In the past few weeks since my last mass-ish update, I have been in 4 different countries, I have hit new highs and lows, and I have seen history repeat itself all while I have broken new records among friends. And on this latter point is where I shall start my update...
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In our 5 months studying in Singapore, many warnings had been headed to obey the law. Of course, like everyone else that comes through this City-State we had the pop. culture image of Singapore ingrained in us: play hard, but stay within the lines even harder!
So, we would ride the MRT (metro) careful not to board with drinks or food (or durian, cause that's a category all on its own). We would walk the streets and keep everything on our persons-- spit, trash, and all.
All in all, we were cautious of being out of step at the wrong time and none of us wanted to face the re-precautions of such actions. At worst, Singapore still practices the death penalty, and at best, the governme
nt is fine-happy. On this last point, there is a particular t-shirt that deserves noted credit for creating this perception (see right). In fact, I was actually told by one Italian backpacker that the sole reason he came to Singapore (for 3 days, which he ended up abhoring) was to purchase this infamous "Singapore is a Fine City" t-shirt from Chinatown and walk away, with a fine. Needless to say, he was not fined (hence, "abhorred"). So it goes without saying, a lot of people have this idea about the government and the oft menial things they will do to keep their city as such by fining the people that walk its streets.Anyways, as it concerned us exchange students, this perceived threat soon became a running joke, or to some, even a challenge of defiance. After a few months of nervous self-enforced best behaviour out of what some concluded was simply 'hypothetical fear', we all became more confident in the gum packs we kept hidden in our pockets and jay-walking tendencies. And as time kept-ticking, no one was caught-- for anything.
Much like the Italian backpacker I would later meet, I remember talking to some friends at the end of our exchange and almost laughing at the fact that no one had walked away with a scratch. Everyone-- all hundreds of us wild-Western liberalists-- left without so much as a light scold from the Singaporean government.
I myself had never fantasized in egging on the police, nor challenging the states authority. But in any case I have to admit, I felt pretty confident that only something drastic I did could warrant such attention (or, detention). You see, a friend of mine had calmed my fears one night over wine and cheese as he recounted his two years serving in the mandatory Military Service (MS). As a Malay-Singaporean, young guys like him are often placed in the police force. The most evident reason for this is that a large part of crime in the state is Malay driven-- and so the government hires and recruits men that are able to communicate with this demographic. My friend tells me that, like most young guys serving their time in the MS (and there are A LOT of these young guys, considering ALL young guys have to go through MS), he was shy of girls. And so it was that he never implicated any girl while on duty, despite having seen some questionable things.
Of course, I had noticed this hands-on. The young police officers don't look, don't question. In fact, they even look scared of YOU.
And so, there I was, approaching the very final days of my time in Singapore and like the rest of us internationals feeling quite immune and befooled by Chinatown's most deceiving souvenir.
But all that was about to change.
As I made my way to the airport (destination: Bali!), I had preemptively given myself more than enough time for any airport altrication, should one happen. It was just this feeling, a little pulse I felt deep in my gut enforced by my previous adventures (see blog one), that had made me think ahead-- 4 hours ahead just to be sure.
And so, after sleeping at most 2 hours the night before, I was prepared for the worse-- or my worse, I should say. But what I hadn't been prepared for was being DETAINED!
YES, I-- a young, GIRL, from Canada-- was detained in Singapore for what I would soon have a name for. My crime: "Overstaying".
After a couple of hours having to deal with a middle-aged, female immigration agent-- who was clearly not charmed by any of my charms-- I was made to sign a statement that recognized I had been illegally (she kept repeating, just so I would never forget) living in Singapore for a total of 13 days.
You see, when I had gone to renew my passport with the Canadian government (that fateful day), they had assured me I would have to stay in Singapore in the meanwhile, but that my presence would be classified under "Tourist", which gave me exactly 60 days (to wait out my passport, worse comes to worse).
Twenty-two days later when I finally got my passport back and was a free citizen of the world again, it took only five days before I exited/ fled the country to take refuge in beautiful Bali. Which made a grand total of twenty-seven days-- or, thirty-three days before
"Tourist" expiration date; or, otherwise seen through my eyes, good to go!
Well no, I was not good to go! (Thanks again, Canadian Government!)
In the end, I had to pay a FINE!
So, 100$ later I walked out with a receipt which had my name right at the bottom on the dotted line signed beside the word "Overstayer". I was, officially, fined in Singapore for being an Overstayer.
At first, this thought made me want to cry. I held my receipt, holding back tears as I doumbfoundedly walked through Changi airport to the only place of comfort I knew, the book store (right beside the pastries stand).
And there, as I browsed the books (while devouring my chocolatine, and then my swiss pastry), trying to find comfort in Haruki Murakami's short stories noted for spiritual emptiness, I started to think about Chinatown, and that stupid t-shirt, and that silly Italian backpacker... and how utterly jealous/ awed he would have been of my story.
In hindsight, thus, I've proudly held on to my receipt. In fact, when I have a home and a wall to call my own again, I will hang it up, right next to that stupid t-shirt and be living proof that fines do happen in Singapore, under the most unfortunate circumstances.
So you see, I'm quite proud of my accomplishment-- only because today I can tell you, I'm FINE-d!
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