Food Fraud

I was really pissed this afternoon.  Returning to the fair isle of Singapore, around National Day, one might assume that Singaporeans would be filled with nationalistic pride and patriotic ardour to prove their worth and might as a young nation.

One might assume wrong then.

Firstly, let me caveat that I rather like Singapore on good days and constantly conk my head on my keyboard in frustrated amazement on bad. I rather think it is not the geography per say but its people.

One of the first things I heard, on returning to Singapore recently, was a vignette on telly featuring the older Singaporean celebrities waxing nostalgic about their homeland.  I am not sure who it was (might be Brian Richmond) because I heard it rather than saw it - I was listening to the telly as I was working.  This bloke was going on about how wonderful he thought Singapore was but he wished that it had a more gracious society.

That actually caught my attention. 

Because it is true.  We all wish Singapore had a more gracious society, don't we?  I hear that lament all the time.

But no one would claim responsibility for it.  And the definition of "gracious" seems really diverse.

I am no expert but I get the sense the powers that be in Singapore and the wannabes think "gracious" means a higher standard of living with champagne and caviar flowing at F1 events, luxury shopping locations and mega concerts boasting world-class celebrities.

This definition of "graciousness" is an aspiration which seems attached to Singaporeans only.  Because when you ask them what is hampering the advancement of said "graciousness" in their island in the sun, they usually point the fingers at ... The Foreigner.  Typically of the mainland Chinese and Indian ilk.

They blame these foreigners for lowering the tone of the country.  For being mannerless and uncouth.  For a whole range of problems from spitting to standing on the loo to body ordour.  I've heard it all now (I think) such that my eyebrows do not even raise that much anymore in amazement.

Ironically, if you ask foreign workers in Singapore why Singapore is not as gracious a society as it wishes, they will point their fingers at ... The Locals.  All of them.  Regardless of race, language or religion.

Well, in that sense, the national pledge is fulfilled isn't it?

Why?  Because, according to them, Singaporeans are rude and arrogant and have little appreciation for anything, what more people, being more concerned about money.

Hey, as I stated above, I am no expert.  I am just an average Joe with minuscule issues so I relate to the mundane, every day issues of the average resident of Singapore.

So I bring you a case in point. 

I decided I would bake an apple tart today as I have a shitload of apples.  So off I went to my local wet market to buy some cinnamon powder.  Now I know it is not common but there is an Indian spice shop in the wet market which would definitely have it. 

But I decided I would be egalitarian and try one of the Chinese spice shops to avoid accusations of racial profiling.  The Chinese shopkeeper was a middle-aged woman who spoke good English, which was a relief.  After looking around, I asked if they had any cinnamon powder.  She nodded and pointed at a rack.

Now I was getting worried.  I'd looked there but had seen nothing.  Am I getting blind in my old age?  Nope, no cinnamon stick or powder. I asked again and she pointed at a row of dark brown powders in transparent sachets marked with red Chinese characters.

I raised my eyebrow.  "Er, no, that's not cinnamon powder. I think that's five spice powder."

The woman had the gall to tell me it was cinnamon powder.

Look, my Chinese is bad but even I can recognise the word "five" in Chinese.  I sniffed the sachets and pointed at the word "five" and told the lady, "No it's not.  It says there that's it's five spice powder."

Now she looked surprised.  I flushed internally in pride at my level of Chinese proficiency.  Hey, the ads on telly work!  Dian deng jai na li?  I can say that!  Why do I suddenly have that Teresa Teng song in my head?

Anyway, the temerity of the woman grew as she bald-facedly lied to me.  "It's the same."

Excuse me while I conk my forehead on my keyboard.

Ouch.

"Look, lady, five spice is not the same as cinnamon powder and you know that.  One is like, you know, one spice.  The other is like, gee, five?!!!"

At this stage she knew her goose was cooked but she still maintained her belligerent expression and made no apology.  But she had that look in her eye.  The one that said, "Why the hell that one know how to read Chinese, har?"

I walked away before I lost the battle to be snarkier by telling her that even without my outstanding Chinese literacy to recognise the "five" word, I could tell by colour and smell that that was no cinnamon powder.

Why do people always assume I know shit about food?  Because I am skinny?  Hey, that Eurasian dude is a chef on telly and he's skinny too!  

But more importantly, is that the gracious behaviour that Singapore hopes to be known for?

This incident implied so many wrongs that there is no right.  Racial bias because she thought the non-Chinese person would not be able to read Chinese.  Fraud because she tried to peddle the wrong product to someone she thought was the village idiot.  Hey, I graduated from village idiocy night school last year, alright?  

And more importantly, she exhibited that she was raised by wolves and not in a good New Moon-Jacob way, with her inability to acknowledge her duplicity and make the proper amends.  An apology would be nice and admitting that she did not stock the product would have alleviated some of my ire.

Instead, I went to the Indian spice shop huffing and puffing.  As I got my cinnamon powder, I complained loudly and angrily about the Chinese shopkeeper.  Which then led to something ugly.

The Indian lady and I indulged in some racial under-dogging.  We expressed our disgust and ire that the Chinese shopkeeper could be so racially biased and basked atop our moral high horse.  We remarked that the Chinese shopkeepers were only nice and honest with their own kind and minorities could only expect the same from other minorities.

It was only as I was walking home that the shame hit me.  I was no better than that Chinese shopkeeper.  Or the finger pointers.  You wronged me because of you are such and such race and I am the other.

Why are we not a gracious society?  Let's turn the finger the other way.

I apologise.  I suck.  Eggs.  Big time.

I will try to be better and aspire to my own definition of gracious.  It does not lie in the external but the twisted and gnarly internal dialogue and interaction with my own worst enemy, aka me, myself and I.  Only then will it be expressed outwardly in a positive manner and hopefully, three of my grandmother's maxims will prove true. 

Lead by example.

Always treat people as you would wish to be treated.

A person of grace is one who always makes the people around him/ her feel comfortable and at home.

Since Singapore is my home now, I guess I just have to suck it up and accept the bad with the good with graciousness.  

So shuddup internal voice of whining and have some more apple tart of self-reflection.  While standing in a corner.