I woke up to a beautiful morning on Monday, so peaceful and quiet I could hear birds chirping.
How strange, I thought to myself as I rose to find not a single soul on the usually noisy football field belonging to an international school near my home. There were no high-pitched shouts, thunderous cheers or shrill whistles reverberating from the swimming pool near the field either.
For once, I could actually sit on my balcony and enjoy the lush view of the nature reserve beyond the integrated sports complex without any disturbance.
It was a public holiday, after all, and it gave my neighbours and me a much-needed respite from noise that starts earlier than 6am and ends only at 10pm on most days. For months, we have been bemoaning the negative impact of the noisy sports complex located roughly 20m from our block on our quality of life.
Wherever you live in densely populated Singapore, it is hard to escape noise. The MRT runs from 5.30am to around midnight daily. Heartland markets are abuzz with activity from 6am for the early risers and breakfast crowds. Schools spring into life from 7am onwards, while neighbourhood playgrounds and malls get rowdy in the evening.
One may think this kind of noise is to be expected in a bustling city, even though it is admittedly very annoying.
The National Environment Agency recommends an average outdoor sound level of no more than 67 decibels, though a study conducted by the National University of Singapore in 2017 found the figure to be 69.4 decibels, equivalent to noise from a vacuum cleaner.
The World Health Organisation defines sound levels above 65 decibels as noise pollution and states that constant exposure to anything above 70 decibels can lead to hearing impairment.
Research has shown that chronic noise from the living environment is a health hazard that does not get enough attention, and it’s not just our hearing that is at risk.
Exposure to noise also increases the risk of hypertension, stroke and heart attack. It affects mental health, making one more prone to anxiety and depression, and causes behavioural problems. Even those who tune the noise out, whether awake or asleep, “experience automatic stress reactions”, said a 2022 Harvard Medical School report.
Quiet living vs convenience
You can avoid all these potential problems if you can afford to live in secluded corners, but there is a price to pay for that too – the lack of convenience.
My family of three used to live in a quiet neighbourhood, where going to the nearest convenience store would require 20 minutes of walking down a slope and up another one.
When it was time to move, we naturally chose convenience – we now have a foodcourt, supermarket and several cafes literally at our doorstep. What we did not bargain for is the noisy sports complex.
Granted, we had been forewarned when buying the house in late 2021, that all our rooms face the school’s football field. We decided to proceed as we thought it would be cute watching kids chase balls, and we could still bask in nature after school hours.
We were wrong. While the kids are indeed adorable and inject a youthful energy into the air, we were less prepared for the adults who hog the field when it is rented out to external parties in the evenings and on weekends, robbing us of our envisioned quiet time with Mother Nature.
Noise from the pool, which is used by external vendors for water polo and artistic swimming training after school hours, was a surprise. None of us could have anticipated the sheer magnitude of the noise that gets amplified within the walls and ceiling before “surging” out from air vents facing our block.
Unlike getting a resale apartment where you are able to visit the neighbourhood many times to check for potential issues, moving into a newly completed estate comes with challenges you would have to mitigate over time. Even for resale units, there could be unforeseeable circumstances that waylay your best-laid plans.
A friend escaped the hustle and bustle of the “downstairs market and coffee shop” at his mum’s home by moving to a quieter estate after marriage, but found himself besieged by noise from a busy playground where, every evening, kids would scream and shout for their friends to join them.
Another friend thought he had found the perfect bachelor’s pad – high floor, next to nature and far from potentially noisy amenities. But his peace ended when his neighbour upstairs built a gym and “started to drop weights on the floor like crazy and every bang startles me”.
Yet another friend enjoyed a quiet view of landed properties – until the house directly facing her living room was torn down and rebuilt, generating construction noise for months.
Living with noise
So what do you do when confronted with unexpected and unpleasant noise that doesn’t go away?
Just as there are five stages of culture shock and five stages of grief, I’ve come to realise there can be five stages of living with noise too, at least for me.
The first is a kneejerk reaction – frustration. It is human nature to feel annoyed when things don’t go your way. You start to question yourself. Why did I buy this house? Why didn’t I do more research before signing the deal? You would also question the source of noise. How can they be so inconsiderate? Why can’t they spare a thought for others?
The second stage is adjustment. Since you have no control over the external environment, you try to change your own behaviour instead. Keeping windows closed will help minimise noise. You can wear earplugs, earmuffs or noise-cancelling earphones to block out the noise. Psychologists would recommend playing calming sounds, meditation and deep-breathing exercises to soothe the nerves and reduce noise-induced stress.
Those whose noise tolerance level is low may also decide to stay away from the house during peak noise levels. Or fight poison with poison. One of my neighbours would play a film on full blast, while I turn up the volume knob for music.
Stage three is rebellion – when you realise nothing you do can drastically improve the situation and you are bearing the brunt of increased electricity bills from extended hours of air-conditioning and compromised quality of life. You cannot even get enough fresh air with the windows closed, for goodness’ sake.
On days when my patience runs thin, I find myself snapping at my husband and daughter over minor issues. One neighbour is so frustrated she wants to vent and shame in social media. I even had the crazy idea of renting the field and pool for one whole month and leaving them empty, just so I can get the peace I crave. But these are just temporary fixes.
Dialogue is key
When you start to think about long-term solutions, you enter the fourth stage – escalation.
Those of us affected by the noise banded together to discuss how we can reach out to the school and engage with its leaders so we get our quality of life without compromising the school’s right to educate.
Early outreach to the school drew cursory replies. E-mails were also sent to the National Environment Agency and Building Construction Authority. In March, one neighbour, herself a school principal, decided it was time to escalate matters and invoke the powers of a person of authority. As all Singaporeans do when our own options are exhausted, she took the issue to our Member of Parliament.
A welcome party was held in early April, during which residents poured our troubles onto our MP. He acted quickly. A meeting between resident representatives and the school’s top management was arranged within the month. Our MP made clear our concerns, and the school agreed to install sound barriers, among other action plans.
Two months on, some of us feel the situation has improved, while others want more to be done. The school, to its credit, has made some adjustments to swimming schedules, though there is still no sign of sound barriers, which, to many of us, would be the best solution.
By now we are looming closer to the final stage – acceptance. The noise is not going away any time, so we either live with it or move out. Those of us intending to stay on would have rationalised our decision. Noise is irritating, but if that is the price we have to pay for convenience and proximity to a nature reserve, we will put up with it and try to tune it out.
Like me, the school principal neighbour loves the area too much to consider moving away. Instead, she continues to engage the school to effect change. “I believe in dialogue,” she says, adding that she intends to write to our MP again.
Together, we lament the detrimental effects of poor design and agree that more thought needs to be put into creating quieter living spaces. A new Build-To-Order housing project has sprung up next to her school, she confides, adding “wish me luck” as the tables will soon be turned on her.
Education would go a long way too. If silence is inculcated as a virtue and our kids, like their Japanese peers, are taught to speak softly and be more considerate of other people in public spaces, we as a society will create much less noise.
Meanwhile, I remain hopeful that our family can soon enjoy a quiet Sunday brunch on our balcony with birds, not footballers or swimmers, joining us.
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