The week before, I took a day off to bring everyone to Kidzania Singapore to see if we could get tickets, but we arrived at Beach Station at 2pm, and seasoned parents of Kidzanians will point at us and mock us in utter noobery of not knowing that we can’t just get walk-in tickets into Kidzania Singapore in the middle of the afternoon during the school hols. So early this week, I took another day off, and The Wife, Xan and I verbally committed ourselves night before to wake up at 7am and get to Sentosa by 9am (Yvie just wakes up whenever the hell she wants, so we didn’t seek her approval on the idea).
We woke up late. But we did manage to get to Kidzania a little after 10am, which isn’t as bad. And we already had tickets which The Wife managed to pre-purchase online just a day before they all sold out.
Not that it’s cheap, either. When The Wife quipped that the Singapore edition was probably the most expensive Kidzania in the world, I believed her. But for the purposes of fact-checking (because bloggers are sooooooo reliable with facts, aren’t we), I later went and compiled a table of global Kidzania ticket prices for comparison (because bloggers are also soooooooo free, aren’t we).
Singapore’s S$58 kid’s ticket is the 5th most expensive Kidzania ticket in the world, behind Tokyo and Koshien in Japan (between $68.42 to $71), Seoul and Busan in South Korea (S$68), and London (S$61.24). Our $35 adult ticket, however, is the second most expensive, second only to Kuwait’s $35.88 price tag. Put the children’s and adult’s prices together (because almost every Kidzania outlet requires each child to be accompanied by an adult) and Kidzania Singapore actually ranks a very close 3rd most expensive after the 2 Japanese outlets.
That’s a lot to pay for, especially when the adults don’t get to do anything other than pay for their own meals and buy merchandise (great, more spending). But as we spent our day there, I managed to find something about the place that made it worth my wife’s money: other parents, because I just love observing how these intrepid caregivers of their own offspring try–and fail–to operate in a place where kids are trying to be adults and in helping them do so, the adults unwittingly behave like kids.
1. The I-am-my-children’s-representative parent
At Kidzania, the kids are required to do adult things, like delve into different occupations, make their own food, and manage their own money. They also have to queue for everything they want to do. It’s even stated in the signs plastered on stations where queues form. But of course, who has time to read signs?
This one dad decided to help his kids book a spot (and a good one, too) in the queue for the Qatar Airlines First Officer training course, the most popular station in the place.
The guy stood there for a good 10 minutes arguing his case and getting increasingly agitated while 1 crew member, then 2, then 2 crew members and 3 security people tried to get him to leave the queue. As he argued the rest of the parents and maids either made their kids replace them or silently skulked away. The resistance he put up earned him a firm hand around his arm at the end of it as he was escorted out of the queue and away from the group of children and onlookers wondering if he knew how foolish he looked.
2. The over-indulgent parent
On a number of queues that Xan joined, the kids surrounding him had their heads bowed down playing on tablets or phones in stoic silence. In one particular instance, he caved and asked if he could have my phone to play with. I said no. The boy in front of him, completely oblivious to the conversation, carried on with his mother’s phone.
10 minutes later, the queue moved. The kid with his mum’s phone didn’t. Trainer came out of the station to manage the queue and saw him, then went up to him to try and get him to rejoin the queue. He didn’t budge. Mother then came back as the next session was about to start and saw her boy, about 5 metres away from the end of the queue, still playing with his phone.
3. The over-reaching parent
One mum whose son was in the job session the KZ Express courier station managed to ask the trainer for a small uniform that she can let her under-3 daughter try on. She subsequently didn’t give it back until the end of the session, and let her kid run amok with her brother, while the trainer somewhat freaked out at the subtle daylight robbery of her equipment. “She’ll be back, I promise. She’s just going to the toilet,” she said, before running away with her kids (and us, because her son was paired up with Xan) to take photos and videos of that proud moment all her children went on a mock delivery run as fake despatch runners.
4. Overbearing parents
They run around with their kids at the stations where running around outside the station is required (e.g. City Parade Performer, Maybank Vault Cash Officer, KZ Express Courier).
Okay, I did that too, but we’re bloggers, and it was for this blog post, so stop being so judgmental.
And then if the kids are in a vehicle (e.g. WTS Travel Tour Guide or Tourist, SCDF Firefighter, SPF Police Officer, Mount Elizabeth Hospital Paramedic) they don’t just follow the vehicles their kids are in; they reach in and hold their child’s hand, while the vehicle is moving. And they’re not just taking photos and videos of that proud moment all their children go on a mock delivery run as fake despatch runners. They’re telling them what to do, encouraging them and telling them no, they’re doing it wrong it should be that way, because this really is what happens in real life when kids become adults and still need their parents to tell them how to work in their jobs every step of the way.
If you thought I was being sarcastic, I really do know some adults with parents like that… still.
5. Over-inquisitive parents
So the adults can’t partake just about all the activities the kids take on in Kidzania (unless you brought a toddler, in which case you get to hang out with your child at the Kindergarten and RightzKeepers Residence). The policy is especially felt when our kids enter enclosed stations like the Paddle Pop Ice Cream Factory, the Lim Chee Guan Traditional BBQ Meat Store, and the Qatar Airlines Aviation Academy, and some of us adults just can’t handle it. So at the very first opportunity we get, we grab the first trainer coming out of the station our kids are about to get into and ask 374 questions about everything inside that we can and can’t see from the glass panels outside and their grandmother, and we ask really fast because we don’t want to take up their time from doing their jobs.
Guess what? We take up their time from doing their jobs, sessions get delayed, and by 6pm, the session count runs short of the number scheduled and less kids get to play.
6. Over-excited parents
You know those parents who bring their kids to their first day at primary school, and then stay there, hanging out at the classrooms peering in, continuously waving at the kids and knocking on the windows trying to get their attention just so they can wave at them and smile and take photos, or tell them to pay attention to the teacher, and take photos, or pass them some inane item like tissue paper to wipe their sweat, spittle and snot, and take photos?
They’re at Kidzania Singapore, too.
As far as theme parks are concerned, I will say put aside your skepticism if you can afford it and try Kidzania Singapore at least once (and if you really only want to do it once, don’t get a B-Kidzanian Pazzport for your kid; you get more benefits, but it’s your kid’s passport to an addiction on a global scale), if anything for the very valuable life lessons the place offers your child to learn and for you to teach (such as money management, time management, trying everything before you settle on what you want to do in your life, or don’t wave around your Kidzos in front of others like an obnoxious rich kid).
More importantly, leave your kid alone. Yes, Kidzania requires adult accompaniment, but the only reasons we are there is so the kids don’t leave with strangers (children’s RFID wrist tags are paired with their families’ or guardian’s tags so they can’t leave the premises with other people) and that immediate response can be had when a child gets hurt, gets lost or gets in trouble.
The entire premise of Kidzania is to be a foundational space for teaching your child how to navigate the world we adults experience as independently as we do. To that end, the Kidzania staff really actively try to to maintain that sense of independence in as joyful manner as they can muster for our kids, and as much as they try to also maintain high service standards as politely as they can with us adults, our incessant interference isn’t helping them or our kids.
So let your child run free in a mock economy to work in mock jobs fronted by familiar commercial brands, so they can spend their mock money climbing up and down mock buildings (very imaginatively called Climbing Building) and making mock ATM deposits, while you find a seat somewhere within the sprawling 2-storey space mocking other parents and hoping you don’t do anything that will invite mocking from mock celebrities such as parent bloggers.
If you didn’t get the hint already, this post was sponsored by Mother of Xander (a.k.a. The Wife), who paid for the tickets because I gawked at the ticket prices the first time she mentioned it, the second time when she bought it, the third time when we got there and the fourth time when I wrote this post. The Wife has a habit of being on Facebook a lot, which can be really fun because she’s actually very entertaining. Oh yes, Mother of Xander blogs, too.