Esquire Singapore: Confronting Non-Confrontation in Singapore

Mon, 4 Feb 2013
2 min read
Add Comment

Confronting Non-Confrontation in Singapore

My first column in Esquire Singapore!

Confronting Non-Confrontation in Singapore

Singaporeans bitch too much. Or so the saying I’m loosely paraphrasing goes.

Case in point: how often do you see updates like this from your Singaporean friends on your social media networks?

“Get your daughter’s head out of my vagina, bitch.”
(Context: It was a crowded bus; the mother was seated and holding her baby girl in her arms. Unbeknownst to the mother, her baby’s head was pressing against someone else’s crotch.)

“Just boarded an empty train when a lady pushed me from behind and let out a loud ‘TSK’. So impatient for what? Bitch, right!”

Indeed. And that’s one of the reasons why I term such posts “bitch-rants”.

But before the feminists get on my case, let me further clarify that:

  1. The epithet “bitch” is usually – but not always – bandied about in a bitch-rant, because the rants are about bitchy people, regardless of gender; and
  2. The people ranting do so in order to bitch i.e. to get something off their chests.

Bitch-rants are so common nowadays that when I wake up and I don’t see any bitch-rants in my social networks, I actually start worrying and searching for one…

I can’t post the full text because of copyright reasons so please get a copy of the February issue of Esquire Singapore from newsstands today!

Three Ps to solve problem of weekend caregivers

Sat, 29 Dec 2012
2 min read
Add Comment

Dear Madam/Sir,

I refer to the letter “Rest day exception for caregiver domestic workers?” (Dec 20).

All employees – domestic workers or otherwise – deserve a weekly day off (or more) to recharge and recuperate.

However, this creates a conundrum: when caregiving domestic workers are given a day off, no one else will tend to their care-receiving charges, such as wheelchair users or frail seniors.

Instead of doggedly demanding that caregiving domestic workers carry on working on their off days, let’s tackle this problem creatively.

I propose a solution with these three Ps:

  1. Part-time employment.
    A job market is created for part-time skilled caregivers who are willing and able to tend to care-receivers on weekends – so long as the remuneration is commensurate with market wages.

    So as not to penalise families with the increased financial burden, the Ministry of Finance and the Ministry of Social and Family Development can look into increasing the size and the scope of the monthly Foreign Domestic Worker Grant to cover this additional cost.

    Alternatively, affected families can be allowed to claim a Caregivers’ Relief.

    2.  

  2. Peer support.
    If there is a shortage of skilled care-givers, the Council for the Third Age can facilitate the provision of caregiver training to retirees.

    This allows actively aging seniors to be involved in taking care of their lesser-abled peers.

    3.  

  3. Pop-up weekend daycare centres for care-receivers.
    Temporary centralised facilities are set up in convenient locales around Singapore on weekends.

    Economies of scale will allow, say, three part-time caregivers to tend to about eight care-receivers. This also allows families to pay a lower caregiving fee since more families share the cost of paying for caregivers’ wages.

    The facilities can be located in void decks, for example, and be removed at the end of the day so that the spaces can be utilised for other purposes on weekdays.

Thank you.

Yours sincerely,
Laremy LEE (Mr)

(Published as “Three-part solution for weekend caregiver issue” on 29 Dec 2012 in TODAY.)

Feel-good story of the day

Mon, 24 Dec 2012
4 min read
Add Comment

Feel Good, Inc

In the spirit of not drinking and driving/riding, I took public transport to a Christmas party last Fri evening.

While going down the escalator toward the train platform at Serangoon MRT station, I took out my phone to reply to a message that had just come in.

Just as I reached the platform, I heard a brusque and brutish voice behind me shout, “Excuse me! Excuse me, sir!”

I was all ready to whip around and be like, “What the f-awrawrawrawrawrawr do you want, man?”

I was angrily wondering whose toes I had stepped on to get him all riled up like that. To the best of my knowledge, I hadn’t (knowingly) offended anyone at the station.

I turned around only to face a young man (about 16 or 17 years old), who came up to me and said, “You dropped your money.”

Words cannot describe how shocked I was.

For one, I’m quite a careful person, and I seldom make mistakes like that. Apparently, the money had fallen out of my pocket while I was taking out my phone, and I had walked on toward the train platform like an oblivious boss.

(In other news, I need a money clip, but this is in no way encouraging anyone to get me one.)

For another, I hadn’t expected this.

(Before I left the house, I grabbed all the cash that was in my wallet and stuffed it into my pocket. I didn’t count how much I’d brought out, but after some calculations on hindsight, I realised I had brought $98 out. I don’t usually bring out so much cash because I prefer to pay by card, but I knew I was going to be taking quite a lot of public transport that evening.)

I’d brought quite a bit of cash out with me and I hadn’t expected this act of goodwill; I’d assumed that I was the only altruistic person alive and Singaporeans were all evil and would’ve just taken the money they’d found.

So I stood there staring at him for about two seconds like a stunned mullet before I blurted out, “Wow. Thank you so much.”

And grabbed the cash from him. As I fumbled to rearrange the notes and put them back in my pocket, I noticed something amiss – a missing blue-coloured note.

That’s it, lah, I thought, still assuming that Singaporeans were untrustworthy bastards. The $50 note is gone.

As I paced around to check if the note was anywhere on the ground, the train chose to arrive at that opportune moment.

Between searching for the cash and not wanting to miss my ride (because I was late), I decided to abandon all hope and enter the train.

And just then, this old lady in an orange shirt, came up to me, smiling, and handed me the $50 note.

I think my jaw must have dropped open right then, but I recovered, thanked her hastily, and ran into the awaiting train.

I always thought stuff like that only happens in the movies, but I guess I was proven wrong that day.

And I’m glad I was proven wrong about Singaporeans – there still is some good and graciousness left on this island.

I hope this story has touched you one way or another, so if your faith in Singaporeans has been renewed as well, please pay this good deed forward in any way you can.

On my part, I’m going to keep on being altruistic. I’m also going to take part in the Letters Under Umbrellas project and leave a letter at Serangoon MRT station to encourage more people to keep on doing good deeds.

Merry Christmas, everyone, and see you back here on Wed!