Oh yeah, did I ever mention that I've a job right now?
I actually applied for this job together with my last one (you know, the one I quit after working a day, heh), and frankly speaking I've always wanted this one more, almost solely due to the fact that this one's at AMK, which slices my travel time by around half to a third compared to the other one at Tuas. Also, this is an actual car workshop, where we service cars, repair any nook and cranny, wash, etc., compared to the other one which is just pre delivery inspection, so we don't get to really pick apart a car to study it. It's just that this workshop's boss was too busy to get back to me within the time frame I was given to confirm with the other boss whom I did meet for an interview at a coffeeshop, and my mentality back then was, "well I need A job...", and so I bit the bait on it.
On the week I quit, a message came from that too-busy-to-interview-me boss on Friday night, arranging for an interview on the next day. Honestly speaking, I didn't really think or feel that I'm ready for anything, on the heels of that tidal wave of sadness I couldn't overcome that caused me to quit that last job within a day. I was incredibly lost and defeated, and didn't know what I ought to do or how I can get better. But, in an odd twisted logic, because I was so lost and didn't know what to do, I just treated the invitation for an interview almost as a conscription. "Oh fine I'll go, not like I've a choice or anything...", separating what I really want and feel from what I told myself I "needed" to do. I just kinda knew I needed the interview in my head but I couldn't find myself wanting to do anything, à la slavery.
And so I went in not expecting anything or even really wanting the job, dragging myself to the interview and just being super disinterested in general. Of course, with society's lifelong training of putting on a presentable front, it didn't come across in the interview. The long and short of it is that I got the job on the spot, with barely any mention or look at my qualifications or résumé.
The head honcho looked and sounded like a nice enough guy, especially for someone I might've pictured running such a rough business handling equally rough men. He is a diploma holder much like me, and started out on the rock bottom just like me. He said that this trade doesn't have enough Singaporeans in it, which is why he's always happy to mentor Singaporean kids in his workshop. He also laid out a career path for me, along with how I might branch out from doing this seemingly menial, low paying, rough work. And, really, that was the ONE thing I was missing in that last job: a sense of purpose and progression.
Also, I feel very fortunate to have found this job at this garage, because I feel that the workshop's ethics aligns very well with my personal ethics. They emphasise honesty and sincerity towards the customer above all else, in comparison to all the nasty rumours of upselling and unnecessary part replacing that is rife in the automotive industry. They focus not on being the biggest car repair company, but the best. And, as I've come to find out in the four days I've worked for them thus far, they really emphasise on doing the best job they can, for every car that arrives at their workshop. They treat each and every car as they would their own, so as to earn the trust and respect of the customer, as well as to learn as much about cars to be the best technicians they can be. I am thoroughly blown away by their work ethic, and I'm... actually quite surprised that people like that still exist today, let alone a whole company of them.
More surprisingly, as a newbie 23 year old Singaporean with zero experience and knowledge in a car workshop, I was welcomed with open arms in the workshop where, aside from the boss, I was the only Singaporean. It sounds like a silly thing to have reservations about on paper, or, should I say, on the internet. But the thing about Singapore's erm... what's the correct term... manual labour industry? is that it can be quite backwards, and it's readily apparent even in the little working experience I have. Manual labour is usually, if not exclusively, handled by foreign workers, since we're a *cough* highly educated *cough* bunch and we're theoretically above doing menial, hard work for a living, especially when such jobs usually don't even pay enough to sustain a life in Singapore. The pay however, while not feasible to live off of in Singapore, due to our dollar being quite valuable, actually exchanges to quite a sizeable chunk in, say, MYR or RMB of Malaysia and China respectively, so foreign talent is more than happy to work here for that kind of pay (also because they don't have this whole pesky CPF thing that takes a hearty chunk of their pay).
That said, I think you'd understand if I tell you I've reservations about being accepted into a workshop full of foreign workers, since I'm seemingly the instant apple of the boss' eye just for being a Singaporean Diploma holder, and get paid just as much, if not more on paper for doing less than a hundredth of what they're already capable of. Heck, this seed of doubt had been planted in my mind straight from the day of the interview, where the boss said something to the effect of, "they're all dumb muscle I expect you to be better than them since you've demonstrated that you can learn better than them with this fancy ass shiny diploma so I expect you to observe more and come up with more ideas". Even before I put on a pair of safety boots, a line had clearly been drawn and a wall had already been erect in its place, and it makes me sick. Imagine if I had went and gotten a degree like I felt so pressured to, whooh!
It makes me sick still, that people would heap expectations on me, for things I never had a choice in. It was never my choice to be born here. And while, yeah, it was my choice to pursue a diploma, it always felt more like I was getting swept along the flow of the norm rather than an informed decision with the context of various industries and markets of society. I mean, hell, who's a dumbass 17 year old me back then to know, right? Then comes slavery, and suddenly the expectation of being a tough, responsible, patriotic and teamworky person laden onto you. It makes me want to fucking puke. None of these things were my conscious, informed decision. None of these things make me a better, more useful person. None of these things, except maybe the "I'm a Singaporean pls I have cpf and shit's expensive here", warrant me getting paid more. Yet every automotive industry related company I've worked at, these expectations cling onto my like a cage. Even the foreign workers themselves expect more from me, even if it meant putting themselves down. I was told off once in my 4 days thus far, "Singaporeans shouldn't do work on their knees!", when I was vacuuming a car's removed carpets as part of our servicing package. It baffles me to no end how much value there is simply for being Singaporean, and it baffles me perhaps even more that I can't see that value. If we're so against racism, or discrimination in general, then, conversely speaking, why do we condone this "Singaporeans are holier than thou" attitude with open arms?
It makes me feel guilty as all hell, almost as if I owed the workshop the world, when I'm so accepted by those that'd place me on a fucking pedestal. I was even told off once for thanking them too much when they teach me stuff, simply because it breaks that "family" feel they have fostered in the workshop. I literally showed up one day, a clueless fucking lamb, told them "hey I'm the new guy pleased to meet you" and just like that, we were family.
In fact, they hardly even seemed to give a damn when we met the first time. After that introductory line, they were like "oh okay" and went back to whatever they were doing, be it eating instant noodles for breakfast, or watching some cheap, horrendously produced, unsophisticated, talentless porn on company Wi-Fi. Contrast this to that hard to describe, super discreet feeling you'd get in an office setting, where, with every introduction, you get this vibe that everyone is trying to read you, to guard against you, or to somehow use you as a stepping stone. It's common sense, and I too am of course guilty of it, but it's only when people don't do it to me, when people didn't give a damn, that I start to realise how upsetting that feeling of being guarded against and read is.
A host of these factors combined, what with being Singaporean, being accepted unconditionally nonetheless, feeling in debt, and with me staking my own self worth and future dreams on learning this trade, I think I put a lot of pressure on myself at work... god it still sounds awfully weird when I say that about myself, especially when this is the only way I know how to work and exist. And so, because of the pressure I put on myself and all these expectations everyone around me and myself put on me, failure hits me really personally and way harder than it perhaps should. When I don't do a good enough job, if I don't know enough to do a job, when I fuck something up, it really digs into me. Again, this is my first four days on the job. Of course I suck at it. I realise this. That string of words forms a sentence is in my head, but I can't make them carry any weight for some reason. I just want and need to be so good at this, so soon. When I leave work feeling unaccomplished because all I could do was to stand around quietly watching the people too busy to reply me, I feel fucking worthless, and all those dark thoughts and feelings come back to haunt me, which just opens up the floodgates to all the philosophical and existential questions I kept pestering myself with when I didn't have a job. But, when I did do something, like when I handled that -certain car-, including doing a full oil change for it, washing the car, just looking at it, even thinking about it now, makes me smile like crazy. "Look at that, you see that? THAT was ALL ME, look at how much it's shining! Look at how ready the car is!"
I don't know. The weirdest things make me happy. Happiness in itself is a weird concept, isn't it? Some people are slaves but can be happy, yet there are millionaires who are miserable. Sometimes happiness feels almost like a cruel joke with how befuddling it is.
Well, I say they're family. They say we're family. But in reality, we're "like a chicken trying to talk to a duck", as the local saying here goes. Yeah, sure, in theory we all speak Mandarin. They are to some extent capable of English, but it's the accents that make communication super hard, especially with their god awful, half baked English. "Vacuum" is pronounced "vikkim", and "sponge" is "span", just to give a few examples off the top of my aching head. I mean, it's their unique language, almost. And, well, even if they say they're family, I can't find it in myself to really open up and drop my guard. I can only still see them as colleagues, and it kinda bugs me that I do. I realise this whole "trust" thing can't be rushed, especially with a lifetime of lessons conditioning my head to never trust anyone, but it still makes me feel awful.
It's amazing, really, to see this great divide. If anything, it just reminds me of how fucked up we are, watching these "lesser educated people", if you will. Makes you wonder why we're made to be like this, if things really are best like this, and how cold and callous a world we live in. Makes you wonder just how to be happy in a world, with a status, like this, doesn't it? Is this really for the best? Can society not function without all this coldness and distance? Why are we trained and conditioned from young to be like this? Who decided this is necessary and why?
Kinda sucks that I've a 6 day work week and get paid peanuts by Singapore standards, and how I leave work every day with every part of my body sore and head aching. But at least I'm too tired to let that sadness take root and conquer my head... so it's... something, I guess? And, hey, if I'm careful, I might save S$400/month... of which I've already blown about 30 buying my first porn title eheh.
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