Ignoring Ignorance

Just went downstairs and bought some chips and a can of Jolly Shandy Lychee (Bagus!). Figured I need a little alcohol(0.5%!) to begin this blog post. My aim for tonight is to finish this blog post, watch an episode of Gays Over Flowers Heroes and tuck myself in bed. All before 3am.


I was working today, as usual, doing the same old boring stuff. It's pretty taxing trying to act enthusiastic and happy just with your voice alone. Good afternoon Transcab! Screw you. Do you need a taxi now? Screw you. Where are you now? Screw you. Where do you want to go? Screw you. Please hold the line and wait for the taxi number and thank you for calling Transcab. Screw you and hope your taxi crashes.

Just kidding. I'm not so angsty.

Anyway, the purpose of the entry today is to highlight an conversation I overheard. I was seated in between two middle-aged women who well, loves talking and unfortunuately loves doing so while being loud.

S (My Indian supervisor): Hey Y, why is the China man downstairs listening to Cantonese songs?

(Coincidentally, one of my favourite songs, Hao Xin Fen Shou, was the song that was playing.)

Y (My Chinese colleague): Yeah, Ah Hong knows how to speak Cantonese mah.

(Ah Hong is the diesel man guy who's in charge of collecting payment for diesel)

Me: ...

S: Huh really ah? How come China people know how to speak Cantonese? I thought they only speak Chinese?

Me: ... ... ...

I swear I felt like taking out my Secondary 3 History textbook, flip to the page - that shows how our forefathers left their family back in China, sailed through the rough oceans with their small little boats, slogged their life away as coolies and eventually creating a Singapore that we know today - and stuff it right at her face.


And I imagined myself rounding up with this statement. "Our forefathers are from China and the dialects we're using in Singapore are all naturally brought over from there!"

But with me being Mr Calm and Collected, I didn't for obvious reasons. You don't mess with your supervisor and get away with it. Besides, I'd rather save my breath for paragraph two. (Scroll up.)

And from my supervisor's ignorance, I saw an uncanny resemblance to myself back when I was completing my 3.1 semester in TP. During Destination Bullshit Class (Or better known as DPD)

I never had an Indian classmate before, despite 6 years in Chongzheng Primary and 4 years in Ngee Ann Secondary and 2 years in Temasek Polytechnic. And thus I didn't have a single friend who's Indian. And as fate has it, I was finally in the same class with not one, but two very nice Indians.


But you know me, I tend to be a little overeager at times and say things that loosely translated, didn't go through my big brain. And so I striked up a conversation with K. The lecturer, Mr Thiru, was talking about some country.

Me: Hey K, so you visit India often? Nice place?

K (with an amused expression): Once. Was having a holiday.

Me(trying to sound matter-of-factly): Huh once only? Don't you have relatives there? I mean with you being Indian and all.

K (with an amused expression and a tinge of irritation): No. I'm Singaporean. My relatives are all here in Singapore.

Me(alarmed): Oh right oh right.

And the conversation ended there. With me overwhelmed with embarassment and shame. Heck, I haven't even been to China before. And my relatives are either in Singapore or Malaysia, that's all. Moral of the story: There's a huge difference between Chinese or Indian national and Chinese or Indian Singaporean.

And we are Singapoooooooooore, Singaporeaaaaaaaaaaaans!