Mind your manners Singapore

Earlier tonight, an elderly waitress accidentally spilled a pot of boiling tea on me, those industrial tall hot flask. I went from feeling sleepy to instantly wide awake. The burn stung, my dress was soaked, and I had to step away quietly to the toilet to ice my back. It hurt, but I never raised my voice. I have put effort to doll up but im wet and in pain.

She was visibly shaken, apologising profusely throughout the night. “If it were other customers, they would’ve scolded me or made a scene,” she said with teary eyes. “You didn’t say a word. You just kept saying you knew it was an accident. This has never happened before. I feel so guilty.”

I simply patted her arm and said gently, “It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean it. Just be careful next time.” And she kept serving our table earnestly the whole evening, still bowing and apologising now and then.

Our family guests at our table turned to me and said, “You’re such a well-mannered lady,” and gave me a look of warm approval. His wife smiled, patted my arm, and said, “You’re so calm and sweet.” I addressed them softly: “It’s just an accident. She’s elderly, still working hard—it must be exhausting for her.” I protected the dignity of the elderly waitress which is highly valuable to the chinese. My family guest held my hand beaming warmly. Both my auntie also turn to me and said we should meet up more and pat my arm affectionately.

Being brought up by a taiwanese mom, we are taught differently: we value restraint over reaction, harmony over dominance, and subtlety over showmanship. From the moment we sit down at the table, we serve the guest first, invite them to take the first and last piece, and quietly refill their tea, this delicate dance shows that we value their presence.

When I got home and lifted my clothes, my mum gasped, “Oh my goodness, you’re actually burnt!” She seem more upset than i am. I shrugged and smiled, “I’m okay. I’m going to the gym anyway—you can help me apply more cream after.” She looked at me, half-exasperated, half-amused: “You’re mad.”

But she still said, “Come to my room later, I’ll help you apply more before bed.”

I don’t believe in scolding someone for an honest mistake. It’s like a mother cursing a child for spilling milk—what’s the point? We had guests, and dignity had to be kept.

Tonight tested me. Not my tolerance for pain, but my ability to stay kind when uncomfortable and not lash out like most people would do. Sometimes, people think status is about wearing labels or speaking well. But true grace is in restraint.

I’m sharing this because Since returning to Singapore after spending years abroad, I’ve been observing things with fresh eyes and one recurring theme has quietly unsettled me.

Many people here are impeccably dressed hermes , gucci, ferragamo head to toe, articulate, and polished on the surface. They carry the air of success and sophistication. But in public spaces cafés, restaurants, supermarkets. I often witness behavior that sharply contradicts that exterior: loud complaints, entitlement, scolding service staff as if they’re beneath them, or throwing tantrums over the smallest inconvenience.

And I wonder: if they could see themselves from a third-person view, would they cringe?