A land of queue jumpers.

Singapore is a land that has both many queues, and quite a few queue jumpers. Contrary to its international reputation for being law-abiding, I have often found that some Singaporeans ignore social rules, for selfish momentary gain. They think, in short, of nothing and no-one but themselves.

Yesterday, I was returning books to the library. I had about eight on me. In front of me there was a queue consisting of two groups of people, who waited one behind the other, to put their books in the return slot, at the library. (For those who don't know, this is an automated check in system, in which placing the book in the letter box like slot, automatically checks it in as "returned" in the computer system).

The first group had quite a few books, since they seemed to be returning books for several people, but I waited patiently, unable to see which books they had taken out. The second group had a man in it, who, oddly, had two female romance novels in his hand. He was Indian, of about fifty, with balding hair. Perhaps, however, he had a romantic heart - unless he was returning them for another. Yet, he was not wearing a ring. He held the books in his hand, a little jumpily: they jostled up and down, nervously, in his fingers and I felt, perhaps, that he was uncomfortable to be seen holding them.

At last he sidled away, leaving me to return my books. I began to do so, opening each one to check that nothing had been left between the pages. One book...in: light flashed. Two books: light flashed...flash...flash. I had returned four books, leaving four unreturned when a Chinese woman as old as the other man, perhaps five years older, appeared to my right hand side. She was readying two books in her hand and was moving them towards the chute, despite the fact that I had not yet finished.

I stared her in the eye and shook my head vigorously from side to side, to indicate that she was NOT to return her books, until I had finished.

She ignored me. Her hands leapt forward, then, at once, in a sudden motion and dropped the books in.

I was disgusted at her.

"What makes you think you can jump the queue?" I asked, looking down on her in more ways than my height invoked. Such people never reached the height of others, in moral terms.

"It is just two!", she defended before scuttling off like a cockroach that had been surprised in the kitchen, mid-feast.

"Stupid person!", I said, reflexively, as she departed. I hope she heard me...but doubt that she did.

So often, in Singapore, has this kind of scene played itself out, for me. So often have locals jumped the queue, to save themselves a few seconds - and to offend all who had patiently waited.

There is more to being a law-abiding society than obeying the laws that the police enforce (but often don't...but more of that in another post). There are also the social rules that should not be broken. In my eyes, the social rules are just as important - for they are what prevents society from degenerating into disruptive anarchy.

People like that woman go through their lives, cheating at every turn, putting themselves before all others and justifying it with such statements as "It is just two!" In other words, they believe that what they do is so minor as to be of no consequence: it is not. It is just not true. What they do disrupts the order of society, causes irritation and offence - and punishes everyone else for obeying the social rules out of consideration for everyone else.

There is, unfortunately, only one way the typical Singaporean queue jumper would stop jumping queues - and that is if it became genuinely illegal to do so, punishable by large fines, at the least. Then, we would see, an advent of order in the land's queues.

I had long wondered at why there are security cameras on the return books letter boxes. Now I think I know why: it is, perhaps, to monitor any fights that break out in the queues, over whom should put their books in next. You see, in many countries, queue jumping quite quickly leads to altercations. Perhaps, at times, it does in Singapore, too.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged eight years and seven months, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, five years exactly, and Tiarnan, twenty-eight months, please go to:http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html I also write of gifted education, IQ, intelligence, the Irish, the Malays, Singapore, College, University, Chemistry, Science, genetics, left-handedness, precocity, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, wunderkind, wonderkind, genio, гений ребенок prodigy, genie, μεγαλοφυία θαύμα παιδιών, bambino, kind.

We are the founders of Genghis Can, a copywriting, editing and proofreading agency, that handles all kinds of work, including technical and scientific material. If you need such services, or know someone who does, please go to: http://www.genghiscan.com/ Thanks.IMDB is the Internet Movie Database for film and tv professionals.

If you would like to look at my IMDb listing for which another fifteen credits are to be uploaded, (which will probably take several months before they are accepted) please go to: http://www.imdb.com/name/nm3438598/ As I write, the listing is new and brief - however, by the time you read this it might have a dozen or a score of credits...so please do take a look. My son, Ainan Celeste Cawley, also has an IMDb listing. His is found at: http://www.imdb.com/name/nm3305973/ My wife, Syahidah Osman Cawley, has a listing as well. Hers is found at: http://www.imdb.com/name/nm3463926/

This blog is copyright Valentine Cawley. Unauthorized duplication prohibited. Use Only with Permission. Thank you.)

Why does no-one speak out?

Today, I went to the post office and learnt something more of the nature of the Singaporean people.



The post office is just like Singaporean banks: prone to long queues and slow service. Today, however, the post office staff excelled themselves. They seemed to be competing with each other to do as little as possible to while away the hours - and get paid for their time. I only wish they were actually paid for what they do.



When I arrived at Killiney post office this afternoon at 4.40 pm, there were five post office staff present. That seems a reasonable number. Oddly, however, only one of them seemed to be attending to customers. The others had adopted various postures of idleness. There were two people sat behind the counter - one serving, the other hiding behind a sign that said their position was closed.



The queue wasn't a long one but it was a very, very slow one. There were only about four people ahead of me in the queue - but it was a full twenty to twenty five minutes before I got to the front of the queue. That is far too slow, for so few people waiting.



As I waited, gradually more stations were opened. First two, then finally three. (That still left two staff doing apparently nothing, of course).



However, this did not seem to speed matters up particularly. I waited at the front of the queue for a good five minutes before something both bizarre and unwelcome occurred.



A very large woman (larger than me) wearing bright yellow, one or two places from the back of the queue, gestured to one of the post office staff with two objects in her hands. He was the man at the "Speedpost" counter. (I know it is a funny name for such a slow postal service!) He had been serving general customers as well as "Speedpost" customers. He looked at what was in her hands and gestured that she should come over to him.



I was shocked. I had been waiting in the queue for far too long - and so had everyone else - yet this woman from the back of the queue was being gestured to come forward to be served immediately.



He attended to the objects she held. Then she presented him with a huge pile of bills that I had not previously seen. (Bills can be paid at Singaporean post offices). She proceeded to pay each bill, one at a time.



I looked at this scene in amazement. Others too had seen her jump the queue and get served without having to wait like everyone else. However, I was particularly irked since she had taken what should have been my place.



What I was more amazed by was everyone else's reaction. Though what this large, yellow lady had done was unjust to all who had waited for perhaps 20 to 30 minutes in the queue, no-one, absolutely no-one said anything. They all accepted this injustice in silence.



I saw in their silence a more general tendency not to speak out. A nation of people who won't speak out on the little things, won't speak out on the big things, either. Here was a nation of people that anyone, absolutely anyone, with a bit of nerve, could treat unjustly - and no-one would say a word. They would accept the unjust circumstance, rather like they accept the rain - as if it is something about which they can do nothing.



As I watched their communal silence, and their evident communal awareness that someone wasn't playing fair, I grew ever more perturbed. There was something unnatural in the way they accepted her selfish action, without comment. The natural response of most people would be to complain to the woman or the staff member who had served her. Such a response would be prompted by emotions innate to all humans, everywhere. Yet, those emotional responses were either absent from, or not expressed by, these Singaporeans. I wondered, then, what had been done to these people to make them so suppress their natural response to injustice. It seemed as if they had deeply imbibed the lesson that silence must be maintained in the face of all that is wrong with the world. It was most odd.

Finally a counter became free and I was served. It took no more than 45 seconds to attend to my simple task - though I had waited at least half an hour to be attended to.

As I was leaving, I approached the staff member who was still busily serving the queue jumper.

"Why did you let her jump the queue?" I asked him, in a voice loud enough to be heard by all in the room, but not so loud as to be unrestrained.

He stared up at me in silence.

"Don't you know it is bad manners?", I continued.

His silence remained unbroken.

"It shouldn't be allowed. It is unfair on everyone else."

His grey hair framed his uncommunicative face, but he refrained from speech.

Interestingly, the woman who had queue jumped said nothing either. Surely, she knew that what she had done was wrong.

Somewhat depressingly, the whole queue of customers looked on, in silence. Not one person took the chance to join in, in support. Not one person joined me in voicing a complaint. What is the point of standing up for a people who will not stand up for themselves? It is a thankless task. These people didn't even speak up for themselves when someone else had stepped forward to do so (providing them an example) - not even that could prompt them to speak.

The funny thing is, from the way they maintained their silence when I spoke out, it was almost as if I, too, was breaking a social rule when I complained - the one that said: "Don't speak out, no matter what!"

I left Killiney post office with a much lower opinion of its staff - and a better understanding of the Singaporean people.

It is clear that something in the culture here denies the natural responses of all humans to react to injustice - on both an emotional and intellectual level. The natural emotional expressiveness common to all humans, is stifled here.

In the western countries I have lived in, I would have expected the customers in the queue to berate the woman for jumping the queue, at the very least. It is likely that an arguement would have ensued. In some countries, it is even possible that that arguement may have become physical. I would also have thought that the staff member would have scolded her and sent her back to the queue. This would have been a typical outcome for her attempt to jump a half hour queue, at the expense of everyone else. However, nothing happened apart from a sullen silence from all who were present.

I would welcome comments from Singaporeans themselves as to what urges them to silence in situations when people from virtually everywhere else in the world, would speak out. I am sure a lot of people would be interested to know.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged eight years and one month, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, four years and seven months, and Tiarnan, two years exactly, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html I also write of gifted education, IQ, intelligence, the Irish, the Malays, Singapore, College, University, Chemistry, Science, genetics, left-handedness, precocity, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, gifted adults and gifted children in general. Thanks.)