TR EMERITUS

I’ve just arrived back in Singapore. You could say I should have a great feeling of relief of being back in civilisation, after week in what is to all intents and purposes a third-world country. That feeling should have been overwhelmingly strong as it took me around two hours to reach the boarding gate at Noi Bai International in Hanoi and entering Singapore a breeze (after filling out the SG Arrival card, entry into the country is happily automated) in comparison to what I had been through on the Vietnamese side.

There were wonderful signs of being “home.” The most obvious was water fountains at the airport. I was no longer dependent on bottled water to quench my thirst and of course, everything was a language I could communicate in.

However, I didn’t feel an overwhelming sense of joy to be back home. In fact, what I felt was an overwhelming sense of despair and I had to fight back the feeling of wanting to start sobbing on the spot. You see, the reason is simple, I had gone from a cranky airport in what is still a communist country that a sense of dynamism to a glamorous façade that seems to be hiding something that is not quite right.

Let’s make no mistake here. There is no comparison in terms of the facilities between Noi Bai International and Changi Airport. Nobody goes to Noi Bai to anything other than to get into and off planes. Changi on the other hand is a destination in its own right.

However, if you look at things through the lenses of the food scene, the difference is quite startling. I found the only two Burger King outlets between Hai Phong and Hanoi inside Noi Bai International. As mentioned in a previous posting, Burger King and its cousin, MacDonald’s couldn’t conquer the Vietnamese market. People were attached to their Pho and Ban Mi served along the roadside. It came faster, tastier and healthier than what the international chains could provide and seeing the world’s second largest joint stuck at the airport gives you a sense of satisfaction of watching a bully get humiliated by a guy half his size.

While Noi Bai did not provide me with a great experience (it’s not the place you want to walk around), it fits nicely into what I see as a narrative of a place that has some hope. Sure, things are not always smooth or pretty but people are finding a way of going about things.

Changi was sadly different. It’s a beautiful looking place but unfortunately, it seems to a beautiful shell hiding a sick interior.

First thing you that you notice is that the cleaners are inevitably old. I guess it didn’t really affect me during the years of the pandemic but then, when you step out of Singapore and back again, you notice it. Then, you ask yourself if that’s your fate. I mean, we have a spanking new, state-of-the-art airport, which is the envy of the world and yet the people who are doing the hard work to keep this wonderful place ticking over, are the people who should be enjoying what it has to offer.

I do get that some old people like to keep working because it helps keep them active and the pennies they earn help them out in old age. At 48, I’ve encountered my fair share of ageism and I do make a point that those of us over 45 are employable too. However, when every cleaner you run into happens to be over 65, it’s got to send signals out you that something is very wrong here. You have to ask – who exactly are we building these great facilities for?

Then, I wanted to get a meal and so I thought I would stop by the food court in Terminal 4, which for the record is the newest and swankiest part of the world’s best airport. When I left for Vietnam a week ago, this was the sight I was treated to – everything down to the toilet was magnificent.

However, coming back was a different story. The food court only had a few stalls. Many looked like they had been abandoned for some time:

Even branded stalls like Old Street Ba Ku Te and Paris Baguette looked like they had been closed for a while and nobody was doing anything about it.

Now, if there’s a business that is always healthy in Singapore, it’s the food stalls and the only time you see the food stalls closing is either when the place they’re in is a toxic dump where there are hazard signs blocking people from entering.

However, we’re not talking about a toxic dump. We’re talking about the world’s best airport and we make so much noise about how “food” as embodied by our food stalls are an existential part of who we are. Its what we want to show to the world in the place where the world gathers. It makes no sense to me that food stalls are being shut in this place.

The airport will always have business. There are always people in the airport. If rents are high, its because this is “hot” location. It’s the type of place where the you’d expect lots of people fighting to take the slots that are there.

When you see these empty stalls in the airport food court, you can’t help but feel something is wrong. It’s like being in a shinny shell that sicks on the inside and what feeling is enough to make you want to sob on end due to the despair of what you’ve walked into. That’s not what you should feel when you step into what has been consistently the world’s best airport in the world’s shiniest nation.

Tang Li

*Although I’ve been based mainly in Singapore for nearly two decades, I’ve had the privilege of being able meet people who have crossed borders and cultures. I’ve befriended ministers and ambassadors and worked on projects involving a former head of state. Yet, at the same time, I’ve had the privilege of befriending migrant labourers and former convicts. All of them have a story to tell. All of them add to the fabric of life. I hope to express the stories that inspire us to create life as it should be.

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