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Gipson: Singlish dialect complicates conversation for native English speaker

There is a long running joke in Singapore that everyone knows by heart.

An American casually strikes up a conversation with a Singaporean airline stewardess. When asked what she did before working for the airline, the stewardess replies, “I studied lor.” The American exclaims, “Wow. So, you were a real lawyer?”

Americans may not find the humor in this jest, but Singaporeans love hearing quips about their language, specifically those in which outsiders fail to grasp the meaning of a short word or phrase. In this case, “lor” is simply a word used to represent a completed action. It also happens to sound similar to the English word “law,” hence the misunderstanding by the American.

Singlish seems linguistically complex and that’s because it is. Essentially, you have English blended with both the syntax and vocabulary of the official languages of Singapore: Mandarin, Malay and Tamil, as well as other Chinese languages, such as Hokkien, Cantonese and Teochew, a dialect of Southern Min. In other words, it often sounds like a complete jumble of nonsense to foreigners, almost like broken, backward English.

Some linguists refer to Singlish as a creole, like Jamaican English. Others claim it’s a dialect, while few consider it to be a language. Either way, this vernacular is highly informal and of low prestige, as it is associated with the poor and working class residents of the country.



I wish I was kidding when I say this, but I still don’t understand half the things I hear on a daily basis — in English. My first week in Singapore was very difficult. You would think it was due to homesickness or loneliness, but no. It was because the language makes everything complicated. Taking the train, ordering food, asking for directions, talking on the phone are all 10 times harder because of this exceptionally peculiar dialect of English.

Admittedly, it didn’t take long for me to break out of my comfort zone. Once classes started, I began ending my sentences in “lah,” shouting “aiyah” to get my friends’ attention, and asking “Can?” to ask for permission. Much of Singlish consists of Chinese slang, so I find myself constantly learning Mandarin words in the process. When I get extremely frustrated with people or I’m in a hurry, I use my limited Chinese to get the point across to shopkeepers, food stall owners and security guards.

One thing you quickly notice about Singlish is sentence fragmentation. Singaporeans absolutely love to chop sentences into pieces, sometimes into a mere three or four words. For example, I went with my Singaporean friend, Jon, to the cinema during my first week here.

After the film, we walked to the bus stop and Jon said, “Gonna rain already.” Translation: it looks like it might rain soon. I had no clue what that meant at the time. Another example is when you order at restaurants. It’s perfectly acceptable to order a coffee by saying, “Kopi, ah” instead of, “Yes, I would like a small coffee, please.” One word and a marker is all it takes.

Then, we have relationship terms. Everyone uses these. Older men and women are “uncles” and “aunties.” Young men are “boys.” The Malaysians frequently call men and women “brothers” and “sisters.” My first experience with this was in the taxi from the airport to my hostel when my driver clearly established that he was an “uncle” and I was a “boy.” I sat down and he immediately shouted, “Boy, where you stay? Uncle take you there.”

But Singlish is highly discouraged. The Singapore government even went as far as creating the Speak Good English Movement, which encourages Singaporeans to speak grammatically correct English when socially appropriate.

Parents teach kids Singlish because that’s how they speak at home. They understand standard English, though this formal variant is used only in the workplace and classroom. That is to say, your professors will never yell at you in Singlish slang.

It may be a frustrating way to communicate at first, but a great pleasure to learn. You use the words and feel like such a local. Call it whatever you want: Singlish is still English lah.

Zachary Gipson is a senior majoring in economics and linguistics. He is striving to fit in with the fast-paced locals of Singapore. To chat about life abroad, shoot him an email at ztgipson@syr.edu.





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