Uniquely Singapore: At the Airport

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November last year, I went through a harrowing experience at the airport immigration in Singapore. 

It was after 12 midnight when I disembarked from the plane. As I drew near the yellow line, I noticed a young lady counting her cash before the immigration officer. I brushed the thought off that they might ask me to do the same. Then, I spotted three more women went through the same process. I tensed. I texted my brother who was waiting already at the arrival hall to fetch me. He said its part of the daily grind and that I should remain calm.  

Calm, my ass! I was traveling alone with, stupid me, only P13,000 in my wallet and seeking 30 days of stay. I did not bring too much money because my wonderful brother should of course take care of everything. The joy of being bunso. 

My turn came. At first the immigration lady was nice as she asked me particulars about my travel. A real walk in the park. Then she checked my return ticket – 30 days, and asked me to show her how much money I am carrying. Oh shits this is the moment. I pulled out my cash and kind of just spread them apart but she asked me to count them. 

When I finished, she said “you behi tety days, only fohundred dalas eh you paket lah.” I had my mouth hanging open, jaw dropped, frantically deciphering what the woman just said. Why did I ever take useless portuguese in college instead of mandarin! Hell I thought they speak english here! 

I said “I’m sorry I don’t understand?” 

She looked at me sternly and repeated what she just said [you will be here 30 days, only S$400 in your pocket lah]. I told her my brother would take care of my expenses. She got fiercer “you mean tell me, bradah pay your shoping en evryting?! You wait hi lah, I refer you to ah immigration ofisuh.” She shook her head like an annoyed mother as she left her post. I hastily texted everything to my brother. She came back and ordered me to turn off my mobile phone. 

She led me to a room at the far side of the hall. Four nervous looking Filipinas were already seated at the couch. Five more women were sent it. Forty-five minutes later, four Thai women from a newly arrived airline joined us. Until there were 14 of us finally. All of us have “trouble” written all over our faces. 

There were common factors among the 10 of us Pinay – traveling alone, carrying small amount of cash, seeking 30 days of stay, young, fresh and beautiful…Ehem, excuse me. Bottom line, the immigration officials are on guard for potential entry of illegal sex workers. 

Yes, it’s horrendous! Not to offend, I am not referring to the idea of being mistaken for a “streetwalker” because I’m not exactly a vavavoom (I just have the right curves here and there haha!), so to be mistaken for as such is quite a compliment. I am chuckling right now, okay. 

What is horrendous is the blatant deduction that Filipinas or Thais traveling in such conditions would qualify them as sex workers. If I were a Caucasian, would I hustle the same kind of treatment? Or would I be admitted with arms wide open even if I were only carrying a penny in my pocket. Would they even ask me to show my money? But neither is my skin white nor my eyes blue, and so the sorry plight I had to endure. 

I got in through Cebu Pacific. A rumor is circulating that if you fly in through a budget airline like Cebu Pacific, Tiger Airways, or Jet Star Asia, you will be accosted with less friendly reception than if you come in through Singapore Airlines or Philippines Airlines. The budget airlines are flying in at the newly constructed budget terminal separate from the premium Changi Airport. 

One Pinay kept muttering, “Shit, A to A [airport to airport] na tayo! Kinuha passport natin. T****na!” Then she goes on sharing her friend’s story who had P10,000 only and was sent back to Manila on the next flight of the airline which brought her in whereupon pay additional penalties as well. 

Another Pinay there is married to a Singaporean. The problem is she brought her sister along as a tourist. In my opinion, this positively should not be a crisis at all. But the immigration officer surmised that the couple might illegally keep the visiting family. To rationalize though, a tourist who is given a 14-day or 30-day social visit pass, if he wants to stay longer may very well seek an extension of stay as long as he can provide valid documents such as a sponsor. 

While I was inside the room, I managed to turn on my phone. Kuya started coaching me right away what I should tell the interrogating officers. In case you will be caught in the same sticky situation. 

1. If your cash is not enough, you can always say you have your ATM and credit cards with you. If they do not assent, give assurance that you can have more funds transferred to you. (I remembered a Pinay I met in Suntek City who had the same experience. She told the immigration officer her cash is in her check-in luggage. Bordering on being absurd, you wouldn’t put your cash in a check-in luggage when it may well get lost in transit, but she was believed nonetheless.)  

2. Always be ready with pertinent information, in my case, like the address of my brother, his NRIC/FIN to validate his identity or status and corroborate his capability to support me.  

3. Assert that you are only visiting and will not overstay. That if they cannot grant you 30 days of stay, it’s perfectly okay to be allowed 14 days or 7 days, say its really up to them. You are at their mercy.  

One by one, the immigration officials called us to another room and took our fingerprints. Throughout my nearly two hours of detainment, I must have prayed a hundred Psalm91 and Our Father, all unfinished. 

At last we were summoned one by one at the immigration counter. The sisters who were questioned came back, their problem unresolved. The women in the room tensed even more. 

Then it was my turn. Another officer-in-duty attends. Amazingly he only looked at me for a while, asked where I will be staying, encoded my passport details in the computer, and alleluia stamped 30 days in my passport. All the while I was ready with my well-rehearsed lines from kuya, which I never got a chance to use. I was standing there smiling awkwardly at this kind officer whose balding forehead I wanted to kiss! 

At about 2am, I finally met my brother, who almost got asthma attack from anxiety. And this is only the start of my “uniquely Singapore” experience.

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Tags: Airport to Airport, Budget Terminal, Cebu Pacific, Horror Story, Immigration, Pinay in Singapore, Sex Worker, Show Money, Singlish, Social Visit Pass, Uniquely Singapore