Jottings

THIS ARTICLE IS DEDICATED TO FRANK & JOYCE LOW, AND KYM DeGRAW & HER FAMILY MEMBERS, AS WELL AS MANY MANY AUSTRALIANS WHO SHOWED ME THE MEANING OF ’1AUSTRALIA’

There have been plenty of talks about 1Malaysia these days; we are bombarded by news of 1Malaysia efforts in our daily papers and I’ve heard radio ads on 1Malaysia from time to time. Ideally (to me), 1Malaysia is achieved when Malaysians finally do not care about race and skin colour, and equality is bestowed to all. By equality, I don’t mean just equal opportunity in monetary funds, education system, scholarships, job placements or housing loans and purchases; equal hospitality is also something to take note of.

When the 1Malaysia concept was first revealed, it triggered memories of my 2 and a half years stay in Perth, Australia. During my first year, I was studying in Curtin University of Technology; taking Diploma in Mass Comm. Because I was to go to Perth alone, with no friends, my family suggested for me to take the home stay programme. I stayed with a Singaporean-turned-Australian family. It amazes me that although Frank and Joyce acknowledged the fact that that they’re from Singapore, they say that they’re ‘Australians’ now and I’ve never heard them say that they are ‘Singaporean-Australian’ or ‘Australian-Chinese’ or anything like that. They’d simply say that they’re ‘Aussies’.

Their two children, born in Australia, have no problem fitting into the local schools and since they are ALL Australians, they get the same benefits every Australian enjoys. Under their care, I had nothing much to worry about apart from studies as the cooking and cleaning were settled by them.

My REAL adventure started when I decided to transfer to Murdoch University to pursue my degree, also in Perth but it’s nowhere near Curtin Uni or my home stayed family’s area. Since the decision is solely my own, once again, I had no friends who followed me to my new Uni. I went back to Malaysia after completing my Diploma in Curtin, and since I found home stay to be rather pricey, I decided not to take up home stay anymore. At the same time, I did not want to stay in the Uni hostel because of the rules and regulations I have to abide to. So, I went to Perth again alone. Without a place to stay this time. Does my parents know? Yeaps, and they told me to book a hotel if I couldn’t find a place to stay yet (my plan was to go to a property agent and look for a house there and then for rent). My boyfriend (now husband) was worried to death but since I’ve stayed in Perth for a year and had experienced their friendliness, kindness and genuine concern, I didn’t feel like I had any worries in the world. After all, the Aussie’s favourite tagline is ‘No worries, mate!’ and I left Malaysia feeling calm and excited.

When I went to the property agency, Realty, the agent who was assigned to me is Kym DeGraw. I’ll never forget how she took me around to various houses, informing me of each house’s advantages and disadvantages, the housemates, how to take the bus to Uni, to supermarkets, to the city and so on. Somehow, none of them appealed to me and it is at this point that I took a big step in changing myself into a better person. Kym invited me to stay in her house, with her 6-year-old son and her boyfriend. Free of charge until I find a house/room I’m comfortable with. I was shocked but I accepted. My boyfriend was worried sick when I called him to inform him that I’d be staying with Kym because she is a ‘total stranger’ and ‘anything could have happened’.

In just one week, Kym, Dale & her son, Zack became my friends. Not only did I have a room to stay, she took me out for dinners and during the weekend, she brought me over to her parents’ place. They have a weekly gathering on Saturdays and her parents, as it turns out, owns a horse ranch further from town. I was invited to ride on the horses, swim in the pool and enjoy free flow of wine; all these from my first meet with them. They loved Malaysia because of the ‘sunny’ weather we have all year long and they loved the rich food and culture Malaysia has, especially Penang.

As they explained to me about their heritage (they were Dutch apparently, but now Australians), they were curious as to why Malaysians cannot see themselves as Malaysians. “Do you see yourself as a Chinese or Malaysian”? I stammered that I am a Malaysian Chinese. “Why do you have to say that you’re Chinese? Can’t you be just Malaysian?” I didn’t know how to answer that question. Why is being a ‘Chinese’ so important to me? Because I want to protect my heritage. Because by acknowledging that I’m Chinese, I’m not a Malay or an Indian. But why does it matter? Because of the differences in religion? Because I don’t want to be associated with another race?

These questions started to bug me as I realized that although I am a Chinese living in Shah Alam, a dominant Malay area, I did not possess the spirit of muhibbah at that point of time. In fact, it made me and my other Chinese friends and family more protective of our ‘minority’ lineage. Although I moved out of Kym’s house 2 weeks later, a bond had been formed and she picked me up every Saturday to have dinner at her parents place, took me on their sight seeing trips, fishing, picnics and they even celebrated my birthday.

Kym and her family, just like Frank and Joyce, have a background NOT from Australia but since they are staying in Australia, with proper Australian passports, they get the same benefits every Australians have, the children study all subjects together (no splitting Muslims for Islamic studies and non Muslims for Moral studies) and pay the same amount of taxes every Australian pay; they see themselves as nothing other than Australians. They see me not as a Chinese living in Malaysia; they see me as Malaysian. There were many other instances that brought me to my muhibbah senses today and ironically, none of them are Malaysians when logically, it should have been taught from my own country since we are a country with ‘cultural harmony’.

Scene 1:
My Hong Kong friends taught me that I am a ‘Malay’ whether I like it or not because Hong Kong sees Malaysian citizens as ‘Malays’ and it doesn’t matter if you’re Muslim, Buddhist, Tamil, Hindu, Kadazans, Bidayuhs whatsoever, as long as you are from Malaysia, you are a ‘Malay’ (their short form for Malaysians). I had a lengthy argument with them once over this issue as I stubbornly called myself ‘Chinese’ and they were annoyed because it doesn’t make any sense to them.

Scene 2:
A senior citizen couple offered me one of their umbrellas as we were waiting under the rain for our busses to arrive. Mind you, Australian busses have schedules and timetables, in sync with the trains and the busses have their own lanes on the road so they are always on time. The sudden shower caught me unprepared and we chit chat for a while. They were Italians who migrated to Perth just a couple of years back to enjoy the laidback lifestyle. A few minutes later, their bus arrived. I hastily returned the umbrella to them but they declined. To this day, I will never forget what the husband said ‘It’s just an umbrella; I can always get a new one. It’s better than you getting sick.’ I was stunned; but his words were ringing in my ear under the rain.

Scene 3:
My housemate and I were walking to Uni and once again, I was caught by the sudden rain (normal in Perth). The two of us started to run when a car stopped by the road and a lady asked if we were going to Uni. We said yes, she asked us to get into her car. Being Malaysians, we were first hesitant but we got in anyway, better than showing up in class all wet. The lady asked us where we were from, and told us that her parents are from South Africa and they migrated to Perth over 15 years ago. I can’t help but to feel that all Australians, no matter their background, were overwhelmingly friendly. She even took the trouble to stop us in front of our course building. This scene is repeated quite a number of times, and it seems that many Australians understand that International students, like myself, are not used to their sudden downpours so they are always prepared to give these students a lift.

In Malaysia, I worry about kidnapping, rape and robbery but somehow, those negative feelings fade as time passes and I learnt the importance of trust. I could have robbed Kym easily yet she invited me to stay in her house. I could have waited under the rain all the time to hijack or rob those car drivers who were so kind to give lifts in time of need. I was confused as to why they weren’t afraid but I was touched by their kindness and as the recipient of such good gestures, I decided that I will be just like them.

The values somehow adjusted when I came back to Malaysia. Because of the high crime rates? Because Malaysians like to take advantage of kindness? I would never dare to invite a stranger to come to my house for dinner or to stay, and neither would I ever dare to give strangers a lift in my car. BUT I started to pay more attention to people in general. Whenever I see a handicapped person who needed help, I’d do my bit. When I see a kid dropped his/her shoe and their parents didn’t notice; I’d pick it up and go after them. When I know someone is looking for parking space in a parking lot, I’d point the direction of my car so they could follow. There were people who loved to chit chat whilst waiting for busses in Perth and I came to understand how a simple form ‘chit chat’ can make your day.

What made me FRUSTRATED however, was a time when I had to carry a large box filled with 40 bottles of Estee Lauder perfumes through an extremely well know shopping mall in KL. I was clearly struggling and neither the security nor any of the mall concierge people did anything. They just stared. People walked by me, minding their own business. Until a young man in business suit asked if I needed help. I said ‘yes’, and he helped carry the heavy box all the way to my car. He just came back from UK and he’s working in one of the office lots outside the mall. When I went back to my office in ntv7, I vented at my boss for not informing me that I was to carry such a heavy box of sponsorship items and when I said ‘luckily got this guy helped me in the end’, her reaction is exactly the same as my colleagues when I related the tale to them. ‘You let him walk you to your car? What if something happened?! What if he ran away with the box of perfumes?!’

I was speechless. Are we, Malaysians really that bad until we had no faith in one another? If we are to realize the 1Malaysia dream, maybe its time we have a little more faith in one another and treat all Malaysians as equal. A person in need of help is a person in need of help. End of story. We often pride ourselves on Malaysian Hospitality and while I believe it exists in some of us, it’s time we take it to a higher level to speed up the 1Malaysia process. Do I now see myself as a Malaysian or a Chinese living in Malaysia? It’s gone from 0% vs 100% to 60% vs 40%.