about me A loner, although do enjoy the occasional companionship, if you can handle it. Enjoys long term friendships, sensitive, ponders a lot about life and people. Sunday, August 16, 2009
Colourblind
[ 6:22 pm ] As far as I could remember, I never thought much of my heritage. It didn’t bother me much while growing up whether I was Chinese or Ceylonese or Indian or whatever. When you’re a kid, it didn’t matter what your race was or whether your friends were Chinese, Indian or Malay. To me, they were just friends, my friends. I wonder how things got complicated when we start growing up? When did the misunderstandings and ‘intolerance’ came in? Oh that’s easy; I know the answer to THAT one. The previous generations of course. When you’re a child, you grow and pick things up through observation. E.g emulating what your parents do/react to situations, listening to adult conversations, television, etc. I knew my mom’s side of the family had issues with a certain race, probably because being the Chinese that they were, aren’t really open to new cultures and differences. Imagine the shock and confusion when my dad and mom started dating. I can only guess what they had to go through. I never did ask my grandparents how they felt. We’re talking about a generation that was fairly new to mix marriages. In primary school, I had a mixed group of friends. I used to like hanging around my Malay friends because I felt really welcomed by them. In fact, the girls that I used to like back then were mostly Malays haha. During recess time we’ll gather behind the school canteen to share our food. I had Indian friends as well, in fact one of my bestest friend in primary school was an Indian boy. Crap, I can’t remember his name. Oh, I had Chinese friends too … I had friends, it didn’t matter what their race were, you get what I’m trying to say? I never had to figure out whether I belong to a particular group or not. Secondary school was different. I studied at a school that was predominantly Chinese. We had 4 Indians and less than 15 Malays in the same form … that’s about 5 classes. I had trouble fitting in; there were a boatload of problems. I realised that people kept to themselves. You don’t see people of different race mixing around. Except for maybe during PE. Even that in itself was a little racist. You’d have 2 teams playing football, the Chinese versus the … others. Oh, guess where I was. Moving on up, I had a pretty defined group of friends. Sad to say, they were mostly Chinese, only because my classmates were Chinese. I had only one Indian friend. As for the Malays, I didn’t have much contact with them. It was superficial at best. I started to feel a lot more comfortable being around my Chinese friends. I could communicate a little in hokkien and mandarin, if not we’ll just speak in Malay (oh the irony). English? Less than 5 of us spoke proficiently. Most couldn’t even string a proper sentence, only God knows how they managed to pass SPM. There was a time when I was 10 or 11, I stopped eating pork. I think it was an influence from my Malay friends, since they don’t eat pork. I got teased by this particular uncle of mine, he could be pretty mean about it. “How can you not eat pork?? You’re Malay is it??” Hah … life sometimes can be filled with sweet ironies. He married a Malay and now have 3 wonderful kids. And yes, he stopped eating pork, while I on the other hand enjoy Siew Paus and Bak Kut Tehs. I am very proud that my family is multi-racial. The racist attitude that my family had pretty much disappeared over time. My aunty communicates with my grandma in Malay, while their children are educated in a Chinese school and speaks fluent Mandarin. My other uncles married Caucasians and Chinese Australians, both of different cultural backgrounds and upbringing. Yes, I am proud of a multi-cultural family and heritage. When will we start looking at people pass their colour? Coz honestly I’m so sick and tired of it. I had a number of experiences that left a bad taste in my mouth. Ok, fine I look like a Malay, Indian whatever, I don’t give a damn about it. There was a time when my ex and I were still dating, (she’s Chinese btw) and we were browsing some wares at Petaling Street. Back in those days, they were manned by mostly Chinese traders. As we walked pass this stall, we could hear him say … “did all the Chinese guys died that you have to date a Malay?” and “a flower is walking with a cow dung” in hokkien. Sometimes, knowing all kinds of Chinese dialects have its advantages and this case, I rather not had heard these things. A couple of stalls forward I found my shirt had RM1 price tags on it. Probably to show what a cheap person I am for dating someone from their community. Bastards. What’s my community then? Ohhhh … let’s talk about puasa month! There was another time while my ex and I were walking down the street holding hands in KL, a Malay man wearing a songkok pointed and shouted at me and said that it was a holy month and we shouldn’t be holding hands. I told him I wasn’t Malay and to that he gave me a dirty and disgusted look. *shrug* While on my way home to Muar during one of my semester break in college, the bus stopped at the highway rest area. I got down and went to the stalls to purchase some junk food. I overheard a Malay stall owner saying, “Dik, gerai orang melayu pun ada, apsal gi orang cina punya?” I glared at him. I don’t really care anymore at this stage of life. I love going to the Ramadan bazaar. I love Malay food, heck, I love eating in Bawang Merah, Subang Jaya. I love banana leaf rice, so much so that I tend to overeat when it comes to that. How can you say that you don’t like the race that’s different from you and yet you partake of their food? That sounds stupid and hypocritical to me. I hate filling up forms. I started ticking ‘lain-lain’ under the race column since form 4. Only because I refuse to accept that I’m neither Chinese nor Indian. My teacher said I should follow my dad’s race. Says who? That’s biologically incorrect. I’m not pure Indian and neither is he an Indian. Why then should I lie? Stupid forms. Fast forward to the present, I still have to go through this shit of ticking either Malay, Chinese, Indian or Lain-Lain on a form. What utter nonsense. I’d like to see this column removed and made illegal in the future. There’s no need for one to know your race. I do think about my future children … I hope they don’t have to go through what I did. Oh wait, they can’t really escape from that. At least they’ll have an old man ready to guide them. They will need to mix with all kinds of races. I can’t have racism in my family. Will be able to accept it if one day in the future when my daughter introduces me to his Indian boyfriend? I hope I would be able to embrace him and make him feel welcomed in the family. Yeah, talk is cheap, remind me if this happens 20 years down the road, and I’ll remind you the worth of my words. "Oh, you’re a mix! How do you feel about it? You must feel very special " To that person who asked me that more than a decade ago, here’s your answer. It sucks to be a Chindian. Pure blood? I am made pure by His blood. This is a non-issue. Anyways, looking forward to Sri Paandi banana leaf rice tonight!! And of course the start of Ramadan next week … that means … Ramadan bazaar! MMmmm Ayam Percik! 1 comments Archives nothing |
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1 Comments:
Harloow rayson!! i find your blog quite intriguing, just read a few and this one.. i can relate. (lain-lain) :)nice stuff you have here. will be reading the others too.
August 19, 2009 3:01 am
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