Singaporeans living worldwide often make the same claim with exasperation and endearment that we can identify our fellow countrymen by hearing their stories before we even see them. Physically, depending on what I overhear, I’ve found the Singlish accent is both ease the homesickness or make me more sick of home.
However, a late-August job excursion to Mongolia’s land revealed a different, sure-fire way to recognize a Singaporean: They flit through the only WiFi area while waving like a drowning.  ,
To be specific, I was one of the unfortunate souls searching for Wi-Fi at the Mongol Nomadic Camp after travelling about 55km from Mongolia’s money Ulaanbaatar, during which my website accessibility gradually faded into oblivion.  ,
A partner and I were in the area to watch the premiere of Mongolia’s second international theater manufacturing, The Mongol Khan, before it arrives in Singapore later this month. We had seen the play the night before, so I hoped that learning about nomadic life personally, even in a well-known tourist destination, would help us appreciate the rich Mongol culture that is prominently displayed in the play.
Alas, I am but a Malaysian young. It seemed irrelevant that I would be spending just one day at the station, which had little to no mobile reception, let alone a data connection, before moving on to a five-star hotel in the city. Not to mention that I had long desired to see in person the beautiful landscape of the coastal South Asian nation.  ,