[Confession] I marry Singaporean husband think he rich, now I work coffeeshop pour beer ðŸ˜
Hello everyone, sorry first because my English not so good. Sometimes I need to use Google Translate to help me write this, so grammar maybe a bit broken. But today I really need to confess my story because I keep inside my heart until very stress, need to release before I go crazy.
I know many people think foreign brides come to Singapore only want money. Not say I totally innocent, but I really thought my life will change for the better. Instead, now I cry in the toilet.
The Big Dream in Vietnam
Five years ago in Ho Chi Minh City, I meet my husband through a friend introduction. That time he come over to Vietnam for short holiday. Honestly, he look very impressive! He dress very neat, smell nice, always treat my whole family to big seafood dinner—eat crab, hotpot, order beer—never even look at the bill when paying.
He tell me he work in “Logistics & Supply Chain Management” in Singapore. Because I before watch the movie Crazy Rich Asians, plus people in my hometown always gossip that Singaporean men all very rich, stay big high-rise house, drive luxury car, I think wow… my lucky day come already!
I dream that after marry him, I become tai tai. I think my daily routine will be wake up late, go Orchard Road drink fancy coffee, carry nice handbag, and afternoon go spa. So after six months long-distance relationship, I say “Yes” when he propose, and I pack my two luggage move to Singapore.
The Reality Check in HDB Flat
But guys… when I land in Changi Airport and go to his house, reality hit me like a double-decker bus.
He never take taxi, he say MRT faster. Then we reach his house—it is not a private condo with swimming pool. It is a very old 3-room HDB flat in Jurong West, corridor end, inside very dark and small. And the most shocking part? We need to stay together with his mother!
His mother (my mother-in-law) very strict and always complain. She check how much water I use to wash plate, and turn off the aircon after two hours because she say electricity bills cost many.
Then I finally discover the truth about his “Logistics Management” job. He is actually driving delivery van and doing warehouse assistant! His salary every month, after deduct CPF and pay house installment and give allowance to his mother, left almost nothing. Month end always eat instant noodles.
My New Career: Kopitiam Beer Lady
After four months, my husband sit me down at the kitchen table and say: “Wife, Singapore standard of living very high now. GST already 9%, everything expensive. You cannot just stay home do housework, you need to go out find job to help support the family.”
Because my English broken and my Vietnam degree not recognized here for office work, very hard to find professional job. Finally, the neighbor aunty intro me to work at the local downstairs coffeeshop (kopitiam) as a beer promoter lady.
Now, my dream is no more. This is my life every day:
- The Hours: Work from 4 PM to 11 PM every night, standing on hard floor until my legs swell and my back super ache.
- The Routine: Walk table to table in my beer company uniform, smile until my face tired, and ask the uncles: “Uncle, today drink Tiger or Heineken? Want ice or not?” Then I stand there pour beer into their small glass without making too much foam.
- The Customers: Some uncles very nice, give me $2 or $5 tip when they win 4D. But many uncles drink three bottles already complain very loud about government, or try to hold my hand and ask, “you so pretty why you marry that kind of husband?” Very tiring mental and physical!
My Life: Expectation vs. Reality
To summarize how different my life is from what I imagine before I came here:
The funniest and saddest part is, every week when I video call my mother and sister back in Vietnam, I must pretend I am living the best dream life. I wear nice dress for the camera, tell them Singapore very safe, very clean, very wonderful. My hometown neighbors all jealous, thinking I marry a millionaire. They don’t know after I hang up the phone, I am rubbing medicine on my sore feet and counting my 50-cent tips.
So to any foreign girls reading this: Please don’t just see a red Singapore passport and automatically think “Crazy Rich Asian”! Before you say “I do”, please ask to see CPF statement and property ownership first! Thank you for reading my broken English confession.