Why do people brave the elements to be at ZoukOut every year?
PHIN WONG realises that it's a matter of national pride
Today Online 11 Dec 07;
I am not what you might call an "outdoorsy" person.
Some people love the feel of sand between their toes and the wind blowing in their hair. I would rather my toes stay in my shoes, while a gentle breeze from an air-conditioning unit rustles my hair a tad.
Yet, year after year, I find myself choosing to battle our dastardly humid climate on a beach in Sentosa for ZoukOut. Why would someone allergic to Mother Nature and her allergen-filled arsenal willingly put himself in the middle of harm's way? It just doesn't add up.
My mother doesn't get it either. And judging by her recent adventures in whittling down price tags in Bangkok, she's really good at math.
Having read sordid reports splashed across the papers about the drunken shenanigans that happened at last Saturday's ZoukOut at Siloso beach, she wondered aloud — in the patented Chinese-mother style that elicits immediate guilt from anyone listening — why anybody would attend such a hedonistic event filled with booze, skin and public make-out sessions.
Even though I had groped only my plastic cup of vodka, I was immediately cloaked with guilt from having shamed my entire clan just being at the scene of the crime, sandy evidence still caked in the rubber crevices of my soles.
I reassured her the sin reports were exaggerated and that I didn't witness any more amorous frolicking than one would see at an 18-year-old's all-night soiree at an East Coast park chalet. "Still," she tsk-ed, signalling more guilt ahead, "Fun, meh?"
Ordinarily, I would never entertain the thought of slumming it outdoors with a cargo-load of strangers. More than 23,000 people showed up on Saturday — an all-time attendance high. That's 3,000 more sweaty bodies that transferred their cooties to me compared to last year.
There were drunk louts getting on the general public's collective nerves and random young people vomiting on trees and other unfortunate foliage.
And let's not forget the attention-seeking girls in their attention-seeking bikinis and cheap shoes — chest out, stomach in, and intelligence bared naked for all to see by wearing high heels at the beach.
And I had a blast.
It took what could be the end of ZoukOut as we know it to make me understand why I've been venturing out of my comfort zone of walls, a roof and an artificially enhanced climate all these years. Because the party might have to move to the city due to the rapid development of Sentosa, "ZoukOut as we know it might never be the same," said Zouk marketing manager Tracy Phillips.
So, maybe it was with these fresh eyes that had just received bad news that I saw my epiphany. I haven't been showing up at ZoukOut every year because of the music. No, I'm a little more rock 'n' roll than I am into the bleeps and blips of electronic music. Neither had I shown up to "be seen". Trust me, I'd rather be seen dry and smelling of roses. I have stuck it out every ZoukOut because it actually stirs up some nationalistic pride.
Check out this party on my beach, on my tourist-bait of an island, in my country.
Last year, more than 7,000 people flew in from the rest of the world to party in my home — yes, my home known more around the world for our ban on chewing gum than having fun. Saturday's figures haven't been released yet, but it sure looked like the party tourists came to pay a visit again.
We've got a lot to be proud about in Singapore, but a lot of it has to do with science and numbers and buildings and things. You can't love a bio-hub, or take a picture of a low crime-rate and post it on your blog. ZoukOut has a heartbeat. You can touch, smell and taste it. It lives on in silly digital photos snapped on mobile phones and, more important, in memory, which is a lot more than a statistic can do — no matter how spiffy your pie charts.
I'm going to miss ZoukOut as we know it. I like it on the beach. I know it's just Sentosa, but it feels like escapism. Having it in an urban environment will just remind me of the work waiting for me tomorrow. Though there is a certain consolation knowing that I was there all those years when ZoukOut was a beach party before it becomes Swing Singapore 2008 — you can't put a price on bragging rights.
Also, if ZoukOut leaves the beach, I can't be blamed for no longer venturing outside to play in Mother Nature's garden of bugs and humidity. It's the IRs' fault coming in and cutting the beach in half. I am the first victim of legalised gambling.
That's my story and I'm sticking with it.
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