Formal or abnormal?

A couple of weeks ago, I did something I had never done before.

I dared to say to a Singaporean friend, what I would only dare to say to an Indian friend.

"So did you guess we'd have a birthday celebration for you in the office?" my colleague asked me after my surprise birthday party in the office.

"I dunno about the celebration, but if there'd been no cake, I'd have killed you." I said without batting an eyelid.

I believe she was visibly disturbed. Because it was the first time I'd been so damn informal with her.

But the deed was done. It was the moment, I suppose. And strangely, it felt good. For the first time in the 8 years I've lived in Singapore, I felt like I had bridged the racial gap. I'd bridged the divide of formalities with a friend.

There. I'd done it. Now do what you can.

Why was I so proud of that particular 'achievement' when every day I threaten complete strangers on my blog with a "One kaan ke neeche!" and "It's not like that, you dhakkan!"

I guess, this is how I speak with people I'm close to or feel close to. I can take certain liberties without having to think before I talk to my close friends. Because I believe that I shouldn't have to.

Isn't that what differentiates my friend from the random stranger on the road asking me for directions?

I actually wondered why it took me so long to say what I said. And what was it that I had been afraid of.

Some time ago, I was introduced to a rather interesting African guy. He'd moved to Singapore eight months ago for work, and has been here since.

As we sat in Thai Express, and looked through the glass walls at the different types of people - Chinese, Malays, Indians, Caucasians, etc. - walking through City Link, he told me about an observation of his.

"Singapore is such a unique country. You have so many different types of people living together in harmony, and yet they don't really mix. It's like water, oil and another liquid. All in the same bucket, but not mixing."

His words made me think. I had noticed it, but not really thought of it like that. And perhaps he was right.

I remember in university, one of my seniors had told me, "You notice, Sayesha, most people stick only to their kind? Indians with Indians, Malays with Malays, Chinese with Chinese. But we should really try and make friends with the others too."

He was right. People were either by themselves, or they were in their own groups. Groups that were very clearly defined by secure boundaries. The Chinese groups, the Malay groups, the Indian groups, the Caucasian groups. And though once in a while, you did see a stray Indian or a Malay in a Chinese group and vice versa, it was rare. Most of the time it was pretty defined.

It comes across as slightly weird considering how harmoniously people live in Singapore in spite of their different races and cultures (*touchwood*). If Singapore is a melting pot of cultures, then why is the divide still there? A couple of days ago, a friend told me, "I miss hanging out in a bunch of Indian friends, and just having fun." His Indian friends from university have all moved away, and now even though he hangs out with his Chinese friends, he misses the informal behaviour, being at ease, being completely himself, having pure fun without having to think. I could understand what he was saying, cos I have friends of all kinds, and even though I really like hanging out with my Chinese friends, somehow I have noticed that it is slightly different. When I am with them, I actually think before I talk. Well, most of the time anyway.

Let's say I am sitting in a group of friends. If I have to go to the toilet, I can hand my bag to an Indian friend, say Meera, and say "Oye Meera, yeh pakad!" ("Oye Meera, hold this!") and then go off. But when the same thing happens with Ming Ming, I must say "Ming Ming, can you help me hold my bag? Thanks!" no matter how close I am to Ming Ming. That's how they do it here. That's how it's done. But if I say to Meera, "Meera, is bag ko pakadne mein meri madad karogi? Shukriya!" Meera would give me one slap and we'd burst out laughing.

Speaking of slapping, why it is that I can say to an Indian friend "I'll slap you if you dare go for that movie without me!" without blinking an eyelid but I'd think thrice before saying it to a Chinese or a Malay friend, and then probably decide against saying it. Why? Is it about formalities? Is it about manners? Is it about culture? If not, what it is then? Why do I have to regulate what I say even though I'm totally comfortable with them? And do my Chinese and Malay friends also treat me differently? Are they more formal with me than with their own kind?

So what does it boil down to? Are we more formal - and a little less 'ourselves' - with others than with our own kind? And if so, why?

I was wondering if this works with gender as much with race, when I got my answer some time ago when I was having dinner with a bunch of guys from old times. Now I have always been a tomboy. I am very comfortable being in an all-guys' group, sometimes more comfortable than in an all girls' group. A couple of days ago, these guys were at my place and weighing themselves on my bathroom scales. "Okay, Sayesha, your turn now!" Someone yelled.

"Nonsense. I'm not gonna weigh myself in front of you guys!" I said.

"Shut up and get on the scales." came the order.

"Fine." So I stood on the scales while the guys peered at the number.

"Hmm... 54. Not bad... ek aur kilo kam ho ja bas! ("You just need to lose one more kg!")." Someone suggested.

That was it man. I had allowed myself to step on weighing scales in front of a bunch of guys and let them comment on my weight. It was the ultimate. Incidents like this made me feel that we were completely at ease with each other, and there were absolutely no formalities amongst us.

But perhaps that was just me. Perhaps I had conveniently (and perhaps selfishly) forgotten to wonder if the guys were just as 'themselves' as I was 'myself'.

I started to doubt my confidence when I was having dinner with the guys. Suddenly, one of them got a call from another guy friend of his. During the course of his conversation, he happened to mention a word that made me frown. I had never heard him use that word before. (No it's not any of the s*** or f*** words, those they use freely even if I am around) But he was freely using it talking to the guy on the other end of the phone. And laughing. And he looked really casual and free.

It puzzled me. Because I thought I knew all the bad words in his vocabulary. And I thought this one wasn't. But apparently it was. So perhaps he was not as free with me as I'd thought. Perhaps there were still things about him that he was careful enough not to let me - the girl - know. Perhaps guys are really the most 'themselves' when they are in an all guys' group, when they don't have to think twice about what would make the gals frown.

The more I think about this, the more confused I get. Why do our differences determine how we treat a friendship? Why are the differences there? And as we move towards complete globalisation, will things change? Or is it that perhaps this is something that will always stay on some levels, no matter how much we kid ourselves?

But then again, sometimes, friends of the same kind as you may also get offended if you get too informal with them. Maybe they do not consider you as close to them as you thought.

Perhaps the informalities really have nothing to do with gender or race or differences. Perhaps these are just man-made explanations to observations. Perhaps we need to take that first step towards completely being ourselves, without looking around to see who's around us. Is it because we tend to see the differences before we see the depth of the friendship? Is the term 'dosti ka haq' ("the right of friendship") getting obsolete now?

But now I feel like I have taken the first step towards bridging the gap. At least between the girl I threatened to kill and myself, for a start. Now I can introduce her to people as "my friend" rather than "my colleague".

Perhaps it's all in our own head then. We just need to take that first step. When we feel close to someone, perhaps we should allow ourselves to say the three little words freely, without having to think.

"I'll slap you."