An American’s Guide to Culture Shock in Singapore
An American friend visited Singapore for the first time.
Within 6 hours, he went through all five stages of culture shock.
Stage 1: Awe
He took photos of Changi Airport like it was the Louvre.
Then asked if he could just… stay.
Immigration was not consulted.
Stage 2: Confusion
He tried to throw something away.
Three bins appeared.
“General waste, recyclables, and… tray return”
He stood there like he was taking a final exam.
Then he tried to sit at an empty table.
I grabbed his arm.
"Don't. There’s a packet of tissues there."
"Oh, free tissues?"
"No. That’s a land claim. If you sit there, you’re declaring war on an auntie who will be back with her laksa in 30 seconds… and she will win."
Stage 3: Panic
We finished eating. He started calculating 20% on his phone.
"What are you doing?"
"Tipping the auntie."
"We don’t do that here."
"So the price... is the price?
He stared at the receipt like it was a glitch in the Matrix.
Stage 4: Existential Crisis
We tapped our cards on the MRT.
He saw the 'No Eating/Drinking' signs on the MRT and clutched his Starbucks like contraband.
He asked, “Where are the guards?”
I said, “We behave. Also, we have CCTVs and the fear of our mothers finding out.”
He asked, “So… what DO people do here?”
I said, “We follow instructions and complain quietly.”
Stage 5: Acceptance
By Day 3, he was fully assimilated.
He was:
– Returning trays without being told
– Walking faster than locals
– Judging people who stand on the right side of the escalator
– Saying “can” and “cannot” with confidence
Ladies and gentlemen, we lost him at the hawker centre.
Last seen willingly queuing 20 minutes for Michelin-star soy sauce chicken.
