His hair was a closley cropped crew cut, all turned a silvery white. On his left wrist he wore dzi bead and agate bracelet talisman. "Uncle, I want to go to ICA at Lavender," I told him as I pulled close the door of the cab.
"It’s Saturday today, they close early -why you go so late?" he asked. I kept silent sheepishly. Realising he wouldn’t be getting an answer out from me, he decided,"We go by ECP. Geylang there sure jam, you sure late!" I’m usually not one to banter with strangers, but something in his grandfatherly chiding and concern made me feel just that little bit guilty by shutting him out with my iPod. So I mumbled, "No lah, won’t be late, I’m just collecting my passport".
"Be more careful with your passport next time! Newspaper report a few days ago said if you lose your passport more than two times, ICA won’t issue you new one any more! Singapore passport valuable on black market you know!"
Right. Presumably he thinks I’ve lost my passport ! That’s not true; I had run out of pages and was collecting my new biometric passport. (But the bit about it being more difficult to get a passport if you’ve lost it more than twice is not entirely untrue.)
To drive home his point, taxi driver uncle decided that a history lesson was in order. "When the British left, we had to change the British passport for a Singapore passport. I moved house and lost my passport – don’t know where I put it. To this day, whenever I go and renew my passport, they still have record that I had lost that passport !”
I am indeed amazed. The British government ceased to be in Singapore in ‘65. He must have lost his passport for about 40 years now, at a time where there were no computers and it’s still in the records! Then again, he held a passport in a time when not everyone had access to one, and travel was hardly the de rigeur recreational activity as it is today for Singaporeans so it wouldn’t be hard to stand out from the crowd.
As if reading my mind, he added "Last time, no one will think to get passport. British passport also hard to get. I was lucky, a British army officer was a regular customer at my father’s auto shop. He told me it would be a good thing to have a British passport and wrote a letter of recommendation for me. I was 17 then. It never occured to me that with that passport, I could migrate to England or Australia.” “So you never thought of leaving?” I asked. “No lah… in those days, the Japanese came and left, the British came and left but my father’s house still standing…who will think about looking for opportunities overseas ? You just make the most of what you have, improve your life day to day!” He chuckled and added, “But different for you young people now huh? Everyone wants to migrate...you...."
“So uncle," I quickly interjected,trying to shield myself from any prying personal questions, "how come they still keep a record of the first time you lost your passport?” “Later. After I grew up, then I thought about seeking opportunities overseas lah. I went to Thailand a lot, go in and out to do business. But tiring. Seeking opportunities not easy,” he glanced at the clock on his dashboard, “11.48am, think you can make it, won’t be late. Last time, I go make and collect my passport at Joo Chiat there, wait very long, very crowded. Last time don’t have computer yet”.
Wow. That’s another history lesson for me today. Was there an Immigration office in Joo Chiat before? I recall vaguely a building near my primary school (which was in the area) that used to have long queues of people waiting in line. Adults then told me that the people waiting in line, were mostly waiting to get their approvals to start work on the construction sites.
Uncle delivered me safe and sound to the doorsteps of ICA. The meter read $9.60. I handed him a ten and he fumbled for some change in this plastic box he had next to him. “Uncle, never mind, keep the change,” I offered. “No, no….wait..” he countered. “Never mind uncle, or else I will really be late! Bye bye!” I smiled and hopped out of the cab.
I sailed through the doors of ICA at 11.52am, easily found my way to the floor for passport collection and was given a queue number quickly and efficiently. 5961 was boldly printed on the slip. I took a closer look at the fine print. It read, “There are 402 persons in the queue before you.”
In the time I waited for the 402 people before me to be attended to, I had plenty of time to reflect on my conversation with the taxi driver. A phrase kept repeating itself in my head. Perhaps what keeps people from exploring opportunities outside of their comfort zone then is the lack of information. Not being able to know what is better out there – most people would prefer to improve on what they know or can see. These days, the advent of mass travel and the internet have indeed made the world smaller, we know a lot more about what is out there now. So we try out the opportunities available to us till we find one that fits.
Like trying on new shoes for comfort and a style that’s all our own.
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