Singaporeans are selfish.
Or so some say.
We’re cold, efficient, punctual to a fault- and we’re unashamed of it. After all, we’ve come so far and we’ve done so much. There is more to do, surely. Let’s cut the niceties and move on.
Returning from a completely different culture where events, and not time dictate one’s schedule, where nobody is in a hurry, where it is customary for people to greet strangers gregariously and where an apology is enough reason for any sizeable mishap, we weren’t sure how fitting in back home in Singapore would look like.
“You guys are in for a rough ride,” we were warned.
Wondering how a lost sock might feel like in a washing machine, I braced myself for the worst- imagining returning home to a hazy, sweltering island filled with bustling traffic and streets thronged with people, paying three times the rent living in a matchbox room, scrambling and digging deep into our pockets to set up yet another transient home, and being bombarded by endless speaking engagements, appointments, meetings, while everyone continued their busy rhythm of life, expecting us to do the same, too.
One evening, just two nights after we landed in Singapore, as Cliff and I sat at the back of a mover’s open-air lorry zooming across the Singapore highways underneath the starshine of streetlights, tears of gratitude welled up in my eyes. We were sitting atop a brand new mattress, given to us by a stranger who had heard of our return home for a brief year, before we uproot again.
” Aiyo, no need ‘keqi’ (be so formal) la. This mattress I never use oso (also)- see got plastic sheet still on. I buy for my daughter but she only want to sleep with us. So no worry la, don’t shy, just take. You got backache or not? This one veh (very) hard one neh, veh (very) good for backache.”
True enough, the mattress we had in Uganda was a softie- because of worsening body aches, we ended up sleeping on it on the floor. Having this rock-solid mattress, was exactly what we needed.
Cars whizzed by us in orderly lanes, smooth like butter, in the cool night air. From the back of the lorry, a perspective we never had before, the view of the Singapore city at night was stunning.
At our next stop, a jolly elderly man with silver-white hair came to receive us.
“This washing machine is very, very good. We wanted to sell it, but we really hope you will be blessed by it.”
“Uncle” was a friend’s friend’s father, and had no intention to charge us a cent for this well-working, digitalized washer with multiple functions. We had brought a bag of fruits instead to thank him. As we heaved the heavyweight washer onto the lorry, we saw him chase after us from the lobby of the HDB flat.
“Thank you for your fruits. But you know, you guys needn’t have.”
There was a moment of awkwardness, familiar to Asians where one precariously attempts to balance one’s good motives with tact, manouvreing one’s words carefully to avoid making the other party feel bad. In Chinese culture, it can be offensive or condescending even, when one refuses a gift.
Exuding an unmistakable warm presence of fatherliness, Uncle held us and said, “Here, I take the mangoes. You two keep the other fruits… strawberries and lychees, you two haven’t eaten for too long already. Go and enjoy. These mangoes are more than enough for me.”
It was his thoughtful gesture and fatherly kindness, at the risk of making us feel bad, that overwhelmed me. Tears filled my eyes, as I felt God’s love envelope us through his gentle words. It was as if Uncle knew, that while we had mangoes frequently as a local produce in Africa, strawberries and lychees were non-existent. Strawberries are my favorite, while lychees are one of Cliff’s.
Sitting back on the lorry under the stars, flanked between a brand-new upright mattress and an expensive washer, I sat feeling overwhelmed.
A few months ago, I was in a tailspin just thinking about how we would find a new rental home, how to furnish an empty space all over, and resettle into a new rhythm of life again.
But barely 24-hours after we touched down, we were given the keys to a beautiful home for us to house-sit, rent-free, until a buyer came along, which could possibly be a year later, given the current property slump. Not only was it in the exact location I had prayed for, equidistant from Cliff’s and my workplaces, it was right next to a Nature Reserve, another humble prayer request I had whispered to God (“Oh God, I’ll miss the nature in Africa”), without thinking much of it.
On the third day of our arrival, an elegant, spacious second-hand sofa set, and 2 glass coffee tables arrived at the empty house, with their delivery costs fully covered. What startled me, was how the colors of the cushions matched the red and golden marble tiles of the home, a detail only God could have known would matter to me.
The next morning, someone else informed us that a brand new fridge, and not the second-hand one we had been looking at online, would be arriving in a few days.
With the wind in our hair at the back of the lorry, I marveled at the generosity and love poured out unto us by Singaporeans, many whom did not even know us, and the abundant grace, faithfulness and provision of God.
Deep inside, both Cliff and I know that it would have been easier for us to stay in Africa, especially since we had just adjusted to that new world. We had lived atop a hill filled with amazing wildlife, we were connected to the local community, we lived simply- and now we had to move again?
But isn’t life with God like that? We want to stay where we are even when He beckons us elsewhere, because we can’t see how things can get any better. We whine, we cry, we run away, because our minds cannot conceive how things can possibly be better. Uncertainty and fear paralyze us.
But God has His ways. He is unbound by the limitations of our minds and the boundaries of our faith. His imagination is endless; His provision, inexhaustible.
None of what has happened was what I imagined things to be.
As we unloaded the mattress and washer to the house, a sprightly middle-aged lady in running shorts came to say hello.
“Oh, when are you guys moving in? I’m so happy to meet you-welcome! I live right across, and whenever you need anything- tools, food, an extra set of hands, please come in! You’ll love it here- there’s so much of nature and it’s SO tranquil here at night! The neighbors here are so sweet- you will love them!”
Her warm hospitality overwhelmed us like a bear hug.
Having slept on a mattress on the floor in Africa for a year, with giant safari ants biting us awake at times, I was longing to sleep on a bed again. Days later, a friend’s friend contacted us. “I’m selling my bedframe for $100, but we’d like to give it to you both for free. Could you just arrange for the mover’s to pick it up?” The bedframe, a beautiful golden wooden one, fit our queen mattress perfectly.
A week later, all we needed was provided for, besides a dining table set. One afternoon, a couple had offered to buy a brandnew 2-person table set for us. It touched me deeply- yet, something inside nudged me to decline politely. Somehow, I had envisioned a 4-6 person wooden dining table set to host guests in, and I felt God telling me to wait. Two hours later, I received an email from a stranger whom I had written to about an enquiry to buy her 2nd-hand dining set, that she would like to pass it on to us… for free. It was the 4-person wooden dining set, exactly how I had imagined it to be.
In a record time of 8 days, all we needed for a home came together, from ground zero. Today is Day 13, and we are all set to move into our new home. We are speechless.
Singaporeans may be labelled cold, efficient and punctual to a fault. But this time, as I re-entered Singapore more like a voyager without the usual establishments of a home, I came to truly witness and experience the hospitality, support and encouragement of a people whose hearts are open and bursting with warmth, generosity and love.
Here, I received multiple text messages and emails from friends and strangers every day, asking if we needed a new washer, bedframe, mattress, utensils, because of the intense connectivity of social media. Last week, an obviously rather trendy Grandmother with her facebook wall plastered with delicious local meals she cooks, facebooked me, “Ah girl, I saw from another Facebook page that you two are missionaries just returning to Singapore. I love to cook- can I bless you with some home-cooked meals? Where are you staying now?”
I never followed up on Granny’s offer but her heart touched mine.
Here, I can walk out at night to the convenient store to buy a bunch of bananas, I can turn on the tap to always expect clean running water which is drinkable, I can reactivate my bank card, call the movers and set up a hair appointment sitting on the same chair with my phone, I can set multiple appointments instead of just one in a day because the world here bends itself backwards to be on time.
With fresh eyes, all I had taken for granted before became the great mercies and treasured experiences of life, because they are the unexpected rarity elsewhere.
As Singapore celebrates it’s 50th birthday with a Jubilee bang, I’ll have to say I’m proud to be part of a community who works at breakneck efficiency, and lives with unselfish generosity, with hearts filled to the brim with love.
Thank you for setting up our home with such selfless, pragmatic efficiency (and there’s no need to apologize for that).
It’s just good to be back, Singapore- till our next journey begins.
