NOV 4 — Have you ever been abroad and found yourself trying to explain where you’re from to someone? It usually involves mentioning Singapore or Thailand as location markers and at least one reference to the Petronas Twin Towers.
When that fails, you try another tract, this time popular culture over geography and architecture. You tell them about two famous Malaysians, Jimmy Choo and Michelle Yeoh, and as the names leave your mouth, you realise your mistake.
Perplexity turns to confusion, as they try to figure out how a knighted British shoe designer and a Hong Kong action star figure into the whole mix.
Indonesia, everyone has heard of, especially since it is the childhood (and some claim spiritual) home of the Manchurian candidate who’s now running the once-most powerful nation on the planet.
Green curry, Red Shirts and white beaches guarantee instant recognition for Thailand. Which seems grossly unfair, seeing that they already have “The King and I”. Singapore used to be nondescript, but it’s gaining a grudging fame for its little-engine-that-could determination to change that.
If you’re Filipino, you never have to explain where your country is. Everyone’s heard of it. They are also likely to ask you if you sing well, or are interested in working as a nanny but such is the price of fame pinay.
Burma. Heard of U2, Bono? Know the words to Walk On? Even changing its name to Myanmar didn’t affect the country’s name recognition factor.
Admittedly, our lack of fame, while inconvenient, arises from a fairly positive set of circumstances. Having missed the seismic fault-lines by mere miles, we’ve blessedly escaped the natural catastrophes that have plagued many of our neighbours and doomed them to regular appearances in the news cycle.
Despite the ups and downs of our economy, there has been no financial meltdown the likes of Zimbabwe. And while the political situation is heartbreaking to Malaysians, its regional and global ramifications are, in the grand scheme of things, fairly contained.
Even on the scale of authoritarian regimes, ours pales in comparison to the horrors inflicted on our neighbours by their leaders. To put it in cinematic terms, Cambodia had “The Killing Fields” and Indonesia, “The Year of Living Dangerously”. We have “Zoolander”.
There have been some headline grabbers, including the tragic murder of the young Mongolian translator, Altantuya Shaariibuu, and the sense that justice is still waiting to be served on that case.
Mostly, however, the news that does tend to stick in people’s minds tends to be the most banal. Inevitably, it’s a news report of how some group or the other is trying to ban international artists like Adam Lambert or Beyonce from performing for reasons of public morals, Asian values or some purported religious prohibition. Because we’re under the radar to begin with, the takeaway for those not familiar with the country is that of a nation that is boorish, conservative and insecure.
It’s annoying having to explain to foreigners that really, the majority of Malaysians want to see Beyonce in less clothing, not more.
In recent weeks, however, I’ve found some comfort in the two Malaysian teams competing in Season Four of The Amazing Race Asia. They are Ethan and Khairie, two young men who met while in college, and Hilda and Ivan, a husband-wife team who joined the race at the behest of their 11-year old daughter.
All four have run a strong race, although Hilda and Ivan were eliminated in last week’s episode. I feel a particular affinity for each of the contestants. This sense of belonging is all the more surprising because it’s such a random group — a Yemeni-Malay working mother, a Hungarian who has made Malaysia his home, a Malaysian-Chinese raised in Indonesia and a young Sabahan writer. Yet, different as they are, they seem to display a particular sense of humour, a cadence of speech, an openness to others that feels familiar.
So entrenched is the notion of difference in Malaysia — of class, religion, education, language, politics, birthright — that it’s a triumph of the imagination that we can still see ourselves as part of a community with a shared identity.
This sense of commonality reaffirms my conviction that being Malaysian is a shared experience that we can all partake of, equally. There is a resilience that allows our society, at its every-day-lived level, to remain sensible in the face of incendiary comments made and actions taken by politicians.
A rich imagination, common sense and a commitment to each other — simple tools to deflect red paint on suraus and desecrated hosts.
It could be that I’m feeling especially optimistic because I’m homesick living in a city of 12 million people, whose language I barely speak. That is a possibility, I admit.
Whatever the psychology behind my hope, for now at least, when someone in Chengdu asks me where I’m from, I tell them I’m from Malaysia, and ask them if they’re following The Amazing Race Asia. I don’t need you for the moment, Jimmy Choo.
* The views expressed here are the personal opinion of the columnist.
