Neil Humphreys: Singaporeans treat ang mohs just as kindly as Thais - at funerals
When Caucasian tourists mistook a funeral in Thailand for a buffet restaurant this week, I was struck by the Asian kindness shown towards strangers, not to mention the lengths that ang mohs will go to get a beer.
As the story predictably went viral, my WhatsApp exploded with Singaporean friends reminding me that those tourists were following in my footsteps.
Yes, on one infamous November night back in 1996, I stumbled into a Toa Payoh hawker centre at 2am - only to belatedly discover that it was actually a Chinese funeral wake.
I reached this conclusion when my friend Scott leapt from his chair and shouted: "There's a dead body in the hawker centre!"
In restrospect, that was the real giveaway.
'Look for lots of people sitting at tables on plastic chairs'
I want it noted for the record that the Singaporeans at the wake were just as courteous as the Thais, especially as our faux pas happened at a time when such an incident would've been even more outlandish.
Remember, this was 1996. I'd been invited here by my Singaporean best friend, whom I met at the University of Manchester, and he'd detailed the wonders of the hawker centre. This was before social media, when we had no idea what one looked like.
But our friend gave us explicit instructions: "Take the lift down from block 230 and walk across Toa Payoh Lorong 1. Look for lots of people sitting at tables on plastic chairs. They'll be surrounded by food stalls. That'll be the hawker centre."
Well, our jet-lagged brains found everything that our friend had itemised – except the food stalls. But the hawker centre was surrounded by beautiful banners with embroidered Chinese characters, which we assumed were the menus.
Our plan was to point at the nearest banner and say: "We'll eat that one."
Must be football fans, eh?
We also noticed that most of our fellow diners were wearing white T-shirts. As it was late, we assumed they were local football supporters.
Perhaps they were enjoying a celebratory supper together. I was wrong about that. Obviously. Back then, the local team was Balestier Central FC and they had nothing to celebrate.
But Scott and I were genuinely taken aback by Singaporean generosity. There were paper plates filled with peanuts, so we helped ourselves. There were also packets of tea. We finished the lot and no one complained.
To this day, I've wondered what the mourners thought of us. For younger readers, it cannot be overstated what an incongruous sight it was just to see a couple of ang mohs in the Toa Payoh heartlands in 1996 – one a lanky beanpole, the other a dwarfish sidekick, the pair looking like they'd been evicted from Mr Bean's circus.
Still the 'ang moh funeral guy'
Today, it'd be like finding a Leader of the Opposition, or a mating couple making strange noises in an office unit. They presumably exist. They're just hard to spot in the wild.
And the idea of those two young Caucasians stumbling into a Chinese funeral at 2am - well, you'd have more chance of spotting a crocodile off Sentosa.
But we were not treated like apex predators – or ang moh predators – at the funeral. We were left alone in our benign ignorance, until my friend spotted the coffin and we made a quicker exit than the CEO of a property agency.
Five years later, I included that story in my first book. And now, almost 30 years later, I'm still known as that "ang moh funeral guy", which makes me sound like I provide bereavement services for dead Caucasians.
A quirky introduction to the Republic
But at the risk of sounding both naïve and mawkish, that awkward funeral encounter was my introduction to the Singapore that I fell in love with, one that (mostly) has a quiet respect and dignity for others, without the need for ostentatious displays of faux sincerity (just look for the nearest social media account).
By its very nature, social media amplifies the very opposite: the negative traits that exist in any society. Every angry bus passenger and coffee shop argument goes viral in Singapore, because everything must go viral to feed the beastly algorithm. And nothing sustains the beast quite like ugliness, forcing our social media feeds to uphold the myth of the ugly Singaporean.
We are all putting our feet up on buses, right? We are all spitting water on MRT trains. We are all having extra-marital sex.
It's just not true. If nothing else, it sounds really exhausting.
In 1996, a couple of ang mohs misttook a funeral for a hawker centre, ate some food and were not kicked out. A decade later, some western tourists did exactly the same in Thailand. The only difference was there was no social media back in 1996 – and we didn't ask if we could eat the peanuts. We just assumed they were free for "diners" and still, no one asked us to leave.
Was that an act of kindness, tolerance, or acceptance? You decide. But I'll always be grateful for Singaporeans' generous understanding that night.
I've also accepted the fact that when I die, I'll be remembered as "that ang moh at the Chinese funeral". I'm fine with that.
In fact, my funeral will be open to everyone. And the peanuts will be free.
Neil Humphreys is an award-winning writer and MONEY FM radio host, a successful author and a failed footballer.
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