Happy birthday to Yew, happy birthday to Yew…

…happy birthday dear Singapore…

Singapore turned 44 today, and we all turned out for the celebrations. Nothing much was to happen before 6 pm, yet at 3 already the caravans with construction workers were driving past banging drums and streams of red-clad families flooded into the city centre. Follow the crowd, follow the crowd.

Police were everywhere. I still find it unsettling to see small flocks of young men with big guns, yet at the same time the thought occurs to me that this would be the perfect opportunity, the perfect venue to plan something requiring maximum numbers of targets. But Singapore’s brave police and army auxiliary forces were doing their valiant job of protecting us. It was easy to be swept along in the rush of strollers and flag waving and patriotic accoutrements. Red, red, red, with soldiers directing us to the security checkpoints.

We fond a corner on the Esplanade next to a white guy, who turned out to be a freshly minted political science professor here for a conference. We got acquainted, we talked and laughed with the little malay kids, we hung out. And we waited, and waited and waited. Those few and lucky individuals with a ticket to the parade, I am sure, had something to look at, but the rest of us faced hours of waiting.

Eventually the parachuters spiraled lazily down from somewhere up above, heading for the stadium and the parade. They were eventually followed by the “anti-terrorist” display, which was mostly a low-budget James Bond-style jet ski-chase scene involving several Navy boats emitting sparks. Every time the boats approached any of the spectator banks, i.e. shores, the crowds would emit screams befitting boy band concerts. A Chinook and a few apache helicopters rolled in and flew by, and returned a few minutes later with the Singaporean flag. After awhile we had a flight of fighter jets fly by. I suppose what’s the point of having a military if you don’t use it for something?

In between and afterwards there was nothing, no noise, no music, no nothing. We sat and waited, we waited and sat, with the promise of eventual fireworks the only purpose of our presence. We had a round of cannon fire at one point. We waited and sat, we sat and waited. Some boats, decorated in white to have the approximate shape and appearance of a paper origami boat, float over to our part of the bay, and spend awhile driving up and down, rotating occasionally to mostly give the other side a view of the larger-than-life puppets inside. Mostly the boats were just kind of there. We watched and waited and sat. A line of little boats towing large paper-boat-shaped lanterns puttered by and back again. The most interesting thing was the pledge squad, a crowd of cheerleading girls with “Pledge moment” and 8:22 written on it, which is apparently the time when all Singaporeans are supposed to say the national pledge – or something.

Occasionally bursts of fireworks would emerge from down by the stadium, at which point the crowd would scream and ooh and ah and then nothing would happen for a long time.

Eventually, finally, and ultimately, we were duly rewarded with fireworks. Two sets, less than 10 minutes apiece, and already the crowds begin to shuffle off and we have to consider if this is another sit and wait moment or a get on and get out moment. We gave up and headed out.

This was easier said than done. I have no idea how many people were crowded into the waterfront area, but all of these people wanted to leave at the same time. It became massive red shuffling as everyone headed for the MRT stations at the same time. Shuffle shuffle shuffle. Little kids are draped over their parents’ backs and we opt out of going through the tunnel which looks like the Tunnel to Hell – full and crowded and soon to be enclosed. Instead we end up climbing up an embankment and climbing over a fence, shuffling in a snail’s pace. We shuffle down one way for awhile before discovering we can’t cross the street ahead and shuffle back. We shuffle down the street, past where we climbed the fence, over down to a street crossing, and back opposite to the fence. After several minutes of stop and go bottleneck we make it down to where the tunnel comes out – we would have saved a good half hour of crowds had we taken it, but oh well. We outsmarted ourselves, I suppose….

But all in all it was underwhelming. Compared to similar events in the US and in Germany, there was considerable patriotism, less entertainment and far less beer. No party was to be seen, just the ubiquitous bags most (other) people had been given. I could have saved myself the six hours and the massive crowds, and accrually enjoyed all the stuff in the stadium from the comfort of my living room. Next year…