Teeth are the same all over the world, but where you live is not, says an Irish orthodontist

London life toughened this Irish orthodontist, so Singapore feels like a sabbatical


Clara Gibson is from Portlaoise and studied dentistry in Trinity College, Dublin. After graduating in 2010, she moved to London then spent 10 years working for the NHS as she sat exams and qualified as an orthodontist. She specialised in cleft lip and palate orthodontics and worked as a consultant in Great Ormond Street Children’s Hospital. She relocated to Singapore in 2020

Sometimes life uncertainty can be a trigger for change. As I look back at my professional career to date, it strikes me that some of my biggest life decisions have been prompted by a climate of uncertainty. I left Ireland directly after graduating as a dentist in 2010, in the middle of the recession. Fresh out of university and enthusiastic to start working, London was beckoning. No doubt that the reassurance of a stable NHS job was a comforting bonus.

Ten years later, then working as a consultant orthodontist specialising in cleft lip and palate at Great Ormond Street Children’s Hospital, I knew that I needed a change. Against a different background of uncertainty with the pandemic gearing up, I touched down in Singapore. After a frosty Irish winter, the humidity felt like a warm hug as I began to establish my life in the city-state located just 1 degree north of the equator.

“Asia-lite” is what Singapore is affectionately called by the expats here. Not quite the craziness of crossing the road in Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam nor with the high-rise skyscrapers of Hong Kong. A waft of incense from the Buddhist temple next door reminds me that I am in fact 7,000 miles away from home.

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Singapore is safe, orderly, my daily commute almost calming. I run the streets at night and feel at ease. I leave my laptop unattended; a kind passerby plugs it in to charge for me

Life is easier here. The city is green, the sea is light blue, the islands of Indonesia visible through the humidity across the bay. London life toughened me up, Singapore feels like a sabbatical. The reputation is true; the city is safe, orderly, my daily commute almost calming. I run the streets at night and feel at ease. I leave my laptop unattended; a kind passerby plugs it in to charge for me.

The healthcare system mirrors the ethos of Singapore; clean, efficient and modern. I deliberated a lot whether leaving the NHS was the right decision. Having just established myself as a consultant in a niche area, was I taking my foot off the pedal too soon? I worried that I would regret passing up a career role. But early 30s felt too soon for me to settle into my “forever job”. My parents despaired, but yet were cautious to offer advice. After a decade of professional exams, I needed a reset.

My job in Singapore is clinically challenging yet not stressful; a coveted combination that I didn’t think was possible in healthcare.

I carry out orthodontic treatment for patients of all ages with a focus on patients requiring orthognathic (jaw) surgery. Unlike previous jobs I have had throughout my training, I don’t have to grapple for resources, put in bids for new equipment or justify the income generation versus cost. Patients are keen, engaged and the clinics are progressive.

But starting a new life on a different continent needs grit and tenacity. “Sure, teeth are the same all over the world” was a phrase I came to hear a lot. Yes, they are. But dental and orthodontic licenses are not. I am here long enough now that I need to think about fully converting my practicing license, which means another exam. I mull it over while weighing up my long-term plan.

The music of Chinese New Year is being played in shops. It reminds me that this is my third consecutive one in Asia. Expat life is finite though and many of my friends are packing up to leave. The lack of travel and distance from home is becoming a burden, which no amount of daily sunshine can fix.

We are told that we are living with covid now, but Singapore is taking a cautious approach to letting it move in. With no clear end in sight, Ireland offers more freedom. Friends move back home yet message me shortly after wondering if they have made the right choice.

I am staying put. The nature of my job does not lend itself to regular upheaval - my patients are in treatment for over a year and I feel a responsibility to deliver.

I mentor high school and undergraduate students here. As we drink ice tea under the shade of palm trees, they tell me of their hopes to move to London and Dublin to study medicine and dentistry. Faraway hills may well be greener in Ireland but I think that it is the excitement of the unknown that drives us to uproot our lives, whatever the uncertainty.

If you live overseas and would like to share your experience with Irish Times Abroad, email abroad@irishtimes.com with a little information about you and what you do