- Joined
- Jul 10, 2008
- Messages
- 1,634
- Points
- 48
Currently on vacation in Singapore and catching with people after so many years of absence.
It will be a long visit, some to say long overdue farewells, some to say goodbye to lost friends and family, some to welcome the new additions and some to welcome them to a new stage in their lives.
How things have changed. Singapore is indeed packed to the rafters. I could not walk from Taka to Ion without bumping into at least a dozen people. Ion itself is impressive, though a bit confusing while inside. So many years in Singapore that I lived and not once did I step into a designer boutique, but on that day, there I was, picking up a nice watch, purse, wallet and some ties. All the more joy in shopping in these places wearing my work issue safety boots, bermudas and a simple polo tee, relishing every moment of the spending power a strong aussie dollar gave me.
Singaporeans indeed have prospered, the young I see seem to have so much more disposable income, more youngsters I see driving nice (parents) cars, and even a lot more 5 series BMW and Mercs (>200E) that I see on the road compared to my relatively cheap 335 rental that I arranged with a private owner; It must be the cheap credit available nowadays, but perhaps a lot more risk-taking bankers and lawyers than the financially clueless Engineers from bygone days like me.
But as seductively glamourous as the facade was, so easy it was to expose the bleakness just under the surface.
After a satisfying dinner at Redhill, I had my fill and was sitting back soaking up the heat with a cold glass of sugarcane. An elderly man, frail and feet shuffling slowly came walking up our row of tables, begging for some money. As he reached our table, my hand went for my pocket to grab a few coins to give him to let him be on his way without bothering us. My friends stopped me and said, "forget it lah, this kind of people surely got mental problem, drunk or gamble all his money away before".
So I held back, and when he reached my table, I waved him off, and not once made eye contact. Against my conscience, I rationalised that perhaps I should not spoon feed these "type" of people.
10 minutes later as I was walking back to the car, I heard a commotion a few rows away. As it was along the way, I wondered what in the world was happening, so I made a slight diversion. In front, I saw the same old man facing a hawker, hands clasped and occasionally bringing his fingers to his mouth, as if begging for mercy and a morsel of food. The hawker (a local, from the accent and vulgarities used) was berating him for not having money to pay for his food. The old man looked into his purse, and all I saw was a few coins, not amounting to a dollar. The hawker was impatient, demanding and abusive. All the while the old man was literally begging for sustenance, to fill his stomach for just one more meal...
My heart broke into bits. I saw other patrons either sitting down ignoring the commotion with their heads stuck in their food, or nonchalantly sitting and watching as spectators. My friends were pulling me away, telling me to ignore it, no point staring...but this time my feet were rooted on the ground. I was not angry with the stallholder hurling abuse at the old man and I was not disgusted at the sight of the old man begging. I was...how should I say...guilt striken and crying inside that this is the Singapore I thought I would never see.
Just then, the stall holder opposite from the one I was at, came out with a packet filled with some rice, meat and veggies. He handed it to the old man and muttered some words that I just managed to pick up the accent (From China) and words to the effect, "Don't need to pay, this I give you free."
What happened seemed to be as if time slowed down. My hand reached in and pulled out my wallet. I paid the abusive stallholder a note and grabbed the packet the old man could not pay for and handed it to him. I walked to the good samaritan stallholder and gave him another and asked him to take it; he deserved to know that he was not alone in his actions. I looked at the old man and grabbed whatever remaining notes (quite a substantial sum) in my wallet and thrust them into his open purse.The old man grabbed my hand, clasped them with his, bowed his head towards it, and repeatedly said, "God bless you, God bless you, thank you."
I thanked him but could find no more words to say. The onlookers began to sink back to their food and my friends by now were patting me on my back saying, "well done, well done".
But all this could not take the weight off my mind that this was a forgotten Singaporean, and it was Singapore that has discarded such old folk and could not afford them a spoonful of dignity in their old age. Surely the interest alone derived from the taxes garnered from the thousands of Porsche, Lambo, Ferrari, BMW, Merc owners and young kids driving flash cars could feed the less fortunate for the remainder of their lives. Elderly folk like him should not have had to resort to begging for food, they should be taken care of, given the best that Singapore has to offer. How could so many people just stand and gawk at the scene, to be so close to desperation but yet so distant??
I wish someone here could tell me what I could do to help. Money alone cannot be the only means, the emotional void to support our elderly destitute, to empathise, sympathise and perhaps empower should be filled, or else, how can we look at a mirror and say that we have lived a good life...
Perhaps this is why I wrote what I did today, in this forum, in this section.
Thanks for listening.
It will be a long visit, some to say long overdue farewells, some to say goodbye to lost friends and family, some to welcome the new additions and some to welcome them to a new stage in their lives.
How things have changed. Singapore is indeed packed to the rafters. I could not walk from Taka to Ion without bumping into at least a dozen people. Ion itself is impressive, though a bit confusing while inside. So many years in Singapore that I lived and not once did I step into a designer boutique, but on that day, there I was, picking up a nice watch, purse, wallet and some ties. All the more joy in shopping in these places wearing my work issue safety boots, bermudas and a simple polo tee, relishing every moment of the spending power a strong aussie dollar gave me.
Singaporeans indeed have prospered, the young I see seem to have so much more disposable income, more youngsters I see driving nice (parents) cars, and even a lot more 5 series BMW and Mercs (>200E) that I see on the road compared to my relatively cheap 335 rental that I arranged with a private owner; It must be the cheap credit available nowadays, but perhaps a lot more risk-taking bankers and lawyers than the financially clueless Engineers from bygone days like me.
But as seductively glamourous as the facade was, so easy it was to expose the bleakness just under the surface.
After a satisfying dinner at Redhill, I had my fill and was sitting back soaking up the heat with a cold glass of sugarcane. An elderly man, frail and feet shuffling slowly came walking up our row of tables, begging for some money. As he reached our table, my hand went for my pocket to grab a few coins to give him to let him be on his way without bothering us. My friends stopped me and said, "forget it lah, this kind of people surely got mental problem, drunk or gamble all his money away before".
So I held back, and when he reached my table, I waved him off, and not once made eye contact. Against my conscience, I rationalised that perhaps I should not spoon feed these "type" of people.
10 minutes later as I was walking back to the car, I heard a commotion a few rows away. As it was along the way, I wondered what in the world was happening, so I made a slight diversion. In front, I saw the same old man facing a hawker, hands clasped and occasionally bringing his fingers to his mouth, as if begging for mercy and a morsel of food. The hawker (a local, from the accent and vulgarities used) was berating him for not having money to pay for his food. The old man looked into his purse, and all I saw was a few coins, not amounting to a dollar. The hawker was impatient, demanding and abusive. All the while the old man was literally begging for sustenance, to fill his stomach for just one more meal...
My heart broke into bits. I saw other patrons either sitting down ignoring the commotion with their heads stuck in their food, or nonchalantly sitting and watching as spectators. My friends were pulling me away, telling me to ignore it, no point staring...but this time my feet were rooted on the ground. I was not angry with the stallholder hurling abuse at the old man and I was not disgusted at the sight of the old man begging. I was...how should I say...guilt striken and crying inside that this is the Singapore I thought I would never see.
Just then, the stall holder opposite from the one I was at, came out with a packet filled with some rice, meat and veggies. He handed it to the old man and muttered some words that I just managed to pick up the accent (From China) and words to the effect, "Don't need to pay, this I give you free."
What happened seemed to be as if time slowed down. My hand reached in and pulled out my wallet. I paid the abusive stallholder a note and grabbed the packet the old man could not pay for and handed it to him. I walked to the good samaritan stallholder and gave him another and asked him to take it; he deserved to know that he was not alone in his actions. I looked at the old man and grabbed whatever remaining notes (quite a substantial sum) in my wallet and thrust them into his open purse.The old man grabbed my hand, clasped them with his, bowed his head towards it, and repeatedly said, "God bless you, God bless you, thank you."
I thanked him but could find no more words to say. The onlookers began to sink back to their food and my friends by now were patting me on my back saying, "well done, well done".
But all this could not take the weight off my mind that this was a forgotten Singaporean, and it was Singapore that has discarded such old folk and could not afford them a spoonful of dignity in their old age. Surely the interest alone derived from the taxes garnered from the thousands of Porsche, Lambo, Ferrari, BMW, Merc owners and young kids driving flash cars could feed the less fortunate for the remainder of their lives. Elderly folk like him should not have had to resort to begging for food, they should be taken care of, given the best that Singapore has to offer. How could so many people just stand and gawk at the scene, to be so close to desperation but yet so distant??
I wish someone here could tell me what I could do to help. Money alone cannot be the only means, the emotional void to support our elderly destitute, to empathise, sympathise and perhaps empower should be filled, or else, how can we look at a mirror and say that we have lived a good life...
Perhaps this is why I wrote what I did today, in this forum, in this section.
Thanks for listening.
