There's absolutely no doubt as to how much I loved my time in Europe. As I spent hours being awed by the remains of past civilisations, as I admired the beautiful views in the likes of Cinque Terre, as I stood right below the Eiffel Tower and sighed at the complexity of the metal frames that supported and made up the Eiffel Tower, as I so often looked up at the simple yet well-decorated windows while on the streets of Barcelona and so many, many more incredible memories that Europe has left me with. But throughout it all, we've never stopped comparing it to Singapore. Mostly due to the fact that Singapore and living in Singapore is all we've known for most of our lives, I admit. But there's more.
On Jolene's second, and I think, my third, day in Barcelona, we decided to explore a little more beyond our neighbourhood. After all the Googling and TripAdvisoring, we figured we'd make the trip down to La Rambla, which was like the Orchard Road equivalent in Barcelona. But we'd also read the numerous articles on how many pickpockets there were in Barcelona and especially La Rambla. We'd heard stories told by our parents and extended family on how dangerous Europe is. To avoid any and all people who'd speak to us, ask us for directions, to always have our bigs in front of us, etc.
So Jo and I basically took the smallest sling bags (or only bag, really - the shopping craze hadn't started then) we had, slung them over our shoulders and packed them with essentials and as little valuables as possible.
iTouch? Nope.
DSLR? No can't risk getting that stolen.
Money? "I think 20 euros is enough.......... right?" / "Eh keep your money in different pockets in case anyone picks us"
Phone? If we weren't taking the DSLR and cameras I guess we'd still need a phone for the photos.
Even as we got onto the metro, Jo and I were cautious as hell. We eyed the other Catalans who were clearly minding their our own business. Jo and I were constantly saying things like "Eh be careful of that guy - looks funky", "That guy behind you...", while trading pickpocketing horror stories.
And when we finally got to La Rambla, Jo and I fell in love with the trees and the sun, and the shadow of the leaves and spots of sunlight on the ground. We were so compelled to take photos, we did.
But not without making sure we were standing next to large trees, away from the hustle and bustle of the middle lanes of La Rambla, with our bags (still) slung in front of us and saying to the other "Eh okay, I take out my phone now okay you help me watch out for anyone suspicious." And so the other would have to play the role of Obama's bodyguard, looking around for anyone who looked like they'd run over and grab our phones while the one with the phone would quickly tap on their screens to get a quick shot then tuck their phone back into their bag. Repeat process for the next person taking the photo.
And so this went on for the entire day and I must say, it really was tiring as hell constantly being so wary of everyone and keeping such a lookout. It definitely sounds dumb now and Jo and I laugh whenever we get reminded of it, but we were kids who'd taken the safety of walking along the street with open bags for granted. And in that exact moment, we missed home so entirely much.
Us Singaporeans spend so much of our time complaining.
We complain about the MRTs being delayed and stalling. But we don't have a problem like Belgium does with its frequent strikes and constant train delays. I befriended this man while on my way to Maastricht who told me he spent 180 euros on a taxi fare because he was stranded in Gant because of the strike that happened when he was on his way home via the train.
We complain about how strict things are - no eating/drinking in the MRTs, no chewing gum yaddah yaddah. I can't even begin to tell you how dirty the trains in Barcelona can get with all the crumbs and food wrappers left behind by those who do eat on the train. Sure, its convenient. I like being able to run out of the house with a ham-cheese sandwich in hand as I attempt to get to school on time, then eating said sandwich on the subway.
We also complain about how there's nothing to do in Singapore. How stifled the art scene might be. Of course we don't have an arts scene like the States does. We don't have the beautifully graffiitied walls like the Berlin Walls like in the East Side Gallery, we don't have Miro (which I honestly still don't understand) nor do we have the beautiful architecture you find on the streets of Passeig de Gracia in Barcelona or Champs-Élysées in Paris. But we do have plenty of other great things - if only we took the time out to explore for ourselves. We have budding local musicians and great artists who are contributing to the arts in Singapore and I myself, see Singapore growing in its vibrancy.
We complain about the immense flow of foreigners in our country. How they sit on public lawns in City Hall and Lakeside as they have picnics on Sundays. How they smell when they get onto the MRT after hours of labouring in the warm embrace of the sun. How they steal our jobs and dilute our national identity. But what are we if not a melting pot of identities? We started out as an island inhabited by the indigenous and forefathers who migrated from China, Malaysia, India and everywhere around, who came in search of opportunities. Opportunities to build themselves a career, a family, to feed their existing family, to find love. And perhaps that's what Singapore truly is - a nation of opportunities for everybody. One thing is for sure though, that our forefathers wouldn't be proud of who we are today, for the way we look down upon the immigrants who come in search of a greater life - people just like our forefathers. Don't we ourselves want to venture to other shores in search of greater opportunities? We send our children to prestigious universities in the States and in the UK too. What makes us so sure we're so welcomed there?
We have our problems, yes we do. Our trains may not run as on time as the ones in Japan do. Men give up two years of their life for conscription. Housing and car prices are worries for the next generation. But what we do have is a safe, clean and successful Singapore. We may not be the best in everything, but we make up for it in other ways. Not all that we have today was directly from the efforts of
the Mr Lee, and we may not all agree with his methods. But it's clear that he's laid the foundation for our successes.
Thank you, our forefathers, Mr Lee Kuan Yew, and everyone who's played a part in building Singapore.
Rest in peace, Mr Lee Kuan Yew, I hope we continue to do you proud.
