Maria Shchedrina lives in Singapore, speaks eight languages, and is the author of a Ukrainian textbook for bilingual children. A summary of I’m Just Asking! рodcast

I have three phases in my life: Ukrainian, German, and Singaporean. I obtained my first Master’s degree at the Cherkasy State Technological University. Just four months later, I moved to Germany, where I got a Master’s degree in Comparative Linguistics. There, we studied how languages evolved, their origins history, and how to compare them. If a manuscript in an unknown language is found during archaeological excavations, these specialists will be able to interpret it.

I happily started learning my first foreign languages at the age of four, seven, and nine. When I was four, my mother went to Egypt and was so embarrassed that she didn’t speak English that she made a decision: her daughter absolutely must know the language. Once she returned to Ukraine, she found me a tutor.

When I was seven, my parents sent me to Spain. They believed everyone in Europe knew English, but the family I stayed with for 40 days didn’t speak it at all. So, I soaked Spanish words and phrases up like a sponge. Upon my return, I was able to speak Spanish fluently on the phone. My parents were so stunned that they even invited a teacher to check if I was just making the words up. She confirmed that I was speaking correctly and advised me to continue my studies.

When I was nine, I had to choose a third foreign language at the gymnasium. I settled on Japanese but I have only used it twice in my life — during my trips to Japan.

I studied at one of the oldest gymnasiums in Ukraine. Its motto is “The First is always the first.” Even under Soviet and Imperial pressure, Ukrainian continued to be learned and taught there. It’s difficult to explain to foreigners that teaching in Ukrainian was a rarity in those days. I was born in 1991, when Ukraine regained its independence, and the gymnasium’s teachers constantly emphasized that we were the first generation of independent Ukrainians, that we should be educated and know many foreign languages, because we represented Ukraine in the world.

By the time I finished my Master’s degree, I knew five foreign languages (I had also learned German and French at university). Then, at the Faculty of Linguistics in Frankfurt, I started learning Church Slavonic and Ancient Greek, but I don’t count these languages as they are dead. I had also been learning Modern Greek for two years, but I don’t practice it, and it’s mostly forgotten now.

I started my main career in Singapore. While studying linguistics in Ukraine, I worked as an English and Spanish teacher, and as a translator on a TV project in Argentina. I arrived in Singapore for a six-month internship at a German school in December 2016, and I didn’t expect to stay here. I fell in love with Singapore, and I wanted to hold on to that feeling. So, I started looking for a job. At first, I taught Ukrainian and Russian at a language school and, in the meantime, German at the National University of Singapore. I had been working like that for four years until the non-stop work drove me crazy. I changed jobs, as I moved to Nanyang Polytechnic. I have been teaching German here for five years now, as well as Gender Inequality and Sexual Offenses — I took additional courses in Singapore for that.

It’s hard to get in here and obtain a work permit, but I was lucky. In Frankfurt, I was constantly sick, tired of the grey days, and wanted to relocate. One day, I watched a travel show about Singapore, got inspired, and decided to look for a position there. That was on Sunday. By Monday, I had found an advertisement for a German language trainee-teacher who was a student at a German university — it happened to be my last semester of study. I applied, and two weeks later I received a visa. I only sent one resume, not even realizing that others were sending hundreds to get here.

There are four official languages here: English, Chinese, Malay, and Tamil (the language of southern India where the Tamils live). The only national language is Malay, after all, Singapore was once a part of Malaysia. I only communicate in English, as everyone here, from children to the elderly, knows it well, so there was no need to learn other languages.

Singapore is a country that became independent not because it wanted to. It’s just that in 1965, Malaysia said that Singapore was too problematic and refused to govern the island any further. Singapore’s then-Prime Minister, Lee Kuan Yew, announced Singapore’s independence on television. He cried during the live broadcast. Now, 60 years later, it is one of the world’s leading countries.

I knew that Singapore was a country of rules, and that didn’t scare me away. I love order and I felt comfortable even in structured Germany, so I easily accepted the local norms. There are indeed many fines in Singapore: for feeding pigeons, playing loud music on the street, making graffiti, unauthorized connection to Wi-Fi, or even nudity at home. The chewing gum trade is prohibited; dental gum can be purchased only with a prescription. E-cigarettes are equated to drugs, and their sale is punishable by the death penalty.

Nudity in your own apartment is considered a violation if you can be seen from the street. Singapore is multicultural: Chinese, Malays, and Tamils who live here are representatives of various religions, so public order rules are strict. Houses are close to each other, and anyone can accidentally see their neighbors. If this is recorded on video, they can file a complaint with the police.

The fine may be 500 Singapore Dollars (SGD). Only local currency is used here — there is no habit of converting to other currencies. The amount depends on the circumstances and whether it is the first violation. Repeated offenses can lead to imprisonment or caning.

The crime rate here is very low, and the cost of living is one of the highest. This is an incredibly safe country with a huge number of cameras. To reserve a seat in a cafe or public spaces, many people leave their wallets and phones, and you don’t have to worry about them being stolen. Singaporeans are kind, don’t wish anyone harm, and won’t do anything bad — perhaps this is because of the large number of fines and the fear of punishment or imprisonment.

Foreigners in Singapore pay 65% more when purchasing real estate. If an apartment in a condominium costs 1 million SGD, you will have to pay another 650,000 SGD to the state just because of your foreign status. Buyers with Permanent Resident (PR) status do not pay this tax. There are no additional taxes on rentals. The rental cost depends on the district, but a one-bedroom apartment usually costs 4,000–5,000 SGD per month.

Singapore avoids social tensions, controls the ratio between ethnic groups, permanent residents, and foreigners. It is believed that if one nationality receives a larger quota for residency, there will be an imbalance. The government considers applications for Permanent Resident status for months and does not disclose the selection criteria, so the process is like a lottery. Even wealthy or highly skilled candidates are sometimes rejected without explanation. PR status here is more of a privilege than a right: quotas are limited, and tens of thousands of applications are received every year. Singapore often deliberately rejects applications for the first 3-5 years to test your motivation. Priority is given to applicants with high qualifications, stable income, and a long-term contract. Investors who inject 10–20 million SGD can obtain PR after fulfilling investment requirements.

If your contract ends or you are fired, you must leave Singapore within a month, sometimes within two. Due to this requirement, many of my friends have left the country. In the allotted time, a person has the right to find another job; in that case, they change their visa and stay.

Statistics by nationality are not published here. When the Ukrainian Embassy asked the Singapore Ministry of Foreign Affairs about the number of Ukrainians in the country, it refused, citing privacy concerns. According to press estimates, there are about 500–800 Ukrainians living in Singapore. There is an active Ukrainian community and club here; they regularly organize film screenings, exhibitions, and charity fundraising.

In Singapore, demonstrations are allowed only if held without flags, slogans, or placards. Public gatherings are strictly regulated. Police permission is required for rallies and marches, and sensitive topics are not permitted. Foreign flags are displayed only on embassy buildings, so the Ukrainian flag is seen only in Raffles Place. If I hang a Ukrainian flag from my balcony, I will be arrested because it is forbidden.

The Singaporean principle of Kiasu can be called a state-level perfectionism. “Kiasu” is a word from the Hokkien language, which belongs to the Chinese language family, and literally means “to squeeze the maximum out of everything.” In Singapore, this principle is deeply rooted: the country constantly competes with others, striving to be the best. This is not always healthy, but this culture drives society forward. Singapore carefully watches what is being created in Hong Kong or Dubai and tries to do even better. This is achieved by about 5–6 million locals and approximately 1.5 million expats. The government openly admits that the country needs foreign specialists, as its own human resources are insufficient.

The pressure of Kiasu is felt both in society and at work. When departments plan the year, every employee has many tasks and projects — everyone strives to improve so that their department is among the best. This encourages people to work harder because it is the institution’s policy. Even when talking to friends, unintentional comparisons arise: who traveled where, what they could afford. And then the thought appears: “I need to work harder too.” This can be both a motivation and a source of stress — depending on your psychological state and maturity. I have my own Kiasu too: work, PhD studies, a book — and it’s all difficult to combine during the day. But I enjoy what I do, and that gives me the strength to move forward.

The suicide rate among teenagers here is very high. They can’t withstand the pressure from parents and the competitive environment. Singaporean students must rank first in all rankings and get the highest grades, because their families, for example, studied at Harvard, Oxford, or Cambridge. So if a child of such parents gets not five out of five but a C, how can they live on? As a result, many students from the National University of Singapore and Nanyang Technological University have taken their own lives.

Since 2019, I`ve been teaching Ukrainian as a foreign language to Singaporeans on weekends. A group of local students knew me as a linguist and asked me to conduct a beginner’s Ukrainian course. The Embassy also began recommending me to everyone interested in learning Ukrainian. In 2022, after the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion, many Ukrainian families asked me to teach their children. But at that time, I simply didn’t have the energy. Teaching is not easy: you give yourself completely, 100%, but you don’t always receive energy in return and often go home exhausted.

In 2022, our community opened a Ukrainian Sunday school in Singapore. Ukrainian mothers taught there, but they had neither pedagogical, nor linguistic education. I decided to help by writing teaching materials for them. Later, I realized that perhaps I, too, will someday have children born outside Ukraine, and I also want to pass on my native language to them. That’s how the idea to create a textbook came about — for my future children and for those growing up in Singapore. There are many mixed families here — with Ukrainian, Chinese, French, and English roots. They often only understand Ukrainian but do not think in it. I wrote the textbook “Vulyk” specifically for bilingual children for whom Ukrainian is effectively a foreign language.

This book is designed for children aged 3 and up, it has beautiful illustrations by Daria Horinova from Cherkasy. You can look at them with your child and talk about the characters: what they wear, what colors they have. It introduces elements of play and imagination simply by looking at the illustration. Dasha and I spoke on the phone only three times; it was a unique creative symbiosis– she knew what to draw and which characters to introduce. We completed the text and illustrations in a year.

By law, I am not allowed to be an entrepreneur, as I work in the public education sector — I teach at one of Singapore’s five polytechnics, where teachers are civil servants. Therefore, I officially informed the ministry that I had published a book and planned to sell it to declare everything. I published the textbook at my own expense and registered it as a Singaporean publication. I received the international library number, ISBN, and printed a thousand copies in the capital of Malaysia, Kuala Lumpur — it was cheaper there. It took me half a year to complete the registration and printing.

Parents can teach their children Ukrainian themselves using the textbook. All the rules in the book are presented simply and clearly — this is the beginner level. In the first volume, I focused on the nominative, accusative, and dative cases. I will write about the others in the second part, after I complete my PhD dissertation on the regulation of artificial intelligence in Singaporean universities. The Ukrainian language is difficult, but I love grammar and enjoy creating exercises.

I presented my book in Ukrainian schools in Indonesia — in Bali and the capital, Jakarta. The textbook has already been purchased by Ukrainian Sunday schools in Germany and Dubai. I’ve also sent about 50 letters to Ukrainian schools in the US, but received only one reply. In Singapore, Ukrainians strongly support each other: embassy staff came to the presentation, and many bought books for their children and acquaintances. Others helped with delivery because sending books from Singapore is expensive: the book itself costs 50 SGD, and delivery is another 35 SGD. So I am looking for people who are traveling to the EU or the US and can send books from there.

If you are a foreigner, your child doesn’t have the right to attend a local school. Foreigners' children can only study at international schools, where a year costs from 15,000 to 30,000 SGD. There are two main education systems in Singapore: the International Baccalaureate (IB) — US and EU-oriented — and the British system. Only children of foreigners with Permanent Resident status can attend local schools. School education lasts from age 7 to 19, after which all boys from permanent resident families undergo two years of military service. Therefore, girls usually enter universities at 19, and boys at 21.

Singaporeans pay much less for university than foreigners. It can be 50,000 SGD for the entire study program. There are many subsidies and scholarships for locals. If you are a talented Singaporean, the state may pay for your studies at Harvard or Cornell University, but you must then return to Singapore and work for 4-5 years in civil service, usually in several different ministries.

For a child to know your language, it takes the hard work of one or both parents. You should instill in a child as many languages as the parents speak. There is no limit to the brain’s ability to absorb information. Always speak the language you prefer. The child will remember everything. They may not immediately reply in the same language, but don’t lose hope — keep going. The child will speak at some point. There are children born in Singapore, half-Ukrainian, who have never been to Ukraine, yet speak Ukrainian perfectly.

After my PhD, I will write a series of textbooks on Ukrainian culture — music, literature, and art — with simplified vocabulary for bilingual children living all over the world. This will be mini-encyclopedias with exercises in Ukrainian language and general knowledge.