There's been a survey on Singaporeans thinking that we are gracious people. I know I am slow to react to this piece of new but since the matter has been lingering in the papers for about a month now, I figured I might as well talk about it.
No, we are not gracious.
Each day as I travel to and from work I am reminded of how we are not.
1. Cyclists riding on pavements as if they own the street, tinkling their whiny little bells to warn us of their speedy presence to get out their way. Hello, it's a pavement, two-wheeled ding dong.
2. The lifts in the MRT stations are a special cause of frustration for me. Able bodied people who simply can't be bothered to take the escalator (not even the stairs) up or down to the platforms irk the hell out of me. Today, one of the upriding escalators at the station I enter the system at broke down. As expected, people stuffed the lift without care or concern, as if it was their right to do so. And when the lift became overloaded, everyone simply paid no heed or looked around for a sign in the air to tell them to bugger off. I did write to TODAY once about a wheelchair bound man who couldn't board the lift at Tanjong Pagar as office type simply crowded in because it was the quickest way out of the station.
3. There are priority seats in the trains for the elderly, pregnant and incapacitated with children. If you're going to sit there, you better fall into one of these categories (1 day pregnant doesn't count). Else you damn well better get up FIRST when someone in such circumstance boards.
4. Pole leaners, they are everywhere. I have seen uncles, aunties, men in suits, women in dresses, kids in uniform, the whole gamut of Singaporeans who suddenly go spineless at the sight of metal pole. They meld their bodies to the shiny metal as if they are peanut butter on bread. It seems that the poles in the trains are meant for total body support. It's all fine and dandy if there's no one else around to hold the pole. Please don't squish your limp ass for support when it's peak hour and ladies in heels might go flying when they can't hold on as the train suddenly screeches to an unexpected halt. Or at those little bits or track before/after Ang Mo Kio, Clementi and Jurong East when the trains jerk.
5. What's wrong with moving in? Sometimes in the evenings when I go home late after yoga, I struggle to get into the train at Newton because everyone seems to like to hang out at the door. I don't get it. There's bloody dancing room in the middle and people still want to crowd at the exits. It seems like MRT folks need to outline places where people should stand to optimise standing room. We are after all a spoonfed society.
6. Music soothes the savage beast. Not this one. Somehow people with fancy, new handphones with boombox quality speakers feel the need to let everyone in a 20 metre radius know they listen to Dr Dre, Diddy, 50 Cent, Rihanna, Snoop and TI. There must be something about projecting hiphop through a subway train. Goodness, get out the flashdance 80s and get into the introverted, keep-to-yourself new millennium man. Earphones, go get some and stop bothering us people who are trying to take a nap. And don't you dare start choosing your ringtones at full volume...
7. I have seen train passengers who turn aghast when their cards get rejected at the fare gates. The dreadful red of error/mistake/problem flashes for all to see and they can't believe they have no money left in their piece of techy plastic. They stand bewildered for 2 seconds, then try to encourage the green light to appear for the next 5 seconds, furious tapping/slamming their cards/purses/wallets on the sensor board as if a miracle will happen while a line of peeved passengers wonder what the hell is going on. Get out the way you dumb ass and go to the station control.
Do we not see these flaws because we are looking at ourselves? Like when someone asks if you're a good person and you think of course I am without hesitation, deviation or doubt. (Alas when you think about it later, you wonder.) When we think about people from other cultures and countries, we are quick to point out their quirks and bad habits.
(I sighed at this point)
So this has been a extended blab about how I perceive our lack of graciousness. It has helped keep my brain awake for the past half hour as the office day winds away. At this time I remember that the Cold Storage dude said "hi, how are you?" to the angmoh and not me. Hmmm. Yeah, gracious my ass.
No, I am not going blind but it helps doesn't it, reading large text? Why does all text have to be so tiny? Why force the muscles in the eye to stress themselves out and scrunch up the lens to curvature rivalling Pam An?
