Maybe a little over a year; I stayed in the middle of the city. I lived in an old apartment, without air conditioning. With no hot water for my shower, and yet close to some of the most expensive land in Singapore. With stray cats climbing into my apartment, and luxury dogs taking their evening strolls along the river side. In the midst of a complete disparity of wealth.
It really felt like a fever dream. When I travel into the city, and the buses go past cafes, bars, hotels, and offices, I just remember the afternoons strolling through. I remember walking home to clear my mind, and enjoying the views of the city.
I don’t think I understood what the wealth gap really meant until I stayed in Jalan Minyak, and I don’t think many people will ever have a chance of understanding it properly. It’s not just about helping out on the weekends, or donating to the cause. It’s about a systemic issue of privilege, and the desperation of those who have not. It’s about heritage, both for and against.
I’m not either, I’m the big grey tasteless middle in the steak of capitalist Singapore. I’m the middle class, who can’t afford to be poor, and also can’t afford to be rich.
So I reminiscence the years when I was able to see both at the same time. Wood fired pizza for dinner one night, and charity donated canned foods the next.
Now, we’re making do with 菜贩, (small dishes with white rice) middle Singapore’s standard meal. Having Prata breakfast, at coffee shops below our apartment housing.
I still miss living in the middle of the city.