That En Bloc Thing Again

After going through two en bloc sales within the last three years, I feel I can make some observations of the games people play in this business of buying and selling property because of an en bloc sale.

We all know that there’ll be three parties in any en bloc sale – those who want to sell, those who don’t want to sell and those who think the potential value of the property is much higher – which is probably true, since developers are able to make a profit from redeveloping the land.

We all know that as a result squabbles, counseling, mediation and even a visit to the court to fatten the wallets of lawyers, sometimes follows.

What is not usually discussed is the level of secrecy and distrust that continues amongst members of the community from the time the en bloc sales committee gets the 80% vote to go ahead till when the last of us leaves the current property.

All of us need a place to live. A roof over our heads.

Few are so fortunate to have several properties that they can move into should they sell the one that they currently live in and cannot find another.

And this – needing to find a place

• at the best price possible
• at the best location possible (probably nearest the current area)
• while beating your neighbour at getting the property you want
• while beating your neighbour at getting the best deal
• while keeping your neighbour in the dark about what properties are available because they might elbow in on something you want.

will make your friendly neighbour become your unfriendly competitor.

In this case, the neighbour that you loved living next to and whose child yours grew up with, might not even think about discussing living near you. Or making plans to buy a home near you.

It’s each for his own.

I have to say though that in my case, thankfully, one of my neighbours is not friendly, so no loss there. And since I have only lived in this current place for three years, I don’t have any strong ties with the friendlier neighbours.

Note I say “friendlier”, not “friendly”, which shall be written about in another post.

I’m sure my friends will wonder why I am so picky between the degrees of friendliness, since I am generally an unfriendly person.

Does it make a difference in my life whether people around me are more or less friendly?

Of course it does. Even the most unfriendly of us want friendly people around us, because it generally hides our inability to be friendly even when we want to make new friends.

And so, for the last two years, unfriendly me has walked past a lot of neighbours. Possibly exchanged a nod or two with them but it’s only because of the en bloc sale that some have actually talked to me.

These conversations usually happen when I’m walking my dogs. And it’s usually with other dog owners.

There’s no preliminary talk. No “how are you?”. The dogs do that on our behalf.

Before the race for a good home and the property prices started heading up, I’d have to field questions like: “Have you started looking for a new place?”, “Are you planning to get an apartment or a house?”, “Are you going to stay around here, or are you going to move into another area?”

Knowledge is power after all. And this knowledge helps you figure out the competition.

There’s a bus stop right outside the estate. Under normal circumstances, residents stand away from each other, avoiding eye contact. Pretending that the other doesn’t exist.

Oh yes, we recognise the faces from around the estate, but we know where we stand – strangers from the same estate.

But during the last few months, they’ve come up to me to talk, as if we’ve been talking everyday. As if we’ve never committed the great bus stop sin – eyes accidentally locking in recognition and then quickly turning away. God forbid we have to talk now our eyes have met.

Primarily the same questions surface. But now that we’re in close proximity with other neighbours at this bus stop, we have to conduct our conversation in hushed tones.

There’s a lot of looking over the shoulder to see who’s within earshot. Adjustments are made if anyone is leaning in too close.

After the bus stop conversation, it’s as if an unspoken alliance has been formed.

From then on, if we ever pass each other in the estate, there’s a furtive glance – a reminder of our alliance and hopefully no one else sees it, there’s recognition, an understanding nod, perhaps even an understanding smile, even though no words are exchanged.

The understanding that means, “you’ll tell me if you’ve got a house because I’ll tell you if I have a house.”

But we’re both smarter than that. Both parties know they’ve got to keep their secrets still.

Some people act real fast. Even before the sale is confirmed, possibly delayed because some parties are trying to fight the sale, they’ve booked their houses.

These people must have savings or resources to funds via loans because no payments of this en bloc sale have been made.

But they remained tight-lipped about their new purchase. They don’t say they’ve gotten a place unless they decide to let you know. They also don’t like to reveal how much they got it for.

Rumours fly. Now everyone’s wondering who else has a new home before they’ve gotten one. (Or in our case, before we even started looking.)

There are some who have already put a down payment on their place, want to keep it a secret and yet want to find out what’s going on with you.

This I discovered on one dark but not stormy night.

I was on my way out with Sumo for his nightly half-hour to hour and a half walk – depending on how lazy I feel that day.

Then I heard a “Psst, ey!”

I turned around, but no one was near me and it was pretty dark all around in spite of the pale white light from the lamp.

I took a few steps back and looked around the bush.

From the darkness came, “Ey! You bought your house yet or not?”

I vaguely recognised the dark form. It was the bus stop lady again. I didn’t like her because she’s the type of person who tries to extract a lot of information and gives nothing in return.

She came out from the shadows. It was time for business. Discovery of secret transactions. I felt like I was in some film noir.

“Not yet. You?”

“Yah, got already.” she unwillingly admitted. “Just lah,” she quickly added. She did not want to appear as if she’d forgotten our alliance.

“Oh, congratulations. Where?”

“Sembawang.”

“Ohh! Which part?”

“Just further up lah.”

“Is it nearer Yishun or, near Sembawang Shopping Centre?”

“Err… Yishun.”

“Oh is it the estate with the shop houses in front?”

“No lah, not that one. Just houses everywhere.”

I still had no idea where. She didn’t want to describe the place. Since she had given up some information, I then told her, “Yah, my parents have made an offer for a place.” (Yes, I lied before.)

“Where?”

“Mayflower.”

“Oh we looked around there before. But expensive lah. How much is yours?”

“I dunno lah. My parents negotiated. How much was yours?”

“One point something.” Singaporeans and their decimal points. “But no need renovations. How much did your parents offer?”

“Dunno.” (Lying.)

“How big is the land area?”

“Dunno.” (Lying.)

“Bigger than here?”

“Dunno.” (Not lying.)

“Here’s about 2200 square feet right?”

“Dunno.”

“I think so.”

“How big is your new house?”

“About the same as here lah. So how much did your parents offer?”

“I dunno lah, these sort of things I dunno.”

“You young people. Yah lah, like my sons like that. Dunno what is happening.”

“Yah, I only went there to see how big my room is.”

“How big is it?”

I walked into that one. If the bedrooms are bigger than what it is now, there’s a possibility that the house is bigger as a whole.

“Bigger than your room now?”

“About the same lah.” (I’m not sure. My current one is squarish, the new one is rectangular. It’s hard to tell.)

“That’s quite big what.”

“Guess so.”

So anyway, more fishing went on. The same questions are asked in a different way.

It’s like one of those police investigations. They keep asking the same question until you give them the answer they want to hear. A confession of the truth.

But I manage to end the conversation with “Okay, I better walk my dog. He’s getting impatient.” before she digs out all the information from me. Fact is, Sumo’s so bored that he’s started to chew on loose bits of asphalt.

And that’s the way things are.

Everyone’s keeping secrets no one knows where the other is going.

In my previous condominium, some didn’t even say anything till the moving trucks came.

The fact of the matter is, most didn’t even bother saying goodbye.

Few phone numbers or addresses were exchanged. And probably soon after they were exchanged on scraps of paper, scribbled on at the last minute, they were tossed into the bin.

Everyone pretty much disappeared into the sunset.

I guess the truth of the matter is, we all never really liked each other.

I think this is the real reason en bloc sales go on. We can’t wait to get away from our neighbours. The little profit, if there is any, is just the icing on the cake.

And all the secrecy and competition? It’s so that you don’t become neighbours again.

Well, at least that’s what the lady in the shadows and my family thought. Thankfully, we have a second chance to run away from each other again.