Ok, this living in too many different parts of the world thing is starting to really annoy me.
I walked in to the hospital yesterday to get my medical exam done for the visa application. The lady who was helping me get registered asked for my passport instead of my IC (Singaporean Identification Card). She apologised when I asked if it was ok to use my IC instead because apparently I didn't look like a Singapore citizen?
With all this paperwork that has to be done and all the running around to different places to get official documents, more than once I got a weird look because I had to apologise that I didn't know my cell-phone number.
At one point, the lady at the bank thought I was nuts for not having a cell-phone number that didn't belong to my family. The number I finally gave her after fumbling around for a long time was already in their system--under my sister's name.
When I was applying for my ATM card, the lady thought I was nuts because I didn't know that ATM cards here don't expire, so the one I had applied for when I was 16 is still valid--and shredded in some incinerator somewhere in Indiana.
Then when I couldn't remember how I used to sign my name at the bank 7 years ago, I had to apologise that I haven't used that bank account in 7 years.
Or the fact that I'm suddenly very aware of the amount of diversity we have on our little island. The radiographer that did my x-ray yesterday was Filipino. The receptionists were Thai. The lady that did my blood-work today was Indian.
These things used to be normal. But the Singaporean in me is still 18 years-old, doesn't know how the banks work, and stuck in 2004.
Instead, my "normal" is catching people by surprise.
The lady who did my blood-work was super impressed that I managed to get a job working in a church in New Zealand.
And then having to explain that not all church people are humble are easy to work with.
And cringing when I hear the word "back-sliding" used on people who haven't gone to church for a while.
And explaining post-Christian Europe to non-church friends.
Sigh.
I walked in to the hospital yesterday to get my medical exam done for the visa application. The lady who was helping me get registered asked for my passport instead of my IC (Singaporean Identification Card). She apologised when I asked if it was ok to use my IC instead because apparently I didn't look like a Singapore citizen?
With all this paperwork that has to be done and all the running around to different places to get official documents, more than once I got a weird look because I had to apologise that I didn't know my cell-phone number.
At one point, the lady at the bank thought I was nuts for not having a cell-phone number that didn't belong to my family. The number I finally gave her after fumbling around for a long time was already in their system--under my sister's name.
When I was applying for my ATM card, the lady thought I was nuts because I didn't know that ATM cards here don't expire, so the one I had applied for when I was 16 is still valid--and shredded in some incinerator somewhere in Indiana.
Then when I couldn't remember how I used to sign my name at the bank 7 years ago, I had to apologise that I haven't used that bank account in 7 years.
Or the fact that I'm suddenly very aware of the amount of diversity we have on our little island. The radiographer that did my x-ray yesterday was Filipino. The receptionists were Thai. The lady that did my blood-work today was Indian.
These things used to be normal. But the Singaporean in me is still 18 years-old, doesn't know how the banks work, and stuck in 2004.
Instead, my "normal" is catching people by surprise.
The lady who did my blood-work was super impressed that I managed to get a job working in a church in New Zealand.
And then having to explain that not all church people are humble are easy to work with.
And cringing when I hear the word "back-sliding" used on people who haven't gone to church for a while.
And explaining post-Christian Europe to non-church friends.
Sigh.
No comments:
Post a Comment