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Every day from 2011 to 2020, as my classmates snoozed their alarms at six in the morning, I was already halfway across the Causeway.
Having spent nearly a decade commuting between Johor Bahru (JB) and Singapore, the Causeway feels like it’s been part of me for half my life.
On June 28, the National Heritage Board launched their new exhibition celebrating the 100th anniversary of this iconic road. Heading back across the Causeway to attend the launch event brought so many memories back, both good and bad.
I realised that this centennial anniversary is a monumental milestone for myself, and many others like me.
Born in Penang, I moved to JB with my family when I was three years old. My parents later enrolled me in Woodlands Primary School. We knew people who had also enrolled their kids there and had heard positive things about it.
I had to wake up at 4am each morning to reach school in Singapore on time. I clocked an average of four hours of sleep a night — five if I was lucky.
Every morning at 4.15am, a hired school van would pick me and my fellow peers up to cross the border into Singapore. I would arrive at school by 6.30am, and attend classes from 7.30am to 3.45pm.
There were many days where I’d struggle to stay awake, but my teachers were understanding enough to let it slide most of the time.
Like every other student in Singapore, my after-school schedule consisted of co-curricular activities or extra classes until 6pm.
When I was done, the van would pick me up and shuttle me back across the Causeway to JB. Returning home by 8pm, my evening routine included dinner, a shower, and homework before lights out at around 11.30pm.
The demands of the four-hour daily commute across countries left me drained both mentally and physically. Other kids spent their weekends going out to do fun things with friends; mine were spent recuperating and catching up with my family.
But through this gruelling daily grind, I learnt and gained a lot.
Being away from my parents for extended periods of time from such a young age, a strong sense of independence was naturally fostered in me. I learnt to manage my own schedule and deal with challenges on my own. It taught me to be decisive, and to take charge of my own life.
Perseverance was another trait I took away from those long commutes and the relentless routine.
There were many days where I felt like giving up. So many mornings, I wanted to skip school and sleep in — but I would remember how much my parents sacrificed for me to have the opportunity to study in Singapore, and I would push myself to get out of bed.
The van became a home of sorts.
We traded stories about school, played games, and shared snacks. Travelling with the same peers five days a week, four hours a day, for years on end is plenty of time to bond.
We often befriended our drivers too! We forged close relationships with them, passing the time during our long commutes by joking and gossiping.
One driver doubled as a snack vendor — his vehicle was always stocked with tidbits and soft drinks we could buy on board. We’d whisper and giggle about how we hoped he would be our assigned driver.
One of my favourite childhood memories is hanging out at Causeway Point with my van buddies.
On Fridays, school usually let out slightly earlier. We’d go down to Causeway Point for some shopping before buying some food and travelling over to Woodlands Checkpoint. We’d find a quiet corner and sit on the floor, bonding over our food while waiting for the van to pick us up.
Looking back, it’s always the small, mundane moments like these that really made the demanding travel worth it.
These friendships have stood the test of time too. I’m still in touch with my fellow Causeway crossers today — some of whom have returned to Malaysia while others remained in Singapore.
I sometimes go back to JB during weekends to meet up with them when I can, and they plan short trips to visit me in Kuala Lumpur, where I’m now based. Outside of these quick catch-ups, we keep in contact through calls or texts.
It’s truly a unique community built upon the shared joys and pains of thousands of hours spent crossing borders at the crack of each dawn and fall of each dusk.
For me, being a “Causeway kid” came with other unique struggles — the biggest of which was the lack of a strong national identity.
Stuck between two countries, I felt like part of both but neither fully. Having spent most of my formative, schooling years in Singapore meant that I could not fully relate to my friends and relatives in Malaysia. But, being Malaysian, I could never call myself a Singaporean either.
Singapore and Malaysia have similar cultures, but there were nuances that I struggled with. This disparity became apparent when I came back to Malaysia for college.
I found it difficult to relate to stories and references from my Malaysian peers’ high school days. I couldn’t shake the automatic impulse to call McDonald’s “Macs” instead of “Mekdi”. I had to give myself a lot of time to get in touch with Malaysian cultural nuances.
Every time I introduce myself to new people, they always seem perplexed about my background. I frequently get asked certain awkward questions: “How come you don’t have a Singapore accent?” “Is the ‘kiasu Singaporean’ stereotype true?”
Even now, I don’t quite know how to answer questions like these.
All that said, I wouldn’t change a thing. The 10 years I spent crossing the border to attend school in Singapore has shaped me into the person I am today, just as much as the time spent in actual classrooms.
I’ve learnt a lot about independence and resilience, and I will always hold the friendships I’ve forged close to me. The Causeway will always be a huge part of my story, as it is for many other Malaysians and Singaporeans alike — and I’m grateful for how it continues to connect my lives on both ends of it.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Isabel Chang, 20, is majoring in public relations at Taylor’s University, Subang Jaya. She also enjoys writing and travelling.