Day 6: Goodbyes

There was nothing much to document on this day.

We said our goodbyes to the CMU students, and gave Fye the notebook we had prepared. Unfortunately, since some people had overslept, we could not take a final Youth Culture group photograph before we left. Even though some of us did take a picture with Fye before leaving, as we were being shepherded by the tour guide to board the bus, the picture was blurry.

Perhaps memories should last further than any photo document. Would the words I have written for my daily reflection help preserve this experience? I hope it does.

Yet, I began questioning myself. What was there to takeaway from Chiang Mai besides souvenirs? The people are friendly and warm. The food there is delicious. The culture is distinct, and people are polite. Youth are mindful of their elders.

The roads are not as well-planned as Singapore’s. They have few traffic junctions, and crossing the road requires so much courage, such that you can use many idiomatic expressions while crossing the road in Chiang Mai, be it “taking a leap of faith”, “biting the bullet”, etc.

They are religious, and mostly devout Buddhists. There are temples everywhere. There is a lack of public libraries in Chiang Mai. They have a nature park for conservation of elephants.

However, globalisation has impacted their ideologies, and they are gradually becoming more open as a community.

But what are we? What is Singapore? In comparison, I was unsure of my identity.

Strangeness in Chiang Mai made sense. But it would be awkward if I felt that way towards my homeland, Singapore. As Philip Larkin highlighted in his poem “The Importance of Elsewhere”, it would be much more unforgivable to dismiss the customs and familiarity which distinguish my homeland.

Back in Singapore, in this humid cosmopolitan city, where home and family was, I thought about what being a Singaporean meant. It meant entitlement to social mobility, it meant a government relatively free from corruption, and that we need not be oppressed by the government. It meant clean drinking water, a good education which does promote critical thinking and evaluation, and safe streets to walk in. Being a Singaporean means having a right to our individuality, and not necessarily having to inherit political and religious beliefs from our parents. Being Singaporean meant being privileged, and having an additional responsibility to help others who are less privileged as you are.

We have constantly been accused for not having a distinct Singaporean identity. This is perhaps a dismissal of one’s responsibility to value the Singaporean identity. What else would being a Singaporean mean to you?

After figuring out my thoughts, at least I can now sincerely quote Larkin, whilst living in Singapore,

“Here no elsewhere underwrites my existence.”