20th anniversary of the Semakau Landfill

10 December 2019. 12 noon. NEA Environment Building.

I stepped out of Newton MRT station with that same rush of excitement spilling through my veins. Turn right. Pass the toilet. Walk straight. Straight again. Adults brushed past me jauntily as they headed for lunch break, their lanyards swinging jauntily in rhythm. I put on a straight, emotionless face that I constantly felt like ripping away. Each time I walked here I felt like I had instantly transformed from a scrawny, immature teenager into a smart, no-nonsense, professional. It was special.

Many people were already standing in groups, their laughter and chatter spilling all over and around. But there was no one I knew. I had come to represent Plastic-Lite Singapore, by myself, at the grand event of the 20th anniversary of Semakau Landfill. I stood alone, far away from the throngs of people and perform the teenager trick of tapping away at my phone busily. I desperately hoped someone would come - but no. Poor me. No one wanted to talk to this small cold hostile-looking girl.

12.30pm.

As we moved closer to board the bus, a girl who looks vaguely familiar comes up to say hi. Ah, she says, we met before, remember? She grins at me warmly and I force a smile back, because my stomach is still bursting with grumps and self-pity. Be nice, I pinch myself, which makes me force a bigger smile. She introduces herself as Elisa and confirms my name - Ter-eese? NO! ..sorry - and we sit together on the bus.

The bus is musty and slightly overwhelmed with cigarette smoke, undermining my attempts to be cheery and compounding the sticky dreadful feeling inside of me. It was going to be a long ride to Pasir Panjang Ferry Terminal.

Throughout the bus ride Elisa chatted with me about the green movement and what I do and what she does and all that. Then I also told her it's frustrating we still don't have taxes and more legislation to step in. She replied that ground-up movement is more effective, and that carbon taxes were burdensome on small businesses. And the harms of a plastic bag tax. I was kind of surprised.

I told her small businesses were exempted from carbon taxes in Europe and in Singapore. And under our new Resource Sustainability Act, small businesses will be exempted from the Extended Producer Responsibility Scheme. For others, costs must be borne. It's painfully naive to think that the whole nation can transform to become more environmentally conscious with a few more years, a few more posters and campaigns. You can transform a few that way, but that's all you get. Meanwhile we're knowingly sliding ourselves into a manmade disaster.

I tell her why I say this. I tell her about my family and how I am the lone environment lover. I tell her how some will flinch if you go on too long about the environment (that is, more than a minute). How people get annoyed at you for getting annoyed at them for not caring enough to bring a lunchbox when you reminded them five times. Or if they buy a bottled drink. Or if they take extra of those plastic bags with holes in a rectangle that are difficult to reuse to line the bin. In short, it's difficult for people to care enough about the environment even if they know the harms they are doing.

Because laws don't reflect the severity of the problem.

If there was a law it would mean Singapore has a serious problem. And people need to take responsibility for their share of the pollution. Those that don't pollute so much are rewarded. Those that originally just pollute because they can will try to cut it down to a minimum.

Elisa tries to comfort me when I tell her about my family's habits. "Slowly, slowly. Overtime will change," she says. I smiled bitterly? sadly? forcibly? and say that overtime is basically another twenty years. Maybe never. I didn't really feel like talking much after that. I thought it was a pretty naive idea, this idea of transforming everyone.

We waited at the Terminal until the Guest-Of-Honour Dr Amy Khor, arrived. Then a young lady approached me. Her name was Cara; she was from Green Nudge. What about me, she asked. I introduced myself, pleasantly surprised at how simple and easy it was to make new friends. I chatted with her up the ferry and sat next to her, together with another Green Nudge guy.

The ferry was equally as bad as the bus; this time it was choked with diesel fumes. Maybe it was especially intense because I was sitting near the rear end. I made a mental note to sit in the very front the next time round. I thought what if I did the Greta Thunberg-thing of refusing to board the boat because it was diesel-powered and full of toxic chemicals. But of course I didn't go on ranting about it, because today is supposed to be a happy day.

When we alighted the boat onto another island it was raining, but that's no matter because there was a human chain of people holding umbrellas to shelter all of us. :-) Then the emcee boomed into the microphone and called Senior Minister Dr Amy Khor to come up on stage please. He kept referring to her as SMS which I thought was kind of funny and weird.

SMS gave her speech. I liked the part where she introduced the history of Semakau Landfill and its conception, and also shared with us about the two old landfills we had prior to Semakau. I was proud of the engineers who conceived it and made it work twenty years ago. Then she concluded with the platitude: "However, the Government’s efforts alone will not be enough". For all its truth, the government still does have a major role in curbing excessive, unnecessary waste. People's thinking are shaped by government policies.

A three-dimensional infographic of Semakau landfill was briefly flashed onscreen after that. I found it SO COOL. But it was said to be online (I couldn't find it though) and so we weren't able to bask fully in this ingenious creation.

Next onstage came a large cake, a miniature of Semakau Landfill. Its sides were washed with blue cream, with the same rugged surface of ocean currents. The island had a brown hue, peppered with trees that reflected a gradient of green. It was the sort of cake that made you squeal in unceasing wonder, and never want to eat it. (How the cake looks like!)

Before I could think of the best way to cut the cake without actually cutting it up, the emcee started sorting us based on the sticker we were given at registration. There were two buses and one minivan for the Semakau tour, and I was placed into the van. I was really lucky to be in the van, because there were just five of us guests inside, and in such an enclosed setting everyone felt free to ask questions.

The NEA officer with us was really friendly as well. Each time we chugged past a certain area he dived into its history and current-day story. A few minutes into the ride we entered into a dark area with mountains of ash, and trucks with gigantic wheels- "one point eight metres tall!"- lumbered past with heapfuls of ash.

He pointed to us some areas that were teeming with life, and how it had been untouched by man - the flowers and grasslands that sprouted were entirely a work of nature. "Birds come to deposit seeds here," he laughed. Sometimes the ground was covered with ash, then a later of topsoil deposited on top again and the life cycle begins all over. We chugged past everything all too quickly; the quick seconds never really doing justice to the many years of hard work, invested by nature and man alike.

Our first stop on the islet was a little beach. Rocks sit regally to form a gentle talus slope, which gradually guides one to the sea.​ Birds cooed and cawed as they soared around the place. And when the wind gurgled as it splashed through my hair I knew I had come to Eden. We soaked in this raw beauty for a moment. Then someone said there was a kind of sour smell wafting about somewhere. All of us laughed nervously but none of us were sure.

Another NEA official, who had been in the same van as us, came up to share with us a little more. We learnt more about non-incinerated waste and incinerated waste, about the careful way NEA has to monitor the water level, to ensure it doesn't rise by too much in order to prevent flooding. He discussed Phase I and Phase II of Semakau Landfill. And to our surprise, he also shared about how fishes were 'transplanted' out of the offshore landfill space in order to preserve them as well.

I really liked this gentle way of waste management, this fretting over every species, every space, every life.

We got back into the van and chugged away, with a mixture of resentment that we had to leave all too soon, but eager to explore the other beauties of this tiny island. At one point we saw fish farms, managed by AVA, for exporting overseas. (I'm not sure if they are supplied to local supermarkets as well because the officer didn't mention that, but I guess they should be as well.) We laughed at this random and ingenious and crazy idea.

Then we passed through solar and wind farms. At this point, the Indian man in the van who had been silent for most of the journey began to talk animatedly. These were managed by NTU's Energy Research Institute; he was part of that team.

They were piloting and test bedding solar PV panels and wind turbines, and planning to export the energy to nearby poorer communities in neighbouring countries. To power 200 to 300 homes. I thought that was fascinating.

And of course any talk on renewable energy always should be accompanied by exploring the possibility of shifting from fossils to renewables. So I tested: "Do you think it's possible that Singapore might be able to achieve 100% renewable energy?"

"Um no way. I think - "

"How about fifty percent?" I butted in hopefully.

He laughed and shook his head. There were many limitations, and our energy grid is not built that way. He says NTU is aiming for a more realistic goal of thirty percent. And he's an engineer. Got his Master's degree (from NUS). I'm a teenager. Got my A and O levels done.

I asked why there were no wind turbines on the mainland. We can always add them to the roof of buildings. That way there shouldn't be a shortage of wind. He replied that it would add too much weight to the building and that would be dangerous. Ah. Why are they so heavy?

Then we discussed solar panels. The more we learnt the more our moods dampened. Solar panels have an average lifespan of fifteen years. Yes, you can recycle, but its efficiency grinds down by a whopping sixty percent.

Please get better solar panels Singapore needs you!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After that, we alighted from the bus and entered into an air-conditioned small building. An NEA engineer, Mr Eng, who had been involved in the construction of Semakau Landfill was exchanging conversation with Dr Khor, around a model of Semakau in a glass enclosed table. He told us how they must compensate for the loss of the mangroves - "NParks would not let us off easy!"- and the difficulty of keeping in mind their demands like right pH and right soil (no, old and new soil are not the same).

NParks made them measure the area of mangroves to be sacrificed - a precise 11.6 hectares, Mr Eng recalls, laughing. They had to regrow the same area around the landfill. And that was still not enough - there were people sent to analyze all the different species of mangroves present in the original area. Nine saplings, bought from Indonesia, one per square metre.

Eventually the mangroves thrived so much that it threw off the initial intention to have neat, nice straight rows of mangroves. And because the sea area designated for incinerated ash was left untouched, corals began to grow. And so NParks volunteers transferred the corals to a separate area.

Tea time! Dry laksa. Eclair. Samosa. Chee cheong fun. Fruits. Cake (it turned out to have a green, pandan-flavoured interior.) I'm glad the meat had been scaled down to close to zero, and all the cutlery were reusables! I ate and stood by myself at the standing tables. I felt awkward and out of place, so after a while I went up to the Indian man who had been in the same van as me and wasn't really talking to anyone. We talked briefly about solar panels and renewable energy, but unfortunately I forgot anything significant to put down here.

Soon it was time to board the ferry again. I got inside and made a beeline for the front seats, but there was still a stinky smell wafting in the air. I opened my book and struck a nonchalant reading pose, but nothing was really going into my head.

Later, as the very last few people boarded the boat, there wasn't enough seats so an NEA officer plopped down next to me. A sense of that professionalism I felt hours ago, precisely at 12 o' clock, surged through me. He didn't seem very friendly, because he didn't say hi when I looked at him. He just tapped away at his camera, so I just read my book. Or at least tried to. Then the boat engine began grumbling and the boat began to lurch forward into acceleration, and I knew I might get seasick reading so I stared out into the window into the sea.

Before you conceive any romantic, Moana-like, images and had a tinge of jealousy when I mentioned "the sea", it was nothing like that at all. There was a greyish tinge to the water, and the horizon lacked that boundless feel to it.

The waters proximal to the boat were empty, but as you looked out to the horizon you could see it cluttered will countless containers and ships. In a country where factories have been pushed to the corners, it was pretty novel to see ships with smokestacks churning white smoke twenty four seven. I had mostly come across these smokestacks in newspaper articles lambasting coal, and had always assumed that Singapore had left any of such pollutive equipment behind in history. Now it was larger than life, having emerged out of paper into reality. I found it hard to believe.

But what confounded me most was the mysterious white containers. There was a plentiful range of them: Large. Small. Some with numerical coded language. Some with nothing at all. I wondered if the NEA officer could explain to me about it, since it wasn't likely that they would travel to the sea everyday. I drew a deep breath. "Excuse me? Can I ask you a question?"

He lifted his face from his phone and smiled. And so we talked. Those white containers contain oil. Crude oil. Singapore doesn't do drilling - we provide technology to help with the drilling. The ships contain cargo and other goods. Maybe some oil too. Oil powers our economy. Oh, I see. Thanks. Pause. But why are they churning so much smoke? Are they subjected to Singapore's pollution laws?

He thinks hard and long. No, he finally says. But he tells me of some ships that are subjected to pollution laws in Singapore, to make me feel better, but I am not sure which and what he means. Then it's his turn to throw me questions. Which school are you from? How old are you? What are you doing now? I answer them absent-mindedly, partly because they're easy to answer and partly also because my stomach is sloshing at the thought of these ships possibly polluting unknown substances on our waters, our territory. Maybe he asked other questions too, but I can't remember because I wanted to ask him more questions on other things.

I complained why were some important frameworks made only voluntary, such as the National Voluntary Partnership for E-Waste Recycling. I remembered on their website, there were so few companies participating: like a single meagre Toshiba Group under the hierarchy of "Companies". He explains that's because they had already been working on the Extended Producer Responsibility scheme for ewaste for a long time, and it would not make sense to pass so many legislations at once.

I was overjoyed to hear that. That all along, they had been planning something grander and bigger and better. What about plastic packaging, I wonder. Yes, he says, there will be something similar for that. My heart warmed. It felt like one of the ten burdens on my mind had just melted away. I eagerly ask him about Pay As You Throw. It's a perfect idea, I tell him, and he shakes his head. The public didn't like it.

I read the comments on Pay As You Throw later. The sharp insults of some netizens cut me, and I sieved through them to understand why people were so enraged. After all, it has worked in not just the frequently mentioned South Korea, but also in Belgium, Luxembourg, Denmark, the Netherlands, Switzerland and Italy. But Pay-As-You-Throw schemes in these countries are also carefully accompanied by other schemes, which makes them work. I will evaluate this in another post.

On my way back I spotted Cara sitting alone on the bus, so I went to join her. It turned out to be an exciting conversation, with her sharing her Green Nudge journey and experiences, and with me sharing of my dreams. She talks about Green Nudge's founder, of his community farm, of her homey experiences at Kampong Gui, and introduces me to Tyre Lady. Then we discussed eco-anxiety.

I was bubbling over​ with excitement when we finally departed at the MRT. There were so many opportunities and so much work that needed to be done I was confused where to start. But I had great appreciation for all the work that green groups, whether affliated to the government or not, have done. I must do more. I must do my part.

Cover photo: Figure 6 from NEA website: https://www.nea.gov.sg/media/news/news/index/celebrating-20-years-of-semakau-landfill