IC? Q!

You ask most people here, and you'd find that food and shopping are national obsessions in Singapore. Well, I'd like to submit that requests for your Identification Card (IC) and queuing are two others. Let's examine this.

If you want to open a bank account, show me your IC (I do agree with this one requiring official ID). You want to buy cellphone service? Show me your IC (ok, I can still buy this, terrorists, yadda, yadda, yadda) You want to use the Clubfitt gyms? Show me your IC. You want a store discount card? IC. (I still have yet to hear of a decent, half-baked reason why this is necessary) You want to go to a spa? IC. (WTF?!) You want to talk to me? IC. (Ok, that last one I jest, but basically for any situation you can think of, and more I can't, that is the first thing people want to know.) To me, almost all of the situations above do not require official identification, yet people will obediently supply it. I'm slightly disturbed by this, due to the fact that, the information not only seems unnecessary and extraneous, but also because of the information security risks of having your IC stored in so many different places. Seriously, I've had an email response from a local government ministry that it was ok to send personal information and identification numbers over their obviously not secure website, because, if you read their Privacy Statement, it says it is secure, so there! Stop or I'll say stop again. The practice and acceptance is so widespread, and I am but one man, doing what little I can to stop the insanity, with no chance of winning.

Queues. For those of us from the only former British colony with a rebellious southern neighbour, that's a line up. They're everywhere and can even signify the popularity of a food stall or restaurant, though social experiments have proven that people will line up without knowing why, just because others have. While I think there's some room for improvements in the manner which they are used, overall I appreciate the order they bring. I giggled like a schoolgirl at the sight of a service rep at the ICA give a verbal beatdown to a PRC jumping the line. Of course, my mum nearly paid the price recently in Macau standing at the front of the line, the only thing separating a bunch of PRC from the buffet table. You'd think people who can fake just about anything could come up with a reasonable facsimile of civility.

On an unrelated note, can anyone else think of another job other than a cab driver, where it benefits you to be more incompetent? Think about it. So filing this under "Things I learned while watching Amazing Race (or actual experience)", cab drivers are a crapshoot because:

• don't always speak English (true even back in the T-dot) even in an english speaking country
• will never tell you they don't understand what you just said to them (remember what I said about seeing the lights come on? Unfortunately, once the cab is in motion, you're left to their devices)
• will never tell you they don't know where you want to go, regardless of whether or not that is true, and
• almost always expect you to pay in full for the Tour of Fill-In-Your-Current-Location (otherwise known as the fare) because 1, 2 or all of the above just happened to you. It is at this moment that you wish all cabbies were required to have "The Knowledge" that the reputedly best cabbies in the world have. At least then they might take some pride in their work. Or at least, not talk on their cellphone when you are trying to give them directions. But here, that'd be too much to ask.

New beginnings...

First off, apologies to those who I didn't get to meet up with before leaving or were left out in the dark.

It's been close to a month since we've been here and I'm starting to settle into the place I'm going to call home for the next few years. So far, we've been focusing on planning our wedding reception here and just getting set up here (getting a phone, internet, finding a new church, etc), so not too much to report. In the meantime, I'm experimenting with this to be one more way for my friends back home to keep in touch with what's happening to me, if they're at all interested.

As a stranger in a strange land, you know that sometimes things get done differently from what you're used to. This past week, I was due for a haircut, so I asked my wife where I should go.

"Oh, all guys get their hair cut by M---- barbers," she says.

What do I know? So off we go. Instructions given, vague nod given by the butcher (I mistake this for understanding). Part way through, I think to myself, maybe they just do things differently here (wrong move, should've spoken up). The end result:

This picture is based on actual events. Any similarity to any person living or dead is quite unfortunate.

Or is it actual humans were harmed in order to shoot this picture?

The moral of the story is, if it doesn't look right, it isn't going to turn out right, speak up. Just because most people speak English don't assume they understand, use short words until you see the lights come on, otherwise you end up looking like you've just done National Service (which coincidentally is a requirement for all males here). On the plus side, I haven't had to use any product for the last week or for the forseeable future. As it turns out, none of her friends polled gets their haircut by M---- barbers and the last time her information would have been accurate was when the Spice Girls weren't their own tribute band.

While we are here, we'd like to have as many friends visit as possible. There are somethings that you need to know:

1. Do you remember when we were younger and every visit to MacD's or any other fast food joint meant taking more napkins than you could ever use in 10 visits? Hope you saved them up, because napkins are not provided here in many of the eateries here (hawker centres, kopitiam or coffee shops). That's because all the paper is being used by
2. Highly trained assasins. Beware of most underpasses, MRT, mall and store entrances. These pathways are patrolled by people capable of silently slashing out at passers-by with a flyer or five. My worst encounter happened here. I still have scars on my forearms and the shredded t-shirt I wore that day I ran the guantlet of tightly packed exhibition stalls patrolled by an army of these individuals. I barely survived the Path of a Thousand Papercuts.
3. As much as guns are ubiquitous in the US and subsequently become involved in shootings such as this one, cellphones are just as omnipresent here and also similarly involved in incidents with unfortunate consequences. People become incapable of walking properly, fail to hold handrails on a moving bus, and become generally oblivious to their surroundings, resulting in stepped upon toes or worse, unwanted contact. Chances are, you or someone close to you will become a victim, the odds are stacked against you. People here will respond to the sirens' call that can happen anywhere, anytime (while in church, while watching a movie, while someone at the bank trying to sell you things they can't fully explain.) The only thing more numerous than cellphones are the rules here, but that, my friends is fodder for another post.

EDIT: Immigration controls are important in Singapore, like any other country. This was evidenced by the heavy "security" placed around the MTR exit close to the ICA. In the morning when I arrived, there were only 6 pamphlet pushers on patrol, by the time I left in the early afternoon, that had been doubled to manage the increased traffic flow.

EDIT: Having just returned from HK, I have to say that the paper assasins here have nothing on those in Hong Kong, they simply lack the numbers and killer instinct. Instead of waiting like they do here, they pounce and pursue with aggression. Not making eye contact is not enough. You've been warned.