I spent my first 5 years of life in a kampong (village), in a house typical of one – with slatted sides and zinc roof, a separate building for a kitchen, and an outhouse (a dark and scary place). But my roots spring from Housing Board Development flats – the public housing blocks where 80 or so % of Singapore’s population live. I spent all my formative years in and around them.
But I’ve never lived in the country of my birth as an adult, nevermind in my parents’ house, where it’s often hard to remember I’m a functioning adult (my Asian friends, y’all know what i mean don’t you?)
Being back is always a disorienting experience. Even after all these years. Especially when I never expected to live with a parent ever again.
Life eh, and its curve balls.
Oh and the picture? Made round the corner from the void deck of my block.