Business Times 29 Dec 07
The residents of Seletar Camp have recently been living with the knowledge that progress has finally caught up with their suburb, reports GEOFFREY EU
WITH its narrow country lanes, quaint English road names, simple single-storey colonial-era houses and verdant scenery with not a single high-rise in sight, Seletar Camp is the antithesis of modern Singapore - a leafy northern suburb caught in a time warp and a throwback to an age where the relaxed pace allows residents to sit back and enjoy the ordinary things in life.
For Singaporeans of a certain vintage, a drive through this former Royal Air Force base-turned-military camp will trigger fond childhood memories and lead to a greater understanding of why the residents who occupy over 200 houses in the estate are so passionate about protecting that way of life.
Many other properties are either empty as leases end or occupied by aerospace companies that service the adjoining Seletar Airport.
For the past year and a half, the residents of Seletar Camp - which was first built in the 1920s to house Royal Air Force personnel - have been living with the knowledge that progress has finally caught up with their part of the world, and just like the Dempsey Road and Portsdown Road camps before it, the rhythm of life as they know it will eventually be very different.
The government-owned area is due to be turned into an aerospace hub within the next several years - complete with F&B outlets, of course - and infrastructure work has already commenced, with the roads around Seletar heavy with daily lorry traffic.
The nine-hole public golf course in the estate has already been closed, its fairways slated to make way for a runway extension project.
Like a sleepy village
Residents like G Gobinathan represent the last pockets of resistance at Seletar Camp, where the residential community is akin to a sleepy village where everyone knows each other. Although he is relatively new to the estate - some residents have been there for two decades or more - he is vociferous in support of the lifestyle it represents.
His tidy three-bedroom semi-detached house, complete with spacious back garden, is located on a small lane with the atypical name of Regent Street - Hay Market, Edgeware Road and yes, Oxford Street are all nearby - and the area resembles nothing so much as a quiet English suburb, with dogs in the yard and children playing in the street.
Mr Gobinathan, his wife Annie and three children - Anthony, 14; Harry, 11; and Geoffrey, 7 - moved here from his family home in Upper Thompson Road just over a year ago, and they couldn't be happier.
'I used to have cousins living around here and I always wanted to live here because it's rather quaint,' says Mr Gobinathan, a qualified accountant who spent 15 years working in Europe and who is now the chief operating officer of a Singapore-based company that manufactures shelving for supermarkets.
'Here, you can hear the birds singing. It's also a fact that my kids don't fall ill so frequently because there's so much nature and greenery around,' he says. 'The neighbours are very friendly and our front doors are always open - it's very village-like.'
Despite the proximity to the airport, the air traffic is minimal, he says, especially since the activity is restricted to small jets and single-engine private planes.
Vanishing scenery
'Within the next five years, massive change is going to happen here, with many houses slated to be demolished, while some will be converted to restaurants and bars and workshops for the aircraft industry,' says Mr Gobinathan. 'All this beautiful scenery is going to disappear - of course there will be landscaping of whatever is left, but the whole area will still be more industrialised.'
Not surprisingly, Mr Gobinathan and his fellow residents are not too happy about the impending changes.
A loose-knit residents' committee met government representatives about preserving the area - to no avail - earlier this year, and even non-residents were moved to support. A short documentary by Li Xiuqi, titled Seletar Airbase: Singapore's Secret Garden, also helped to publicise the plight of the people living there.
At present, the rural atmosphere is akin to living in the countryside, notes Mr Gobinathan. 'Too much change is not good,' he feels. 'This place reminds us of the history of Singapore and gives people an opportunity for people to experience living with nature - modernising this place is not really necessary.'
This is the kind of neighbourhood where sitting on the patio and greeting people as they walk past is a daily ritual.
At one time, there were even no fences between houses. Residents include retired professionals, businessmen and expatriates keen for a reminder of the home country.
Mr Gobinathan, whose wife is from Ajaccio, a small town in Corsica, says there are hints of Europe in Seletar Camp.
'The place where she comes from is as quaint as this,' he points out. 'We both love the countryside and working in the garden.'
'Living here, there is a sense of security, even though all the doors are always open. There's a feeling of extended community, and my friends drop by unannounced for a drink because they look forward to coming here for a feel of nature and the environment. You just feel happy over here,' he says.
'It's rare that this kind of living is available to the average person - not many people can sit out on the patio and enjoy this kind of view,' he adds.
As a young boy, Mr Gobinathan had a fascination for flying, but his father refused to allow him to fly. 'Now, I tell my kids that at least daddy lives next to an airport,' he says.
The greenery, low-rise housing and being in a rural environment help to make Seletar Camp the ultimate countryside estate - a rare instance of true suburbia in Singapore. It's a place where living extends well beyond the walls of your house.
Mr Gobinathan waves an arm at the green expanse beyond his front gate. 'These old trees are the lungs of the earth - but they're all going to go.'
