in — a response they often don’t expect, given they most likely understand the city-state from pop culture depictions to be a tropical utopia with clean streets, affordable public housing and reliable public transportation, partially tainted but also a result of its suffocating rules (such as the sale of chewing gum) and a paternalistic, technocratic government.
but learning to love singapore looks like this to me: hushed tones and knowing smiles among fellow trespassers of state land who have all entered into a tacit pact of not ratting each other out as we enjoy the last wild landscapes in singapore overlooking the sand pile that it will inevitably be used to fill up the quarry (most likely to build new public housing).
it’s a mirror image to the singapore that is extremely rules-based with a strong policing culture — where fishing spots are so clearly demarcated and surveilled that taking even a step beyond the line will get a volunteer patrol staff breathing down your neck in minutes.
it’s a singapore that feels more human; where people are free to be themselves (including their worst, of course — but also their best).
today, at changi quarry, my friend and i met a dirt biker and a couple with a golden retriever, both telling us the same thing — this place is too good to be true, and so it has no place in singapore; it must eventually disappear. the biker told us he’s heard that the quarry — where he’s played in since he was a kid in the 2010s — will soon be closed, alongside air base nearby. the couple told us they love bringing their dog here to play, because the waters in sentosa often cause him an upset stomach. one of them tells us of how she used be able to hike across the entire quarry when the overgrowth did not render some paths unwalkable. she also tells us how they come later in the morning as the site is overrun with mountain bikers earlier in the day. it was a refreshing insight into the ways we shift our patterns of living to suit those of others to share these spaces we cherish. as we speak, an old man nearby plants his miniature remote-controlled yacht into the waters. it whizzes past the golden retriever, which is busy retrieving branches of varied sizes. he makes all of us laugh with his less than perfect eyesight and when he gives up on certain sticks he deems beyond his limits to retrieve. “sit,” one of them instructs him right before tossing the stick. he does as instructed, but soon after surreptitiously raises his rear out of the waters to give himself a headstart. we all see what he does and laugh.
enjoy it while it lasts, is the anthem of anyone who tried to cultivate a love for the spaces they’ve grown to inhabit in singapore.
the piles of sand the quarry, itself an unnatural, man-made landscape, we overlook taunt us. is it so bad that it’ll be redeveloped? the waters we enjoyed this morning wouldn’t have been there if not for its hollowing out.
but i love it because it was left alone to grow and be nurtured to become the beautiful space it is now, footpaths, bike trails and all.
