The Singapore Walker

I have become the Singapore Walker. I have toured much of Singapore in the past few weeks, visiting temples and interviewing priests and devotees alike. I find myself increasingly detached from my own social circle, having talked to more strangers than friends during those weeks. These strangers are whom I regard as "transient friends", and I enjoy the conservations that I have with them. I am comfortable with such a lifestyle. There is no emotional burden, and I don't need to offer anything or hope to be reciprocated in kind. It is free for me and free for all as well.

One afternoon, I was on a bus bound for Jurong East when a group of "rowdy" students boarded it. As if to fit the common stereotype of neighbourhood students, they chunkled and chattered on the bus in obvious disregard of other passengers. The bus was approaching a halt at a bus-stop when two of them ran towards a man who was making his way down the stairs. One boy handed the man a wallet, which belongs to the latter. Most of the passengers who witnessed this scene were markedly impressed by this simple act of honesty and integrity. Therefore, "never judge a book by its cover!"

On another day, I was in Changi Village when I became thirsty and tired and had to stop for a rest near a jetty. I bought ice-cream from a roadside vendor, who was accompanied by his wife. They are a kind couple, and I talked to them for about half an hour. It was a pleasant conversation that spanned from how the DJ Zhou Chongqing broke a leg after biking on Pulau Ubin to why some bicycle tracks in Singapore are unsafe. When I had to go to the washroom, they offered to look after my stuff (which included my wallet and laptop), so I went and took my own sweet time at the loo, enjoying the trust that I had in them. I parted ways with them when a new shipment of returnees, their prospective patrons, arrived from Pulau Ubin.

I need to thank my professors for the time that I am having these days. They are always so kind and patient with me. I don't have to file progress reports, and there is mutual trust and understanding between us. Of course, I cannot rely only on their generosity and kindness to complete my ethnographic data. I have to count on my diligence and, more importantly, passion.

It seems to me, especially so in recent weeks, that research has to be fuelled by passion. The mere prospect of becoming a professor and earning fat paychecks cannot sustain any researcher on the long run. The fieldwork and research that I commit myself to has allowed me to rehearse and prepare for the kind of life that I may lead in the next decades and in retirement as well. I will need to work alone, be innovative in my research topics, squeeze my creative juices dry, be hardworking, and survive a lifestyle surrounded by strangers. I possess the calibre of a hermit, and I am well-aware of it.