Post-colonial ruminations

This afternoon, it occurred to me for the first time that I’m living in the land of my former colonial masters. Well, being in Northern Ireland (NI) technically I’m living in the land that had been colonised and subsequently subsumed under my former colonial masters – but basically I’m in the UK, and Singapore was once a colony of the British Empire.

While on JET and interacting with British, Irish, Jamaicans, Australians and Americans, I came to realise that Singaporeans are far less hung up about our colonial past and a lot less aware of issues relating to colonialism. The vast body of literature on post-colonialism would hardly resonate with Singaporeans – in my experience, reading post-colonial academic and fictional works is just like learning to see things from a different point of view.

I can only speculate on why this might be the case. The biggest reason might be that most of us are descended from migrants who came to Singapore only after the British arrived, hence have no sense of having been colonised as our ancestors are not indigenous anyway. It might also be because the history books have told us that Singapore is what is today due to forces set in motion by the arrival of the British – as well as the Scottish actually. Perhaps it’s also because our short history and collective consciousness is more coloured by our separation from Malaysia than anything else – even our occupation by the Japanese due to the incapability of the British to defend us.

These thoughts came to mind due to some very first world problems.

I received the bill for our landline today and was shocked by the huge amount owed. It turns out that calls from landlines are fairly expensive, but we have no choice but to use the landline as our area has abysmal mobile reception. So if we need to make calls from home – which I need to do in my effort to settle in, find work and find ballet classes – we have to use the house phone, and the free talk time from our mobile plans are as good as useless. It made me feel poor, that I’m charged for services that I do not get to utilise fully, and that I’m being over-charged for services that I can use.

Boo. Whinge.

The United Kingdom–land where your blood boils.

I am up to my ears in rage and frustration due to the twists and turns in settling in, no thanks to the ridiculous regulations that are present in the UK.

Starting with my bank account – the UK requires that all applicants, citizens included, must provide two forms of evidence when applying: a primary form of evidence such as a passport or driving licence, as well as proof of address.

We thought that a signed contract from the letting agent certifying* that I do indeed live at this address would suffice - but we were wrong. The first bank wanted either a bill in my name delivered to my current address, or National Insurance-related correspondence. So we tried another bank, which was more helpful and showed us the application form^ which lists all the acceptable documents. Seeing that my best bet was to apply for a National Insurance number (NIN), I headed to the Jobs and Benefits Office to do so – more on that later.

While waiting on the NIN, we heard that B, an American, had applied for an account with Santander. B had to pay £5 a month for that account, but it was easier to open an account with Santander than with other banks. We checked that out, and to my delight Santander was willing to make exceptions for people who cannot provide the specified documentation. They scheduled for me an appointment with an advisor after confirming my photographic identity (by viewing my passport and my identity card from back home), and I got my bank account today. Yay.

So, now that I have a bank account, I was all ready to get a proper mobile line and purchase a new phone – a bank account is necessary to set up direct debit from that account for the monthly charges. However, I just discovered that what the sales person (#@!%*&) did not tell me was that customers must have resided in the UK for at least 3 years. The rationale for this requirement is beyond me, as where customers have previously lived has absolutely no bearing on their credit worthiness or their likelihood to default on payments! The only option now is for E to purchase a second phone and line in his name for me to use, with the bill to be charged to his account – which was a possibility we had considered in the first week of my arrival but eventually decided to wait till I got a bank account to make it easier for me to manage my own phone line in the long run. A two week wait and all for nothing!

Back to the NIN application. There was scant information available online on how to apply for an NIN, except for a phone number and address. We called the number, but when the person found out that we are living in Northern Ireland, she directed us to call another number instead – essentially “bugger off if you’re in Northern Ireland”. It’s the same thing for certain government offices – e.g. there are no Driver and Vehicle Licensing Agencies in the whole of Northern Ireland, and if you happen to need their services you are welcome to send things in by post or drop into the nearest office in Scotland instead.

At the centre for the NIN application – which we couldn’t contact by phone as no one bothered to answer the line – I was told that it is essential for me to prove that I am actively looking for work at the NIN application interview. The person then informed me that I could get a letter proving I’m actively seeking employment from the Jobs Centre near City Hall. Off I went, halfway across town, only to be told when I got there that not only was I misinformed, but that the place where I could get a letter was from the Jobs Centre housed in the exact same building which I was earlier in. *rage*

In view of the above, I thought to list down some tips for anyone considering moving to the UK:

Tip 1: Bring your NRIC with you when you are moving overseas. I usually don’t bring my NRIC when I’m overseas, and I had with me only because I’d forgotten to empty my wallet before I left.

Tip 2: Santander is awesome – bank with them if you’re in the UK. They are also the first bank in the UK to have an account which gives you cashback on your spending on petrol, household bills and the like – something which many banks in Singapore offer. They also have a credit card which gives cashback on purchases at supermarkets and departmental stores – which is uncommon, if not non-existent, in the UK as well. Unfortunately I’m not eligible to open that account, but if you are – bank with Santander.

Tip 3: If you want to move to the UK, make sure you know someone who is willing to apply for things like a phone line on your behalf.

Tip 4: Be appreciative of the public servants and administrative staff back home. They’re actually pretty good.

Tip 5: Be thankful that Singapore is small. Your needs are well looked after and the provision of services is fair no matter where you live – even if it’s in an opposition ward.

*      *      *      *      *

*: To get that contract and my keys to the house, I also had to fill out forms, send in a scanned copy of my identification and pay a non-refundable £30 (or more; can’t quite recall) – so it’s not like it was some scam job.

^: This is a sample from Santander – see List 2.

Two Weeks

It has been two weeks since I moved over and I’m not as settled in as I’d thought I’d be.

I’m still waiting to set up a bank account, as some idiot at BT screwed things up by acting on his own accord despite our express instructions to send a paper bill. Without the bank account, I’m still without a proper mobile line – and a new phone – here, and was forced to get a Tesco pay-as-you-go SIM card, which at least has given me some semblance of normality to life with internet on the go*. I finally hauled my lazy ass down to register with a GP so that I’ll have some medical coverage if I fall ill, and the appointment is next week. Same for the application for a National Insurance number – the appointment is next week as well.

I’m still waiting to apply for my provisional driving licence, namely because I need to find someone who has known me for more than 2 years and resident in the UK to sign on the back of my passport photo to verify that the photo is, indeed, of me. Perhaps E’s dad on our next trip down to the country. I’ll need to submit my passport with that too, so it’ll have to wait till all the essentials are sorted.

I’m very slowly working on finding a job, with the emphasis on ‘slowly’, as evidenced by me spending about the past 2.5hrs finding a suitable blogger template and updating it. Even then, I’m not entirely satisfied by this one – it seems a little too cheery for Belfast, and childish for my age and my unemployed circumstances – but I like its simplicity.

Already I’m certain that I cannot ever be a housewife, as it’s an incredibly boring occupation. I can imagine what tonight’s conversation will be like:

E: What did you get up to today?

Me: Oh, nothing much. Tried finding a job but got distracted and updated my blog instead. And looked into A and B and C about D and E and F.

E: I see. What else did you do?

Me: Well, I also did the laundry, and as I read that you have to de-ice your freezer regularly to ensure that it’s energy efficient, I spent an hour this morning de-icing it. You should have seen the amount of ice that had accumulated in our freezer – it filled up the whole oven tray and more!

Yup, I must be so proud that my greatest achievement today was removing the insane amount of ice in our freezer so that now we can save money on electricity with an energy efficient freezer! Yay. Really, it’s not so much that I’m bored of sitting at home – not yet anyway – but it’s just that I have nothing interesting to share or talk about with other people. Yesterday I went to see The Trocks (more on them in another post I think) which will be fun to talk about, but before that the most exciting thing I had to talk about was the immensely tiring walk I had to Forestside, which was much further and way more strenuous to get to than we’d thought.

Anyway. I’d better put in more effort into finding a job. And, out of sheer randomness, here’s a picture of the Big Fish – which I am told is called Kev.

*: Yes, I am very attached to my phone, am a Facebook addict and am extremely grateful for access to GoogleMaps on demand in an unfamiliar city. Smartphones have to be one of the greatest inventions of the century.