Zing, zing, Zingapore

Having progressed from a sleepy fishing village in the 18th century to a first world city state in the 21st century, Singapore seems to have acquired everything that makes up a great place to live in. Everything, the writer observes, except zing......

Don't get me wrong. I luuurve Singapore. I'm a great fan of her sunny weather, cheap food and clean buses. Besides, having grown up and lived here almost all my life, there isn't any other place to boast about really. The other day, however, I was just having lunch the other day with some expat friends of mine who had been living in this country for awhile and they were comparing notes on their experiences thus far. After heaping generous praises on our airport in Changi and the ubiquitous Singapore Airlines, they began to complain about their shopping experiences on the island.

There was hardly any complaint which I could not identify with: grouchy salespersons, rude and impatient taxi-drivers and air pollution caused by neverending contruction works along Orchard Road.

But beneath it all - there was something more. These women simply did not enjoy shopping in Singapore. Despite our huge, expensive-looking shopping centres, sparkling clean floors and lower-than-average retail prices, these ladies - if given the choice - would gladly part with their dollar elsewhere. Why?

Every major happening city in the world has one common feature: vast, car-free, pedestrian-friendly shopping areas bustling with people, energy and excitement. London has her Covent Garden, Tokyo her Takeshita-dori, Seoul has Insadong, Osaka has Shinsaibashi-suji and even tiny Cambridge has her own Market Square and assorted backstreets and alleys. But what does Singapore have? Let's see...apart from isolated pockets of nightlife here and there which switch on only after dark, there is Orchard Road which is always polluted and filled with more cars than pedestrians, Suntec City which is set in the middle of nowhere and.....oh, did I mention the HDB Heartlands where everything is symmetrical and every building looks exactly the same?

When you step into a city like New York or Hong Kong, there is one thing that hits you rightaway like a good slap: the effervescence of the place. Wall street wizards, movie stars and fashion designers happily co-exist in a resonating matrix of energy and vibes which altogether makes up the charater that is New York or Hong Kong. When you walk down any dedicated shopping street in Tokyo, Osaka or Kobe, there is no car to distract you, no pollution to choke you and no snappish salesman to throw you off your feet. Every corner you turn in Seoul, London or Paris bustles with music and creativity; beyond the standard giant department stores, quaint little shops no taller than a double-decker bus greet you with flowers and pretty waitresses, sometimes providing the perfect backdrop for buskers to strut their stuff and do their thing.

All these things spell c-h-a-r-a-c-t-e-r and z-i-n-g, two words which have yet to describe the city state that is Singapore. Perhaps it's the stiff education system that has discouraged our young from being experimental and creative; perhaps it's the bureaucratic red tape that has prevented entrepreneurial businessmen from trying out new things; perhaps it's the kiasu mentality that has molded our people into a nation of taskmasters as opposed to trendsetters; or perhaps it's simply the austere folks in the town planning department who decided to spread everyone out on the map of Singapore like logical pieces on a chess board: academics to the west, legal and corporate experts to the south, beach-loving yuppies to the east, poor heartlanders to the far east and north, and everything else in the middle - massive blocks of concrete shopping centres surrounded by major roads, embassies and various large estates owned by the rich, the foreign expatriates and of course, the government (where else in the world can you find such a humongous park like the Istana smack in the middle of the shopping district, but open to the public only five times a year?).

It is ironic - almost obscene - that while car-ownership is so expensive and difficult in Singapore, the best places to shop, dine or hang out here are designed to be more car-friendly than pedestrian-friendly. Think Holland Village, think East Coast Park, think Botanical Gardens. In cities like London or Tokyo, you would find a subway station at every place of interest and driving is a nightmare because the buildings go on forever and ever and you can hardly see the end of the street. Here, it is just the opposite - as a driver you virtually own the road because everyone else is too poor to afford a car and if you can afford one, then you probably live in one of the many large quiet houses, embassies or condominiums located not 15, 20 or 30 minutes away from Orchard Road, but right along the perimeter of this tightly-bound shopping street.

Is it any surprise, then, that the shopping experience in Singapore has failed to become multi-dimensional, like her own streets? It is one thing to be a city filled with buildings and roads; it is another to be one filled with zing and character.

Like this article? Any comments to add? Want to offer me a writing job? *snigger*
Email the writer at bluepooch77@yahoo.com.sg!