Troublemaker

I’m a troublemaker. A bit of a shit-stirrer. The thing is I can’t stand the status quo if it’s obviously status no-go. If something’s broke, I feel compelled, driven, to fix it. Even if I can’t. If I see a cyclist going against traffic, I need to tell him. If a client is going to do something silly and waste money, even if the money is going straight into my pocket, I feel compelled to help them find a better way - even if no money comes into my pocket.

I just can’t stand things that don’t work the way they should.

This has gotten me into trouble before and doubtless will continue to do so. There are times, after all, when I butt my head against a system that is just too big, too arrogant or proud to accept criticism.
I’ve locked horns with one such system recently. No less than Singapore’s Immigration and Checkpoints Authority.

As my Mum continues her battle with Dementia and Parkinson’s, I swapped Chinese New Year holidays with my ex-wife (we alternate Christmasses and Chinese New Years so the kids have a chance to be with both families) and Mei and I brought the kids up to PJ for the recent festivities. After all the bereavements and grieving of the last year, my family decided to host the annual Cheong gathering, and to even include my mother’s side, the Wongs, too. It was promising to be fun and everyone was going to turn up.

Well, it didn’t get off to a good start - we were stuck in an almighty jam on the Singapore side at Tuas. It took us 2 hours to get through and in comparison, the Johor side was a breeze - mere minutes. The thing is, the system on the Singapore side is poorly designed, with bottlenecks and time-consuming processes making things unnecessarily slow and cumbersome.

One check they do perplexed me - after the immigration booths, you have to go through a security check where the driver has to get out and open the car boot. The security officers hardly glance in before waving you on. What are they looking for? And what a waste of time. It doesn’t help that the officers move with the languid slowness of sloths more resembling a disinterested zoo animal inclining a nostril at a proffered tidbit than the sharp and vigilant officers the ads make them out to be.

As if the long jam on the way up was not bad enough, when we returned after a fabulous few days, we ended up waiting 3 hours on the Singapore side. At one point, we were stationary on the bridge for 45 excruciating, annoying, frustrating, vexing minutes. The arrogant and sullen manner of officers at the checkpoint didn’t help at all.

We weren’t alone of course and I wasn’t surprised to read a letter in the Singapore Straits Times a few days later.

Well, I added to it in my own faecal-agitatory manner. I wrote in to the Forum page, detailing a list of ills and recommending some fixes. I got a little bashing in the online forums by blinkered Singaporeans presumptuously baying for protectionist policies - ‘who ask you to go to Malaysia to fill petrol?’ and so on. But I also got a lot of support from people who agreed with my list of ills too. Most gratifying.
The Immigration authority replied in their usual high-handed manner and rightly got slammed in the online forums.

I wouldn’t let the matter rest of course and replied, expressing disappointment that they had completely ignored my suggestions, repeated those suggestions and for good measure, added a couple more.

Despite waiting weeks, we heard not a peep from them.

Imagine then my surprise when I headed up to PJ a couple of weeks back, rolled up at the Immigration booth and was greeted by a smiling Immigration Officer ‘Good Morning!’ I was shocked into momentary silence. Now don’t get me wrong - I’m usually extremely polite, even jovial, with service people. The ICA, however, had always dampened my enthusiasm, so after years of getting surliness in response to sunniness, I’d simply given up. This officer’s greeting stumped me and it was all I could to to mumble a reply.

As I drive towards the security check area, ready to get out, open my boot, and so on, what do I see? No queue of cars. In fact, I didn’t even have to get out - an officer reached out for that slip of paper which tells them how many passports were handled by the officer in the booth, and again, smiled and called out ‘Good Morning’ then ‘Thank you sir’.

The aliens can’t possibly have landed and taken over the bodies of these - until then - Sultans of Surl, so what was going on?

And then it slowly dawned on me - the ICA had had a bit of a shakeup! Yes, that proud, arrogant, ‘We can do no wrong’ blue-garbed band of uhm… officers (hey, the alliteration would have been nice, but a bit harsh) had changed their disposition. And their system!

And I had caused it!

I. Me. Small, insignificant gnat in a grey authoritarian system. Saya. Had made change happen in that monolithic, humourless, authority that is the Immigration and Checkpoints Authority of Singapore.
Wow… Damn, it feels good!

Hmmm… what next now? The Land Transport Authority looks like it needs a bit of a shakeup too… heh heh