... In a few days we will be leaving Singapore for a 2 week trip to the states. The first week will be our son's wedding and celebration near San Francisco. Then we will hop on a plane to Louisiana to see our house. It will be a very quick and very tiring visit. We will have to hit the states running and I don't see any rest in our plans.
I was walking along the river this morning (looking for my dang dragon still) and I started thinking of how much I have changed in this short time. The biggest change of all, I have realized just how lucky I am to be blessed to have a husband that is able to work a respectable job, is paid well and he has pride in what he does.
Every day, several lorries show up at our condo with dozens of men. These men ride in the back of the lorry randomly stacked in a very precarious manner. I don't know how they do it, but they do it naturally. The drivers fly down the highways at a high rate of speed and these guys seem oblivious to the dangers of their ride. Some ride on plastic lawn chairs with other men sitting all around them at their feet. Steve almost saw one guy fall out of his lawn chair onto the highway. A lorry looks like this:
Remember that number I said on the back means it can hold that many people. This says 13. I promise, more than 13 ride on this vehicle. Every other one is overloaded as well. I will get a picture someday. As it is right now, I never remember to get picture, I just stare in amazement at the pile of them.
Today did get a picture of some men waiting on the moving van - some got out while I was grabbing the camera - but you can get an idea of how these men are transported. :-(
After these men arrive, they spread out throughout the complex and do miscellaneous jobs. There is always one supervisor, invariably wearing black slacks and a white shirt - and of course he is barking orders telling each man what he is to do. I have seen them carrying huge bags of cement on their shoulders the length of a football field. I see them with tiny wire brushes squatting and scrubbing imaginary spots on our concrete. I see them painting the same door, over and over - because the spot their dirty hands left. Not wash it - paint it! They carry slabs of marble 2x2 feet wide to place it in another stack, only to be told to move it again the next day. They sweep the elevators, scrub the planters, sand the wood floor on the 13th floor, over and over - and revarnish.
Daily they scrub the oil spots in the parking garage, they scrub the sidewalks on their knees with handmade brushes. They take the trash bins (18 floors worth of garbage in huge bins) and PUSH them to be picked up by the garbage truck. They take one water hose and water every plant in and around our complex. They clip the grass with small scissors and 'mow' with weed eaters. These men WORK. They take lunch breaks sitting under a tree, eating a sack lunch (literally) with a clear plastic bag (actually looks very close to what our newspapers back home come in when the weather is wet) full of drink. The plastic bag is tied with a string. They untie the string and refill it with water from the water hose.
When the day is done, and the boss finally releases them, someone calls the lorries (or if they are lucky a bus) to come pick them up. We see those men sitting on the sidewalk across the street for hours - waiting on the ride home. Last week Steve and I watched. They are always released around 4:30-5:00pm. At 7:30pm, they were still patiently waiting for their ride - not yet at home with their families. Patiently waiting.
When I first moved here, none would even look me in the eye. I continually gave them a smile, said hi and eventually, one by one, this "tye tye" won them over. They always speak to me now - even in very broken english. They were bleaching the steps one day and I went completely around so I wouldn't disturb them - and they met me at the other side and said, "you walk - ok to walk. We wash again - no problem."
No. Why would I even consider doing that? Do other people not see these men and women are people too? They work harder day in and day out than I ever have. They are away from thier families much too long - and using toothbrushes we probably discarded, to clean tiny imaginary spots only their boss can see. They squat literally hours doing so. They deserve my respect and I can give them a smile and politeness. They owe me nothing - but I think others feel they are beneath them and treat them with no respect. Is it such a difficult thing to smile and be polite to everyone? I am definitely not above them - in fact, I am surely not even close to them in my manner of living. They work, I live in luxury - and anything I would call work, they would call luxury.
I have come to appreciate what we have access to in the states. Easily, we can get in our car and drive to get a loaf of bread. Many here do not even own cars; they own motorcycles (a very lengthy process to obtain a license for and then they must work up in stages for more horsepower), they ride bikes, walk, or depend on the lorries or transit system to get anywhere. 'Expats" rent vehicles. If you own a vehicle, you are taxed heavily for road privileges. I pulled this off the internet. Engine capacity: 3311cc. 6-month road tax for petrol car of equivalent engine capacity: $1,836
Power rating: 268bhp (200kW). 6-month road tax for hybrid RX400h: $2,975 - Can you imagine paying $4000 a year for road privilege taxes in the states?
There are some good things about being here - though they do not over rank being there. The beauty is so different from any I have seen before. Tropical Island paradise I guess. Big city, CLEAN, tropical island paradise. The government takes great stakes in being sure it is decorated quite nicely - including beautiful flowering plants in the center and sides of the highway and on the overpasses.
The people here are genuinely friendly if you approach them for help. They WANT to help. They will never approach you though, even if you look like you need help - it is strictly forbidden by law I have been told. The language barriers could be misinterpreted, so they do not allow it. Another thing I enjoy, if you walk into a store, you are never ignored. You are always thanked for visiting the store. You are made to feel like you matter - even if you didn't buy. That is something we seemed to have lost in the states - loyalty and friendliness to the customer.
Today I had to walk about a mile to the store to get a bowl of spread. I spent my time thinking, (and of course looking for dragons... lol...) of how lucky I will always feel to hop in my car and have the privilege of driving again - and so many other things. Yes, we do have many privileges and I will never again take them for granted, just as I will never take these men and women outside for granted either.
There is no way I can express how many changes I have gone through. You will just have to see and hear. God is good. I needed a reality check. Done - and thankfully in Singapore. He could have put me a place not nearly as nice.
And finally, I am aprehensive of coming home. You may laugh, but once I come home, I am going to remember all the stuff I am missing and it will be harder for me to come back. Is Steve that way? I have no idea. I know coming home is bittersweet. I am very excited to come - yet I fear coming back to Singapore will be even harder to do. Here I can't think about there - it makes me too homesick - I start bawling. I have to just look out the window and keep telling myself this is a chance of a lifetime. It does not make me feel better, but it makes me able to focus on the time ahead - the time we have to deal with being here and count down the days until we can come home. Home is so much more special to us now.
Miss you.
No comments:
Post a Comment