Drunken Soybean

I need a refund. Allergies weren’t included in my contract when I signed up to work in Singapore. I’ve had food allergies before, but I didn’t know stress could give me hives. Seriously, stress?!

I was three months in, working in Singapore, and let me tell you, it’s a whole different world. Training in the Philippines usually lasts six months. They take care of you there—like little ducklings in a pond. In Singapore? After two weeks, it’s “Good luck, you’re on your own.” They expect you to know everything already.

Singapore’s probation period is three months, and it’s like a high-stakes game of “sink or swim.” If you don’t pick up things fast, don’t expect a gentle nudge. People here don’t repeat themselves. At all. You have to know. It’s like “learn it now or be forever lost in the sauce.”

I come from Cebu, where work feels more like a yoga retreat than a workplace. We’re all about good vibes, and deadlines are like “Hey, if the stars align, we’ll get it done.” But here? It’s a whole new beast. Singapore moves at the speed of light. Everything is urgent. There’s no time for deep breathing or introspection. If you don’t act now, it’s as if the world will end. No wonder this country has progressed so much in just a few years—it’s a 1200% flip from what I was used to. I thought I was in a sci-fi movie.

The second and third months? They were… exhausting. Mentally, physically, spiritually… basically every “ally” in my body was in rebellion. I was convinced I wasn’t going to survive probation. Thoughts like, “Is this really for me?” and “God, please let me win the lottery tonight (in SGD), I’ll settle for that” were on loop.

But through all this, I started noticing something that hit me even harder than the stress: racial dynamics in the workplace. In Cebu, everyone celebrates the same holidays, shares the same culture, and there’s a feeling of equality. But in Singapore, I was suddenly a minority, and let me tell you, it’s an adjustment. It’s not just about adapting to a new culture—it’s about being the only one who doesn’t quite fit in. And that’s hard to swallow when you’re used to being at the center.

The stress? It wasn’t just in my mind. It took a physical toll. I started getting random headaches and body pain. You know that feeling when you’re too tired to even deal with your own exhaustion? That was me. But hey, who needs sleep when you can power through it with caffeine and willpower, right?

So, I popped a few painkillers. Which, of course, led to another adventure: allergy reactions. Apparently, my immune system decided to stage a protest and react to the medicine like it was a foreign invader. Swollen eyes, a rash that looked like I’d tried to hug a cactus… you get the picture.

It turns out that stress and allergies go hand in hand here. Who knew? Now, I’m just hoping my body doesn’t have a full-on rebellion every time I take a pill.

But here’s the kicker—I realize I’m not just dealing with physical reactions. The culture shock, the stress, the sense of being an outsider? It’s all part of this process of unlearning and relearning. I’m guilty, too—I’ve had my own biases, and now I have to confront them. It’s uncomfortable, but it’s also humbling.

So, here I am, still standing (barely). But I’m learning to navigate this chaos. It’s been a rollercoaster, but I guess that’s the price of progress. Or at least the price of trying to keep up with it.