An Open Letter to A Foreign Friend

Dear friend,

How are you? Are you accustomed to the life, food and pace of this city-state yet?

I saw you the other day at the road, in your hard hat and your yellow boots. You were there under the scorching afternoon sun, squatting down by the road side and applying cement to the road you were upgrading. I was looking down from the upper deck of the double-decker, air-conditioned SBS bus.

It must be hard work, isn’t it? To work every day under this condition, breathing in the dust and carbon dioxide from the vehicles, taking the risk of getting hit by a vehicle. Do they pay you well? Food? Accommodation?

I saw you at the HDB construction site as well, when I was in the MRT train passing by the site. You were wearing the same thing, hard hat and yellow boots. You were working under the same condition, the same risks and danger. This time, you were carrying some heavy equipment here and there.

How is your family back at home? Your grandfather, grandmother, father, mother, brothers, sisters? Did they buy the land and build a house with the money you sent them yet? How about the girl in the photograph that you keep in your wallet, that you take out every night to look at? Is she your girlfriend? She must be missing you alot. I’m sure you miss her too.

I must say that I am sorry for how my countrymen see you. I am sorry if they call you a Bangladeshi even though you are from New Delhi. The people here tend to stereotype because they really are not as exposed as they think they are. This city-state here is really cosmopolitan, but the people are not quite.

I’m sorry if they laugh at you when you hold your friend’s hand. My countrymen do not understand that these your friends are all you have in this foreign land. They simply do not understand that cultures different from theirs exist in this world. To them, a man holding a man’s hand is being homosexual. Sorry, they are that shallow, please understand.

I am sorry if they say that you have stolen all of their jobs and have left them unemployed. They are just being sour about getting retrenched because they are so choosy with their jobs. Don’t worry, you have not stolen their jobs. They wouldn’t go build roads, build houses, or wash the floor even if they were given the opportunity to. You are doing something that none of us would do, so don’t be too bothered by what they say.

I am sorry if my countrymen shun you, if they display their displeasure when you want to stay in their estate. They are like that, really. They want to tell themselves that they are so accepting, kind and magnanimous, but when it comes to their own neighbourhood, they get really fussy about it. You can stay anywhere you want, just not in their estate, or so they say.

I must thank you though. I must thank you for building such nice houses for me. For building such sturdy and beautiful roads. For keeping the estate clean every day. For clearing the rubbish from the chute every week. Your contribution to this city-state is way greater than what my countrymen think. They think that our houses and roads are built instantly and automatically. They think that the estate is clean simply because they did not litter on the floor. They are like that, sorry. They really do not recognize that these things are built and done by your hands.

You have done a wonderful job in this city-state, and I hope my countrymen will appreciate you, and that things will get better for you. For now, please take good care of yourself and keep up the good work in this place.

Regards,
A fellow human being who happened to be born in Singapore