'You can make more than a corporate job': NTU graduate sisters on juggling getai and full-time jobs

UnXpected is an original AsiaOne series where we speak to people with unconventional interests to find out what keeps them going despite the sometimes negative perceptions of others

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Like many other 'pandemic graduates', Nanyang Technological University alumnae Pek Jia Xuan, 24, and Pek Jia Wei, 23, are just getting a foothold in the corporate world.

In the getai world, though, the sisters are pretty much veterans, with some 13 years of performing experience each.

And even as they juggle their full-time jobs with evening and weekend gigs — Jia Xuan works in a logistics company, while Jia Wei works in marketing — the pair tells AsiaOne that they have no thoughts of quitting just yet.

When we speak to the duo, who go by their stage name 2Z Sisters, it's a weekday evening and they've just gotten home from work.

A bubbly Jia Wei tells me that they've got a gig the next evening — their third this month. If they're at all tired, they aren't showing it.

It's impressive, but also comes as no surprise given that they spent the bulk of their schooling years with a much more gruelling schedule.

'I've cried at least 1,000 times'

Their parents had enrolled them in singing and dance lessons early on in hopes that they would become "atas Mediacorp actresses", the sisters share. But one of their father's friends suggested that they give getai a try, and they took to it like a fish in water.

Meaning "song stage" in Mandarin, getai is a form of vernacular entertainment involving live performances of music, song, and dance.

Being a getai singer might not have the same glitz and glam as a Mediacorp artiste, but they don't pale in comparison when it comes to the talent and skills required.

Crediting her performance experience for bringing her out of her shell, Jia Wei explains that getai culture is "very on the spot".

Nothing is scripted, the sisters say, so thinking on your feet is crucial. Besides being a human jukebox and taking song requests, a typical set also involves ad-libbed jokes and banter with the audience.

During peak periods such as the seventh lunar month, the sisters can do about 70 gigs a month, (at least before they began working full time) rushing from stage to stage each night.

Their father, who works as a taxi driver, used to ferry them around for their gigs — before everything went online — and it was always chaos in the cab.

Jia Wei recounts: "The moment we ended our CCA (co-curricular activities), we would run to the car.

"And because we played volleyball, we were so sweaty."

"We didn't even have time to shower," Jia Xuan interjects, sharing how they had to change in the car en-route to their gigs and would "stink up" the vehicle.

Growing up, they also had to sacrifice parties and outings with friends for evening gigs.

"I've cried at least 1,000 times," Jia Wei recalls as Jia Xuan gives her sister a knowing look. "I remember always telling my parents, 'I just want to be like a normal student. Can you just let me be normal?'"

But now, the sisters say they are grateful to their parents for pushing them to stay in the industry that they've grown to love.

Proud to add getai to their resumes

As a matter of fact, the sisters say they briefly contemplated going "full on getai" after it started to gain popularity with the general public in recent years, in no small part thanks to TV programmes such as GeTai Challenge.

"Honestly, the income can be even more than what we are holding right now, which is a corporate job," Jia Wei reveals.

A four-song set pays about $150 on average; hosting gigs can vary but typically net most performers about $700 per show.

Unfortunately, Covid-19 has decimated their getai earnings, they say, counting it fortunate that they both graduated from Nanyang Technological University in 2020 just as their gigs were drying up.

Even as shows head online for this year's Hungry Ghost Month, organisers are putting on fewer shows as compared to last year due to "livestream fatigue", according to a recent Today report.

"We were able to get a job immediately after Covid-19, so we basically just went from part time getai singers to full time working adults," says Jia Wei.

"But if Covid-19 didn't happen, it probably will be a big part time job for us."

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Even while they were job hunting, they made no secret of their stage experience, they say.

"You're actually standing out from the crowd. This is something special. This is a candidate that is doing something out of the box," Jia Wei says, adding that she's proud to list her getai experience on her resume.

Their friends and colleagues have also been surprisingly supportive — some of them have asked if they can come to their performances, while others have even asked the sisters for tips on introducing their kids to the industry.

But the sisters say that not everyone is as open minded.

Singing to ghosts?

One of the biggest misconceptions that they encounter is that they're performing for ghosts, they say.

"Last time, when I hear these comments, I will be upset. But now, I just laugh it off and explain to them that there are thousands of people watching, even on Facebook," Jia Wei says with the patience of a saint.

In actual fact, getai performances are held year round, as well as during other festive occasions such as Chinese New Year.

But that's not all they've had to deal with.

"People also thought that for getai, you need to wear very sexy, revealing clothes, like a singing prostitute," Jia Xuan adds.

Nevertheless, they've seen shifting attitudes towards getai over the years, they say.

Jia Wei went through a phase where she would try to hide that she was a getai singer, but both her and Jia Xuan say they now take pride in being part of this uniquely Singaporean tradition.

"It's something that cannot be separated from our identity. So once Covid-19 ends, we can't wait to be back out," Jia Wei tells us.

Nodding in agreement, Jia Xuan adds, "I think this is something we'll be doing forever."

kimberlylim@asiaone.com