who you are.

i live with five other people. two italians, three thai people and me, a singaporean. between the six of us you have a good mix of the european, the asian, and the half-and-half.

it's funny how i become more aware of who i am only when i'm out here in the racial tropical jungle, where races and variations and walking styles are diverse. more distinctively aware of who i am and later, on a more under-the-radar level, what i represent.

people recognise me as a singaporean because of my speech and i was always surprised when people correctly tell me so. they don't ask me, they tell me.


i've always thought i had a pretty international accent. and i did. i had it on good authorities (note the plurality) that i speak well, but strangely have an unplaceable accent. that of course, pleased me no end. you can tell that i've a desire to be special.

when i got to australia however, i realised that the more international i get, the more singaporean i became. it was somewhat of a shock to me - nothing against singaporeans; i love singapore, that's why i became a PR then a citizen - that holy schmoly i carry singapore in me. it shines like a beacon every time i speak.



right now i can't really understand how people acquire accents just by being in that country for say, two months. the accent must've been as infectious as an STD.

but i digress. the question is: who are you? do you know you? i thought i knew me, but i didn't. not really, till i came to australia. there's a lot to be said about people who go overseas - and no wonder they are more attractive! their eyes are wider and they've seen - known and understood - more.

they know how little they know, and they thus understand humility.

small-town people often don't. and won't. and that's what and who they are.