SEPT 6 — My pre-Merdeka weekend started last Friday night when Ishan fell asleep early. What did I do? Watch television. It wasn’t the latest movie or DVD boxset. Nope. I was totally hooked on a documentary about Malaysia.
Some of you might have caught it too. Titled “The Seasmiths”, it was about the Bajau of Sempurna, in Sabah and was one of four documentaries in the Eye on Malaysia programme aired on the Discovery Channel.
I was captivated by the narrator’s story and the images of the Bajau Laut who free dive to catch their food as well as carve out a meagre existence this way. It also threw a spotlight on the tiny hamlet of Sempurna, where the highlight for the villagers is the annual lepa or traditional boat regatta.
It was a touching piece, captured beautifully by Ikhwan Rivai, a Sabahan himself. And I loved it the most because it was a side of Malaysia I had not seen, idyllic and rustic, like a bygone Malaysia in happier times, though not without its share of problems.
Suhaimi Baba’s “Wind Chucker”, also in the same series, explored the quirky art of the Malay massage to remove trapped wind from the body. I could see my non-Malaysian friends gaping as Ida the masseur kneaded a client’s foot with a stone pestle, when she belched repeatedly and when she placed a steaming hot rock under the sarong of an upstanding woman.
Then there was Denise Keller in Passage to Malaysia showing us the Maliau Basin, one of the best-kept secrets in Sabah, primarily because of its remote location and natural beauty. When the majestic seven-tier waterfall came into the helicopter’s view I almost burst with joy to see how pristine the site looked.
It is easy to get lost in the beauty of our country. Watching these documentaries so far from home, I feel conflicted. On the one hand, I am proud to be associated with such rich culture and heritage. It made me appreciate what has been gifted to us.
On the other, when I read about politicians, people elected to public positions, dumping a cow’s head in public to show their anger at the erection of a Hindu temple in Shah Alam, I am horrified. And embarrassed.
How were things allowed to escalate so far?
The murky business of politics and religion serve largely to mar the charm of our country and her people.
The news about Malaysia that makes it into the pages of the foreign press like The Times and The South China Morning Post are mostly unflattering and serve to dispirit the homesick like me.
Two years ago it was about Lina Joy and a Chinese male who was raised by a Muslim family, details of which escape me now. Both reflected religious intolerance.
Last week, just before we celebrated our 52nd National Day, it was the same issue again, this time with the decapitated cow. Days before was the sentencing of Kartika Sari Dewi Shukarno to six strokes of the rotan for drinking beer.
Reading blogs and comments from Malaysians both at home and abroad, it seems as if there are many of us out there, Muslims included, who are unhappy about what is happening in Malaysia. Many of us are tired of the NEP. We want to be recognised for the merit of our work. We want to go home. But go home to what? Racial tension? Fear?
On a lighter note, I received a forwarded e-mail from an uncle in Australia on Merdeka Day titled All Food comes from India, of the Comedy Court fame. Allan and Indy, thank you for making me smile.
A home-grown comedy duo is making its rounds around the world sharing the other beauties of Malaysia via Youtube. Now this is the kind of thing we need. Malaysians laughing at themselves, able to see the folly of their ways. Not the intolerant, narrow-minded and short-sightedness of a few bad apples.
I want Ishan to be able to call Malaysia home some day. But will he be discriminated against when he goes to school on the basis of his race? Will he be called “sepet” (slit-eyed) and “cina babi” (Chinese pig) and not be allowed to play with the other boys? If only we can see things through his eyes, which for now see no skin colour or religion, only friends.
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