Lingua

It occurs to me that I am rather handicapped in Singaporean society. Perhaps it is the result of being weaned on the BBC World Service, courtesy of my father, or the constant drumming to speak proper English, also courtesy of my father. I have as such developed a taste and appreciation for the finer points of the English language, or perhaps more accurately British English. Yes, I freely admit it. The dry wit, the understatement, and the liberal use of sarcasm are all imprinted into the very soul of my command of English. I make no excuses for this. I did not even speak English until the age of 4. It was never necessary in Hong Kong. Naturally, being taught be expatriate kindergarten teachers did not help me acclimatise to the local scene.

It is a source of endless joy for me to be able to appreciate the finer things in life like poetry and The Economist. And surely a command of the English language brings with it manifold advantages in interviews and particularly a study of law.

Sadly though, it brings no predisposition in communicating with peers. It is not a mere issue of diction, and a tendency to use longer, if more precise, words. The crux of the matter seems to be style itself. Indeed, I would write and speak in a different form, often interspersing rhetorical questions into conversations. And it is occasionally doubtful if the appropriate message were conveyed at all.

At this fork on the road, I must confess I am not yet willing to surrender the thing that I love, the gentle caress of the English language in all its refinement and subtle charm, for a greater acceptance into everyday society.

While it seems that I have stepped out of my ivory tower into the crowd, I have clearly forgotten to change out of my sorcerer's robes.

P.S. The situation as regards to Chinese is even worse. Singaporeans must speak some of the worst Chinese in the world.