Tribal wives, Singaporeans and Mc Donald's

Last evening, I watched "Tribal Wives" on TV. This is a show whereby middle-aged women from London go to live with a remote tribe for a few months in a quest to discover what life is really about. Most of these women live with daily urban frustrations; traffic, stress and loneliness. Eventually they hit a crisis point; they don't know what they are doing wrong, life is on the surface good (good job, nice house etc) but yet they feel empty and burdened at the same time. They need to get away, which then sets them off on a journey to live with a remote tribe, far away from London. Yesterday, it was the story of Becky, a yuppie with a glitzy job in an architectural firm, going to Papua New Guinea to live with a remote island tribe, of which the biggest worry they have is their yam harvest. Anyway, to cut a long story short, she goes there, is uncomfortable with the change in lifestyle, eventually comes to terms with it, is adopted into one of the families and embraces their simple way of life. I couldn't help but notice how different these people were from city folk. There is no word "stress" in their vocabulary. Everyone in the village pitches in and there is a strong sense of family and community there. Nobody is so busy working that they need to park their elderly parents in an old folk's home, or leave their children in the care of domestic helpers. As much as it appears to be some very sexist traditions (women must wear skirts), it seems that the men are more respectful of women over there. In the city, whereby we are so-called "civilized" men, we often treat women as sexual commodities, with a culture that worships physical beauty, frequently favoured over the strength of character. The islanders are friendly and trusting towards each other, not guarded and defensive as many city folk are. Yep. It is us Singaporeans too alright. Me included. I admit I tend to think poorly of strangers around me when I am in the MRT. "How can that bastard pretend to sleep when an old man is standing beside him?" "That bitch wears so much makeup that her head is a different colour from her neck." "What is wrong with that young punk playing his lousy music (loudly) to the entire train?" "Gosh, that recruit should take a bath."... You get the idea. Unfortunately, it is not difficult to find some idiot to justify your negative pre-conceptions of your fellow S'poreans. Still, how did we get this way? Overcrowding? The worship of materialism? When did life become just about grinding out a living, working X hours a day to pay for your HDB flat, car and family expenses? When did life become sticking an ipod into your ears and escaping into the virtual world of the iphone? Do we truly know less about life and happiness than a Papua New Guinean tribesman? Or have we simply forgotten what it was all about? Let me illustrate my point: Imagine you live in a strange community whereby all they eat is McDonald's. When you are a kid, you eat a Happy Meal, when you are an adult, you eat a Big Mac. You have not thought about eating anything else because there is nothing else on the menu and the other people around seem content with chomping on their burgers. Here is where the chain of materialism gets ridiculous; you buy a Big Mac, then you buy another because maybe you are hungry. Then you buy another because the guy next to you has three Big Macs and you only have two. No, make it four Big Macs so that I one-up him. In the end, the number of Big Macs purchased simply exceeds what you can eat, and it just becomes a life of surrounding yourself with more Big Macs. Why? Feel good just looking at them? Finally the wall of Big Macs blinds and blocks you from anything else in life. It surrounds you and ultimately consumes you. Ironic that, the Big Mac eats you instead of the other way round. For those in Big Mac Country who can't afford a Big Mac, they look with envy at the person who has a wall of Big Macs and wonder if they could ever "have it that good", while in reality, both the "haves" and "have-nots" are equally miserable. Then more and more people from overseas enter the country in hopes of scoring a Big Mac and then the restaurant gets packed. The competition to buy Big Macs intensifies to a boiling point; the locals complain that the government is letting too many foreigners buy their Big Macs. The government in turn, tells everyone that there are plenty of Big Macs for everyone. So begins the great Big Mac war, which keeps everyone busy. So very busy that no one cares to ask "I'm fighting for a Big Mac?" Food for thought? Only if it ain't Big Macs...