A newcomer's guide to the Singapore language

When I first came to Singapore I thought communication would be a breeze as English is the national language. But I soon realized that knowing English before entering Singapore is like knowing running before entering the tennis court: it helps you to get around but not actually play.

Affection for Acronyms

The enthusiasm for abbreviating names into acronyms in the country is unparalleled. The World Bank places Singapore no. 3 in the world in population density (with 7,713 people per square kilometre) but if we reapplied the measure to acronyms used in everyday life, Singapore would be world leader in acronyms per square kilometre.

“Where’s PIE?” I asked my Singapore colleague in my early days here. “The road signs pointing to it are very prominent.”

“It stands for Pan Island Expressway,” he explained.

“Ah!” I said. “And CTE?”

“Likewise: Central Expressway.”

“But that’s CE. What does the ‘T’ stand for?”

“For ‘Tral’, in ‘Central’. Singaporeans love three-letter acronyms; we think two-letter ones just don’t make the cut.”

“What’s BKE?” I asked.

“Bukit Timah Expressway,” he said.

“Wrong! That’s BTE, not BKE!”

“No! The ‘K’ stands for ‘Kit’ in ‘Bukit’.”

“But why?!” I cried. “Unlike CTE, we have a perfectly legitimate ‘T’ waiting to be used here.”

“That’s why! If we have CTE and BTE, where’s the creativity? People would wonder if future highways would be DTE, ETE and so on.  And how silly would ATE sound? People would wonder who ate it!”

I thought if we already had a PIE, there should be no problem if someone ATE it but I didn’t say so.

I began to study the different applications of acronyms across the island. While you’re driving on the CTE into the CBD, the ERP elegantly takes your money while its cousin EPS does the same when you park. If you buy things at the plaza near your government-built housing in Bukit Panjang, you’d say “I shop at BPP because it’s near my HDB flat in BPJ” (the ‘J’ for ‘Jong’ within Panjang contributes the all-important third letter). You pay GST, ride the MRT and bank at UOB.

Can-do attitude

Singaporeans are very gung-ho: they literally “can” do anything. In my early days I remember getting confused during a telephone conversation with Mr Henry Tan, the proprietor of a small sports shop.

“I want to buy trainer tennis balls,” I said to him on the phone.

“Can!” said Mr Tan.

“No,” I clarified. Trainer balls for coaching come in bulk packets of 50 or 100, not expensive individual cans.

There was silence. Then he said, sounding a little annoyed, “You want buy tennis balls?”

“Yes, trainer balls.”

“Can!” he said.

“No!” It was my turn to be annoyed. “No can.”

“If you want, can!” he said. “If don’t want, cannot also. But why call me, lah?”

I then realized that his ‘can’ referred to an enthusiastic willingness to deliver, not the outer package of the good I was trying to buy.

Special words

Singaporeans don’t confine themselves to the limits of the English language: they borrow heavily from neighbouring countries to add verve and colour to their communication. As a newcomer you would do well to learn a few of these expressions so you can use them in casual conversation and demonstrate that you get it. Here are a few examples to get you started:

·         Use ‘alamak’, the equivalent of ‘Oh my God!’, when you commit an error but add ‘jin-jia-lak’ when you commit a king-sized bloomer, as in, “Alamak jin-jia-lak! I forgot to pick up my wife from the airport already.” (Friendly advice: don’t perform this error just to practise using the term in a sentence: the repercussions will be nasty and long-lasting.)

·         ‘Chope’ is how you formally stake your claim to a seat at the food court with a packet of tissues (recognized as official chope material, always freely available at $1 a packet from a friendly aunty nearby). If someone tries to sit here, you say, ‘Sorry, I choped this seat already.’

·         ‘Chope’ should not be confused with ‘kapoh’ which means taking without permission, as in: ‘I did all the work. But when I visited the bathroom, he kapohed everything and showed it to the boss already.’

·         And ‘kapoh’ should not be confused with ‘kopi’, which is coffee with sweet condensed milk, also available as ‘kopi C’ (‘kopi’ with unsweetened condensed milk, not  sweet condensed milk), ‘kopi-O’ (‘kopi’ without the sweet condensed milk and without the unsweetened condensed milk but with the sweet sugar) and ‘kopi-kosong’ (‘kopi’ without the sweet condensed milk and without the unsweetened condensed milk and without the sweet sugar – some people would call this black coffee).

·         And ‘kopi’ should not be confused with ‘kaypoh’, a term you use to describe a nosey parker, as in: ‘She is so kaypoh, asking personal questions. I’m fed-up already’

·         To ‘act blur’ is to feign ignorance; for example, ‘Don’t act blur, trying to chope seat with water bottle. Cannot already!’

·         Use ‘atas’ to describe a snobbish attitude and throw in the word ‘kopi’ that I just taught you: ‘He won’t join us for kopi at the stall downstairs. He has become too atas already.’

·         And finally, as you’ve already seen in the previous examples, use ‘already’ as a versatile, multipurpose word to end almost any sentence to add emphasis, make a point or simply for fun.

A more exhaustive list can be found in this Singlish guide for foreigners.

It’s important to remember that while Singaporeans are masters of Singlish, they can switch to proper British English when conversing with foreigners, much in the way a chameleon changes its skin colour to suit its environment.

I’ve shared these titbits in a spirit of friendly altruism. But reading this article is only the first baby step in your journey to navigate the complex world of Singlish, just like flying to Kathmandu is only the first step to climbing Mount Everest. The real works starts now: I hope you study the subject deeply and, one day, become a master.