navel gazing
Back from San Francisco, and then Netherlands-Paris. It's been a short (admittedly un-typical) stint of jet-setting for work this year. And now, firmly grounded, I'm wondering how people can do this continuously as part of their job. Initially, travelling is gleeful fun, but I'm only beginning to realize, in a small way, the sacrifices and constant disruptions inflicted upon me, upon people around me, because of frequent travel. Count how many times I talked to you this year, friends. Take a random sample of how many times I talked to you within any two consecutive months last year, and you'll begin to see what I mean. Having to go thru the hassle of packing up, and then very quickly replacing all of your things in their proper drawers, cupboards, shelves back home aside, there's also the irritating inability to plan for anything in the short term. After some time, even the slight self-important air that one gets from brandishing a full schedule peppered with glitzy trips runs out, and you find yourself alone in an unfamiliar hotel room, with patchy internet connection, grey unwelcoming weather outside and you wonder why on earth you ever coveted a jet-set life.
Like for so many things, the romance of travel far outstrips its realities. Some places you like, some places make you miss home with sickening childishness. And all the time, what occurred repeatedly to me as I was overseas was the concept of 'home'. I think I reflected on this before, a few years back, in response to National Day. And my conclusion then was, for better or for worse, Singapore is my home. Through this season, from place to place, I find myself assessing each city and asking myself, searchingly, can I live here? Can I stay here and make this place as familiar to myself as Singapore is familiar to me? Regardless of whether I want to, is it even possible for me to efface the imprint of the place where I grew up, and adopt another? Understand that this ability would probably differ from person to person, correlated with factors like the ease with which one adapts to change, the ability to shed sentimentality, the degree of one's national pride, etc.
Criss-crossing the continent gives you much time to navel-gaze. And after thinking about it, my answer is probably, scarily, most contradictarily, yes. If I wanted to, I think I could un-Singaporeanize myself. I currently don't want to, but I think if I wanted to, I could. And isn't that scary? Realizing that all that keeps me loyal to my country is my desire to be loyal? Trite, but you know how sometimes you think you're in some way protected from doing horrible things because you don't have the capacity to do them? An argument as weak as they come, I've realized. And one that bears remembering every time I start to get sanctimonious.
Like for so many things, the romance of travel far outstrips its realities. Some places you like, some places make you miss home with sickening childishness. And all the time, what occurred repeatedly to me as I was overseas was the concept of 'home'. I think I reflected on this before, a few years back, in response to National Day. And my conclusion then was, for better or for worse, Singapore is my home. Through this season, from place to place, I find myself assessing each city and asking myself, searchingly, can I live here? Can I stay here and make this place as familiar to myself as Singapore is familiar to me? Regardless of whether I want to, is it even possible for me to efface the imprint of the place where I grew up, and adopt another? Understand that this ability would probably differ from person to person, correlated with factors like the ease with which one adapts to change, the ability to shed sentimentality, the degree of one's national pride, etc.
Criss-crossing the continent gives you much time to navel-gaze. And after thinking about it, my answer is probably, scarily, most contradictarily, yes. If I wanted to, I think I could un-Singaporeanize myself. I currently don't want to, but I think if I wanted to, I could. And isn't that scary? Realizing that all that keeps me loyal to my country is my desire to be loyal? Trite, but you know how sometimes you think you're in some way protected from doing horrible things because you don't have the capacity to do them? An argument as weak as they come, I've realized. And one that bears remembering every time I start to get sanctimonious.