Joining a Multinational in Singapore: What the Employment Pass Didn’t Tell Me

When I stepped off the plane at Changi with two suits, a laptop, and an offer letter, the humidity hit me like a warm handshake that didn’t let go. I thought the hardest part—landing a financial analyst role at a multinational—was done. Two weeks later, I was learning that Singapore’s summer afternoons can drench you in five minutes, that a good room can cost as much as my old studio in Shanghai, and that “can or cannot?” is the most efficient project management question on earth.

Why Singapore, Why Now

Back home I was on the investment banking track—respectable, demanding, and predictable. I wanted more regional exposure and a front-row seat to Southeast Asia’s growth. Singapore was the obvious choice: stable, English-first, and a hub where deals, regulations, and money intersect in one city-state. The Monetary Authority of Singapore keeps the market serious, and the talent is global. Plus, I liked the idea of being a short flight from Jakarta one week and Tokyo the next.

The Employment Pass: My Play-by-Play

I’d heard horror stories, but my Employment Pass experience was mostly smooth—because my company’s HR team knew what they were doing.

• Documents: I sent scanned degree certificates, translations, and my employment history. HR warned me that MOM (Ministry of Manpower) can verify degree credentials, so have originals handy. I did.
• COMPASS: The newer points framework made me nervous, but HR assured me my salary and qualifications fit the role’s profile. They also explained that the company’s track record and diversity profile matter. I appreciated the transparency, even if I had little control over it.
• Timeline: Application submitted in April. In-Principle Approval (IPA) arrived in just under three weeks. The IPA included a visa to enter Singapore because of my passport, which saved a separate application step.
• Arrival: I landed mid-May, just as the summer sun got serious. I did the medical check (simple blood test and chest X-ray) at a clinic near my temporary hotel, then scheduled biometrics at the MOM Services Centre. The EP card arrived by courier about 10 days later.
• Set-up: With my FIN (Foreign Identification Number), I registered for Singpass—the key to almost everything—opened a bank account, signed a mobile plan, and set up my tax profile. No capital gains tax here; income taxes are progressive but relatively low compared to many places. There’s no CPF for EP holders, which increases take-home but means planning your own long-term savings.

One tip: policies change. MOM’s website was clear and up to date, and HR’s guidance made all the difference. If your company doesn’t have a strong HR team, budget extra time and patience.

Housing: The Sticker Shock Chapter

Rents are real. My romantic idea of a one-bedroom apartment near the office evaporated after three viewings. I spent the first four weeks in a serviced apartment (not cheap), pounding out WhatsApp messages to agents and joining Facebook groups at night.

Numbers that felt true for me this summer:

• A decent common room in a central neighborhood: S$1,600–2,400 per month.
• A one-bedroom near CBD: S$3,500–5,000, depending on age of building and proximity to MRT.
• Utilities and Wi‑Fi split: S$80–150 per person monthly, depending on air-con use.

I compromised: a bright common room in Tiong Bahru with an older HDB view and a bakery downstairs. S$1,850 a month, one-month deposit, and a straightforward lease. My landlord wanted a letter from my employer and my EP card number. We shook hands and shared pineapple tarts to celebrate.

The shock softened when I realized I spend less elsewhere: hawker meals, public transport, and the fact I don’t need a car (the COE price tag still feels like a legend told to scare newcomers into taking the MRT—well over S$100,000 just for the right to own a vehicle).

The Work: Fast, Global, and Surprisingly Human

“8 a.m. with Tokyo, 8 p.m. with New York” became my schedule more often than my manager promised. But the rhythm works: mornings for Asia, afternoons for deep work, evenings for the West. The culture is direct without being abrasive. People ask honest questions in meetings: “What’s the downside case?” “Can we defend that assumption to MAS?” If you don’t know, say so and promise a time you’ll deliver the answer. Reliability is the currency.

I also learned to translate:

• “Can lah” means we will figure it out.
• “Can, can” means we already have a plan.
• “Cannot” is mercifully final.

There’s a competitive edge—performance goals, calibration sessions, and an unspoken expectation that you do your homework. But there’s also respect for personal time if you draw the line. I started blocking 6:30–8:00 p.m. twice a week for a run at the Bay. No one complained when my output stayed strong.

Summer in the City: Heat, Storms, and Durian

Singapore doesn’t do four seasons, but June brings a particular kind of heat—bright mornings, breezy monsoon winds, and late-afternoon thunderstorms that arrive like they have calendar invites. I carry an umbrella even on blue-sky days; downpours can turn Marina Bay Promenade into a mirror in minutes.

Seasonal discovery of the month: durian season sneaking into the markets. I tried Mao Shan Wang with a colleague in Geylang. Creamy, sweet, strangely savory, and powerful. We ate it on the sidewalk with plastic gloves, cars and cicadas competing in the background. It’s not an everyday snack, but it’s an “I live here now” moment.

Weekends are my pressure valve:

• Breakfast kopi and kaya toast at a kopitiam, then the Botanic Gardens before the sun bites.
• Cycling at East Coast Park after 5 p.m., sea breeze in my face, cargo ships lining the horizon like a city skyline in waiting.
• Occasional dip into air-con heaven at the malls when the midday heat wins. I used to avoid malls; here, they’re a way of life.

Healthcare: Efficient, Pay-As-You-Go

On week three, my throat was wrecked from back-to-back calls. I walked into a neighborhood GP, waited 15 minutes, got examined, and paid around S$55 including meds. My company’s insurance covered most of it. Without subsidies, EP holders pay private rates, but the system is efficient. A dental cleaning later cost about S$120 at a clinic near Raffles Place. My advice: pick a nearby GP early and bookmark the clinic hours; late-afternoon storms and a fever are a bad combo for last-minute searches.

Finding My People

The city can feel polished and a little opaque when you first arrive. What changed it for me:

• Joining a dragon boat team that practices at Kallang in the faint evening breeze. I’m still clumsy at the catch, but being on the water resets my head after a hard week.
• A WeChat group for Chinese professionals that posts room listings, badminton games, and weekend hikes.
• Volunteering one Saturday morning at a soup kitchen—easy to sign up, humbling, and grounding.
• A casual finance meetup near Tanjong Pagar that turned into monthly dinners. We trade models, audit horror stories, and hawker recommendations.

If you put one event a week on the calendar, you’ll find your circle faster than you think.

The Cost Conversation, Honestly

Everyone asks: “How expensive is it, really?” My spending shakes out like this:

• Lunch at a hawker center: S$5–8. I rotate between chicken rice, fish soup, and thunder tea rice when I pretend to be healthy.
• MRT and buses: clean, fast, and cheap. Tap in with a bank card; fares are usually under S$2. Taxis and ride-hailing are pricier during storms—budget S$12–25 around town.
• Gym: S$100–180 per month, depending on brand and location.
• Coffee: S$1.50 for kopi; S$6 for a flat white in cafes when I miss third-wave rituals.

Rent is the big variable. House-sharing kept my budget sane while I felt out the neighborhoods. Avoid committing to a long lease before you’ve done a month of morning walks and commute tests.

The Hub Advantage: Travel That Feeds the Work

Singapore’s biggest perk for a finance role is being in the middle of everything. Changi is absurdly efficient. I’ve already done a weekend in Kuala Lumpur and booked Bali for a July break. With a Chinese passport, I still check visa requirements carefully; many neighbors offer e-visas or visa-on-arrival, but policies evolve. The upside is huge: meeting founders in Jakarta on Tuesday and being back at my desk on Wednesday makes regional investing feel real, not theoretical.

What I Wish I Knew Before I Came

• Don’t wait to start your EP paperwork. Scan everything crisply, use exact names as on your passport, and answer HR emails fast.
• Bring 3–4 months of living expenses for deposits and the first weeks when salary hasn’t hit and you’re still navigating setup costs.
• Sign a shorter lease first if you can. Six months to learn your commute and your neighborhood preferences is worth a small premium.
• Learn enough Singlish to avoid confusion and enough patience to survive afternoon storms and end-of-quarter crunches.
• Pick one ritual that reminds you why you came. For me, it’s a run around Marina Bay just before sunset—city, water, sky, and the sense that I’m part of a bigger map now.

Closing Thoughts

In my first month, I swung between pride and fatigue. Pride when I held the EP card and swiped into the office as the morning sun burned off the night’s rain. Fatigue when yet another apartment viewing smelled of fresh paint and broken promises. Somewhere between a bowl of laksa at a plastic table and a late-night model that finally balanced, Singapore began to feel less like a posting and more like a place I could grow.

If you’re considering the same move: be clear about your reasons, build a margin of safety—time, money, and patience—and say yes to small invitations. The city can be expensive and demanding, but it’s also generous to those who show up, learn the codes, and keep going. And when the summer storm passes and the streets shine, it’s hard not to feel a little hopeful about what’s next.

Best wishes from Singapore,