Singapore Tales: Automation and the Man

My first blog post, and a kvetch against the aspect of Singapore I find most repugnant.....

Granted, I was highly impressed with the wide, clean roads and the super-efficient MRT system(remember, this is a republic just over half the size of Chennai), and.....wait... that's it??? The people are nauseatingly well-dressed(dressy, more like it). Did I stand out like a sore thumb? Not quite. I like to believe I am decently well-dressed too. Do I care? Not a whit. In fact, this can only mean they are rolling in the green stuff, and consequently, prices are going to be necessarily...punishing! Yikes! And so they are. Am I justified in interconversion between SGDs and INRs? Do I even have to answer that? When even the cheapest means of transport, the bus, charges a minimum of 70cents(~20.1 Rs, for the record), as against, what, 1.25Rs in Madras....

On my very first day, nursing a sore shoulder after lugging around my luggage on trains, buses, taxis, determined not to fall prey to the easy temptation of the frequent taxi, I had to transfer to a certain hostel(termed "hall of residence" in true officious style) on the NTU campus, and decided to hail a taxi. To my horror, it turned out to be a couple of hundred meters distant, and I watched sadly as $2.5 left my pocket-book lighter. Yes, the flagging fare in taxis is $2.40. They are air-conditioned, if that is any measure of consolation. I realized that despite the complicated layout of the campus, it was really quite small, and those sturdy legs would prove invaluable in the next 2 months.

To get to the subject of the post: on the train from Changi, I made an all-important discovery. Most people in Singapore are deaf. On close observation, about 80% of the passengers had the hands-free earphones glued to their ears, and the rest, mostly kids, each with a cellular plaything apiece, mind you, nevertheless, had music to regale them for the space of mmmm....2 minutes!, which is how long the train takes to travel from one station to the next. At the next station....recorded message"Keep away from the doors...mind the gap...et al"...stream of junta exit, another enters... an ominous warning "Doors are closing" and a furious buzz....and on cue, all hands rise to the ears. Quite fascinating, really. Even the most doddering old crone conformed to the ritual. Directions had to wait.

Rush hour snapshot...at the station....crowds flow in, flash a card at an identification screen(the entire island is networked to identify these multipurpose cards everywhere...buses, trains, shops), and without missing a beat, board, enter, isolate, exit.... What was especially creepy was watching kids brandishing these cards expertly at every post. I meanwhile fumbled at a couple of screens before understanding where to point the card exactly, feeling the impatient stares of a hundred people burning my back.

Why, even the buses have television sets, so all you can hear is that sound. It is positively disquieting(!). Ah! For some gossipy chatter, some noisy altercations, some adroit boarding-unboarding strategies...