Question of identity...

Somehow, no matter where I go, the question of what it means to be Singaporean will inevitably come up.

First time this week was at work... Boss held a meeting about house design in singapore. What happened was a rollar coaster of topics and barrage of arguments from all sides. Before long the question arose, what is the Singaporean heritage and what about it are we hoping to evoke in house design? This then became a question of what is it to be singaporean.

Yesterday, I had dinner with some of my choir friends. Surprisingly the question came up again. Who are we? What is our identity, what does it mean to be singaporean?

And then at night while driving around with a friend, the same questions again! Why are singaporeans so insecure of, so embarrased by and so unsure of their past, their heritage, their roots.

Are we all so superficial.... is our past like the fake american accents of some tv comperes, paper thin?

These are such rhetorical questions. The deeper you dig the more confused/alarmed/jaded you become. For a nation searching for something more substantial in our everyday lives (what are we slogging so hard for?) we really aren't getting many answers.

One thing that baffles me still is that somehow the whole thing works. don't ask me how... coz the size of the houses and the shine of the new cars are answers enough.

For those not so blessed who have to chase the dollar, they don't really have time to sit back and think about it. For the rest of us who are able to take time out to do some soul-searching (key word being searching), we're probably gonna have to keep on looking.