My experience returning home temporarily made my experiences in Birmingham felt like it was a distant memory - like it was a dream that was quickly fading away. Singapore has its ways of reeling me back into its fast-paced dominant lifestyle I've come to know. Nonetheless, Singapore will always be home and I was happy to return to familiarity despite my criticism over some aspects of it. Its terribly poor work-life balance, its pace which has inadvertently defined the norms of "success" and "productivity" and hence causing me to be very impatient and discontented when I experience the UK system and its flaws (read: inefficiency), the vicious cycle of work and subsequent hyper consumerism to appease ourselves, as well as the restriction of expression of dissent and alternative voices in public and political spheres.
While Singapore was familiar, it was not entirely familiar anymore after I've been given a fresh pair of lenses to see what could have added more meaning and value to life. I'm really thankful to be given a peek into an alternative lifestyle and mode of being while I was living in Birmingham. Life was so much simpler, and that simple life made me deeply contented despite the bouts of struggles encountering loneliness, isolation and disconnection from time to time. It is through the stint of 6 weeks spent in Singapore that I realised something in me has shifted significantly. I was trying to fit these fresh perspectives I acquired from staying in the UK, into what I was experiencing again back at home in Singapore.
When Aishah asked me how it feels to be leaving Singapore again to get married and eventually settle in London, I told her that it felt fine to me. During the day of my departure, I had expected it to be an impressionable one, but it wasn't. It was very much a quiet one, like I was slipping away from Singapore on an unassuming Monday morning when everyone else went on with their usual routine of rushing to work. It didn't feel like I was leaving anything much behind knowing that I would return again soon. Initially I thought it was going to feel odd leaving Singapore for the first time not having any of my family members at the airport bidding me goodbye, but instead me flying to them. My family took the earlier flight at midnight and my youngest sister was already in London. But like I told Aishah, it is like flying from one home to another - because my family and husband-to-be is in London already. I also thought that the flight was supposedly life-changing given that I was flying as a single woman. But I guess that woman is still very much the same. After all, it is just the flight that crosses continents and timezones, while its passengers still come out the same (except maybe with bad hijab and eyes filled with boogey for me). The same way the recitation of the nikah doesn't arbitrarily demarcate the woman I was before and the woman I am after reciting it. This made me feel that it is okay that the departure did not feel like it was an impressionable one. I'm still the same woman, except with a new chapter in life to embark and a new route to take.
It almost feels like this departure is representative of the other journeys I tend to take on my own, carving my own path to where I would like to be. The truth is, yes, many of the journeys we undertake have to be done alone. Choosing that big major in University, even choosing the modules I prefer over taking the ones with friends. Deciding to undertake higher education at the age of 29 while not knowing anyone in Birmingham and not 100% clear what this would mean for future career prospects. Choosing to travel on my own a few times. And of course, starting anew in a city from scratch without having any family members, friends or community with the exception of my husband and his family.
Now that I have come to London and have been married for a couple of weeks now, I think it's worthy to revisit these shifting notions of familiarity and home. How do I accommodate new perspectives into the old mould, how often do I entertain these debates, contestations and negotiations of these two differing systems I come to know and how do I refine my ways of thinking and living? I'm still learning about London, and I hope to share in the future posts my reflections on this diverse city. Is London going to feel home for me in the next few months or even years? I will let myself uncover these questions.
While Singapore was familiar, it was not entirely familiar anymore after I've been given a fresh pair of lenses to see what could have added more meaning and value to life. I'm really thankful to be given a peek into an alternative lifestyle and mode of being while I was living in Birmingham. Life was so much simpler, and that simple life made me deeply contented despite the bouts of struggles encountering loneliness, isolation and disconnection from time to time. It is through the stint of 6 weeks spent in Singapore that I realised something in me has shifted significantly. I was trying to fit these fresh perspectives I acquired from staying in the UK, into what I was experiencing again back at home in Singapore.
When Aishah asked me how it feels to be leaving Singapore again to get married and eventually settle in London, I told her that it felt fine to me. During the day of my departure, I had expected it to be an impressionable one, but it wasn't. It was very much a quiet one, like I was slipping away from Singapore on an unassuming Monday morning when everyone else went on with their usual routine of rushing to work. It didn't feel like I was leaving anything much behind knowing that I would return again soon. Initially I thought it was going to feel odd leaving Singapore for the first time not having any of my family members at the airport bidding me goodbye, but instead me flying to them. My family took the earlier flight at midnight and my youngest sister was already in London. But like I told Aishah, it is like flying from one home to another - because my family and husband-to-be is in London already. I also thought that the flight was supposedly life-changing given that I was flying as a single woman. But I guess that woman is still very much the same. After all, it is just the flight that crosses continents and timezones, while its passengers still come out the same (except maybe with bad hijab and eyes filled with boogey for me). The same way the recitation of the nikah doesn't arbitrarily demarcate the woman I was before and the woman I am after reciting it. This made me feel that it is okay that the departure did not feel like it was an impressionable one. I'm still the same woman, except with a new chapter in life to embark and a new route to take.
It almost feels like this departure is representative of the other journeys I tend to take on my own, carving my own path to where I would like to be. The truth is, yes, many of the journeys we undertake have to be done alone. Choosing that big major in University, even choosing the modules I prefer over taking the ones with friends. Deciding to undertake higher education at the age of 29 while not knowing anyone in Birmingham and not 100% clear what this would mean for future career prospects. Choosing to travel on my own a few times. And of course, starting anew in a city from scratch without having any family members, friends or community with the exception of my husband and his family.
Now that I have come to London and have been married for a couple of weeks now, I think it's worthy to revisit these shifting notions of familiarity and home. How do I accommodate new perspectives into the old mould, how often do I entertain these debates, contestations and negotiations of these two differing systems I come to know and how do I refine my ways of thinking and living? I'm still learning about London, and I hope to share in the future posts my reflections on this diverse city. Is London going to feel home for me in the next few months or even years? I will let myself uncover these questions.
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