In flux

Friday, August 31, 2007

Happy 50th birthday Malaysia

On a recent global training programme for my firm, I met a Malaysia colleague, who happens to be bumiputera ("son of the earth"), who expressed surprise that I didn't want to go back to Malaysia: "Why?" he asked. I looked at him like he like he had two heads and three eyes. Was he actually seriously asking me that question? And with a straight face! I wasn't sure if I could tell him the truth. Later on, in our second encounter, I did. I said: I don't want to go back because of the bumiputera situation, no offense to you.

This weekend, my housemate urged me to read "The Singapore Story" which shed light on why the relations between our countries (he is Singaporean) are the way they are now. I resisted reading the book. I feel divorced from my country. A line has been drawn between. All I want to know is why, who, how some moronic chinese twerp gave himself the right to speak for all the chinese in malaysia and signed away the rights of all future generations of malaysian chinese, in some ridiculous "social contract". I feel sick just thinking about it. With the passing years spent away from my country, I feel increasingly bitter about the situation in my homeland, and increasingly alienated. I don't want to have anything to do with my country anymore, sometimes.

I thank The Economist for giving voice to the Malaysians who are discriminated against. See below article:

"Title: Tall buildings, narrow minds

After 50 years, Malaysia should stop treating a third of its people as not-quite-citizens

THE government of Malaysia has laid on all sorts of grand pageantry this weekend, to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Malay peninsula's independence from Britain. There is much to celebrate. Living standards and access to education, health services, sanitation and electricity have soared during those five decades of sovereignty. The country's remarkable modernisation drive was symbolised, nine years ago, by the completion of the Petronas twin towers, in Kuala Lumpur, then the world's tallest buildings.

Yet there will be a hollow ring to the festivities. Malaysia's 50th birthday comes at a time of rising resentment by ethnic Chinese and Indians, together over one-third of the population, at the continuing, systematic discrimination they suffer in favour of the majority bumiputra, or sons of the soil, as Malays and other indigenous groups are called. There are also worries about creeping “Islamisation” among the Malay Muslim majority of what has been a largely secular country, and about the increasingly separate lives that Malay, Chinese and Indian Malaysians are leading. More so than at independence, it is lamented, the different races learn in separate schools, eat separately, work separately and socialise separately. Some are asking: is there really such a thing as a Malaysian?

The pro-bumiputra discrimination was laid down in the country's first constitution, in 1957, to ease Malays' fears of being marginalised by the Chinese and Indian migrants. These had come, supposedly temporarily, to work in the tin mines and plantations but were settling permanently and increasingly dominating business and the professions. The perks were extended greatly after race riots in 1969. Malays get privileged access to public-sector jobs, university places, stockmarket flotations and, above all, government contracts. The most notable result, as with South Africa's similar policy of “black economic empowerment”, has been “encronyment”—the enrichment of those well connected to the United Malays National Organisation (UMNO), the party that has led all governments since independence. Malays as a whole, like other races, have got richer but the gap between the Malay haves and have-nots has widened. The corruption and waste these policies engender seem to have got worse in recent years.

As criticism has grown, UMNO's leaders have resorted ever more frequently to growling that nobody should question the “social contract”. This is a reference to the metaphorical deal struck between the races at independence, in which the Malays got recognition that the country was basically theirs, while the Chinese and Indians were granted citizenship. The veiled threat of violence lurking behind calls to uphold the social contract was made explicit during last year's UMNO conference, at which one delegate talked of being ready to “bathe in blood” to defend Malay privileges and the education minister, no less, brandished a traditional Malay dagger.

The hypocritical Malay dilemma

The social contract may once have seemed necessary to keep the peace but now it and the official racism that it is used to justify look indefensible: it is absurd and unjust to tell the children of families that have lived in Malaysia for generations that, in effect, they are lucky not to be deported and will have to put up with second-class treatment for the rest of their lives, in the name of “racial harmony”. When the mild-mannered Abdullah Badawi took over as prime minister from the fire-breathing Mahathir Mohamad in 2003, there were hopes of change for the better. Mr Badawi preached a moderate, “civilisational” Islam and pledged to crack down on corruption.

Four years on, corruption, facilitated by the pro-Malay policies, is unchecked. The state continues to use draconian internal-security laws, dating back to the colonial era, to silence and threaten critics. UMNO continues to portray itself to Malays as the defender of their privileges yet tries to convince everyone else that it is the guarantor of racial harmony. One commentator this week gently described this as a “paradox”. Hypocrisy would be a better word.

The damage caused by this state racism is ever more evident. Malaysia's once sparkling growth rate has slipped. Racial quotas and protectionism are scaring away some foreign investors. While Malaysians celebrate having done rather better than former British colonies in Africa, they must also notice that South Korea, Taiwan and their estranged ex-spouse Singapore have done much better still. The economic consequences alone justify ending Malaysia's official racism. Even without them, it would still be just plain wrong."

source: economist.com

Thursday, August 30, 2007

Petrified

My body is driving me nuts.

In addition to my usual crush-a-minute, I have been strangely, powerfully, chemically attracted to wildly improbable and inappropriate boys recently. It's as if a kind of genetic, biological switch has been turned on post 25th birthday (tick tock tick tock?) and my body is crazily throwing off pheromones.

Suddenly I'm not only attracted to my usual sort of either: i) intelligent, ii) good-looking, or iii) stylishly aloof boys (admittedly friends insist my tastes border on the unconventional to the downright weird), but also to boys that it really makes no sense for me to find attractive. Yet recently I've been drawn to at two boys in a decidedly chemical way. And I don't know what to do with this attraction. Do I act on it? (How?) Suppress it? Ignore it?

Is this natural? What do I do to prevent this inconvenient chemistry? I'm feeling lost and inexperienced. The truth is, I don't know what I want.

Sunday, August 19, 2007

i am officially an idiot

yes, it's true.

I meet a perfectly eligible decent-looking man with whom i've had an hour and a half's worth of great conversation in a lovely bar in Notting Hill, and I panic and hop into the first cab I see, without saying a proper goodbye or giving him a chance to get my number.

What is wrong with me? Why do I always do that?! Arggghhhhh!!

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Negaraku

"Negaraku" - malay for "My country", also the title of my national anthem.

This is the you-tube rap video that has made it all over the Malaysian/Malaysian-related online community late last week (yeah, I know, an internet age ago). It's really quite good - musically, as well as the salient points the rap makes. The rap is really satirical and funny, and very true. (I'll translate it some day when I have the time)

I actually only got sent the video link after I got an email from a colleague, a Brit who had lived in Malaysia for 4 years during his youth, with a news article with the title: "Malaysia in quandary over YouTube rapper" (full text below, after this post).

The government claims the video is seditious, and the foreign minister (whose name I had never heard of before 10 Aug) is quoted as having said: "I don't understand how a person can do that sort of thing". It makes me laugh.

How can a person do that sort of thing??

The question rather is: how can Mr Foreign Minister himself have the gall to even raise his head to face the world, and say something as ridiculously ironic as that?

Does he think the entire world is deaf, blind, and mute?

Anyone who knows anything at all about Malaysia knows the situation. My above-mentioned colleague who had lived there and studied in an international school. He was forwarded he article by other foreign friends who probably used to go to school with him. Even my French classmate who had only lived in Malaysia for a mere 5 months more than 10 years ago, knew of the gross racial discrimination, learnt the racial stereotypes, and still remembers. And he'd only been there for a mere 5 months!

Malaysia has been haemorrhaging her best people and will continue to do so unless things change. I suppose the government thinks there will always be sufficient chinese (and indians) who stay on to keep the economy afloat, and keep things ticking over. I have sympathy for those who don't have the means to escape. But for those who have the means/skills to migrate, I don't know why they remain.

I won't be rejected my own country, treated as a second class citizen, just for being of the wrong faith, and having the wrong skin colour. It is ridiculous. I simply won't stand for it. It's not that I don't love my country. I love her lands-her mountains, rice fields, rainforests, islands, and reefs. I love Malaysian food. But the last time someone asked me: "How do you feel about your country?" I responded, after some thought: "I love the Malaysia, the geographical entity", and the boy, who I'd just gotten to know responded: "Wow, you are clearly passionate and patriotic huh" And I had to explain. Why a girl like me, who had truly been patriotic when I was young, has to be so restrained in her statements now.

Malaysia has just turned 50. It's time to mature, to be responsible, to let your citizens including the native "bumiputeras" (literally princes of the earth) take responsibility for their own lives and actions. To acknowledge past wrongs, and start afresh, the right way this time.

Article below:
"Malaysia in quandary over YouTube rapper

From correspondents in Kuala Lumpur

August 10, 2007 04:53am

MALAYSIA faces hurdles in its attempt to prosecute a student for rapping in a YouTube video to the national anthem using allegedly seditious lyrics, the foreign minister said today.

Foreign Minister Syed Hamid Albar said it was unlikely the Malaysian student could be recalled from a Taiwan university, amid outrage from rights groups over the Government's threat to lay sedition charges.

"If a Malaysian citizen commits something unlawful under Malaysian law in a foreign land, we cannot recall him or her except to frame charges," Syed Hamid told reporters.

"We can recall him if he is on a government scholarship. Once the charges are in place only then we can apply for an extradition and that also depends on whether there is an extradition treaty between us and that particular country." Malaysia does not have an extradition treaty with Taiwan.

Wee Meng Chee, 24, known as Namewee on the Internet, has developed a cult following of sorts among young Malaysians after airing a six-minute rap video on YouTube that has been viewed by over half a million people.

The rap, a mixture of Mandarin and Bahasa, contains lyrics that the government said touched on racially sensitive issues. It also portrays Malaysian police as corrupt extortionists, the government said.

Authorities earlier said they were investigating whether Namewee could be prosecuted under Malaysia's strict Sedition Act, which is punishable by up to three years in prison and a 5000-ringgit fine.

But rights groups countered that the move was represssive and disregarded basic rights such as freedom of expression.

Syed Hamid said todayy it was up to the police and the attorney general to decide the next course of action against Namawee.

"I don't understand how a person can do that sort of thing," Syed Hamid said, referring to Namawee's video.

Malaysia does not tolerate open dissent against the government, and often uses the Sedition Act to muzzle critics, rights groups charge.

Namewee's case comes just a month after Prime Minister Abduallah Ahmad Badawi warned Internet bloggers that his government would take action against those overstepping their bounds."

source: http://www.news.com.au/entertainment/story/0,23663,22220529-10388,00.html

Wednesday, August 08, 2007

House-shopping travails of a single girl in London, part 1

So I took the very first preliminary baby-steps today, and went to view 3 properties in the Marylebone area (two 1-bed, one 2-bed) and choked. Ladies and gentleman, look at me carefully - you see before you the face of a life-long tenant!

For the amount I was expected to cough up, I certainly wasn't getting much! So I wanted Marylebone because of the location, and the estate agent said that the price was very reasonable for the location. Well yeah.. if the location was actually nice! I've discovered that some areas of Marylebone, though nearish the park and the main Marylebone Road, aren't particularly savourable or attractive at all.

And my previous idea of buying an older flat - none of that ultra modern, bright and shiny, spanking new builds for me, I prefer an older flat with in a quaint historical building with character, thought I - has taken quite a beating. There's something to be said for an in-built gym, modern amenities, porterage etc. The places I went to were, if not exactly decrepit, were nonetheless very dated - think narrow, steep steps, in short (at least!), shabby-exteriored buildings on top of commercial shops. Hmm... maybe I should scratch out "character" and put "cosmetics" and "convenience" on the list instead.

Seriously, I'm shocked at just how little money can buy in London! Suddenly, the idea of leaving London seems that much more appealing, and renting seems that much more attractive (even though my landlady is planning on increasing the rent, to what I thought was an exorbitant amount before today)... my rent, even after the increase, is so much lower and affords me a much better space, than what I would get if I bought and paid my mortgage monthly.

Now I understand why so many couples are rushing to buy a house together so soon after they get together (French girl's friend bought a house with her boyfriend-now-turned-fiance after a mere 3 months into the relationship, and Dutch boy's friend bought a house with his girlfriend I think it was about a month (!!) after they got together). I used to think that was foolhardy and reckless. Now I think it was probably just practical and necessary.

So it's back to the drawing board. I'll try the Bayswater area next, on Dutch boy's suggestion. Or maybe even the East. I'm beginning to think that East > West after all..

Sunday, August 05, 2007

My first: Belly-dancing

Today I finally went for my first ever belly-dancing lesson/workshop. After years and years of talking about it and wanting to go for lessons - I remember the first time I was meant to take belly-dancing lessons was either in my late secondary school or early JC days, back in 1998-1999. It was an old school-friend who had suggested it, the same girl who had suggested going for French classes at Alliance Francaise in Singapore. My spirit was always willing to take up new ventures and adventures, but my flesh was weak - I was always mostly too broke, or otherwise too busy to pursue all the interests or learning opportunities that were available. (Hence my realisation that I had too many wants, and therefore needed to earns lots of money to feed my greed for life experiences)

Since I've started working, I've wanted to try out belly-dancing as well, but it's been difficult finding weekend classes - most belly-dancing classes are on weekdays. And then again for the first couple of years I was working too hard to even get out of bed most weekends when I was granted reprieve from work. The lack of belly-dancing companions did not help in overcoming my inertia either. I prefer to do things with people, but several attempts to persuade people to join were met by: "let's do salsa/tango instead?" or otherwise, in typical City fashion, there are always cancellations, delays, etc. Theoretical agreements to go for rock-climbing/wine-tasting etc. courses have rarely come to fruition due to a combination of lack of co-ordination, procrastination, or just lack of will.

So this time, I got fed up. I wanted a quiet weekend in to recuperate from my post-holiday jetlag, to tidy up my room. But at the last moment, I thought I might as well try something new on Sunday, so I searched the web for belly-dancing classes, et voila! there was a workshop today, and I called to reserve a last-minute spot.

It was interesting, and actually much harder work than I had expected. And I've discovered I have two-left feet. Funnily enough, people who see my dancing in clubs think I'm a good dancer. That's mostly because I enjoy the rhythm and let myself go with the flow in clubs. But I've realised that I'm really quite bad at organised dancing - I'm always mixing up left and right, struggle with learning movements, and am as stiff as a marionette when I'm trying to follow specific steps as part of a broken down choreography. It's a humbling experience.

Nonetheless, it's fun and challenging, and I want to go for the next workshop at the end of September. Learning and new experiences give me great joy because it means I'm living and growing!

Infatuation

It's official, I'm back to my awkward, ditzy, day-dreamy adolescent days..

I'm completely infatuated with my french summer course class mate! he's this tall, tanned, fit, slightly rough-around-the-edges yet intellectual-looking bespectacled English guy with adorably messy golden brown hair, and some fuzz on his forearms. I had initially dismissed him as a good-looking (oh yes, that much was undeniable), but cocky American summer student with his red crew-neck T-shirt imprinted with "NY" on the front, and his laid back slouch against his seat. A pity, I had thought. The largest french class I'd ever had at Alliance Francais, and the best looking guy there had to be an undoubtedly arrogant good-looking American jock.

Then during the course of the class, my teacher asked us to state where we were from and then we had to think about a famous/important person from our country and present a brief biography of said person. That's when I found out he was English. English!! My heart leapt with joy and hope! He was not an arrogant twat! If he were American, he would definitely be a university jock, but if he were English, he was Definitely not a university student. I can identify English students, and he didn't fit into the category.

When my turn came, I was almost faint with hunger, because I had not eaten breakfast and it was almost 12 noon by then. I spoke about Tunku Abdul Rahman, known as the "Father of Malaysia", wanting the entire episode to end as quickly as possible so I could have a croissant to blunt the edge of my hunger.

But my boy asked me a question: "Est-ce que il y a un statue de Tunku Abdul Rahman à KL"? (Is there a statue of Tunku Abdul Rahman in KL)

KL! He used the familiar acronym of the capital city of my country, Kuala Lumpur! How, why? He's been there, he knows my country! Questions and thoughts ran amok in my head as I replied: "Je ne sais pas" ( I don't know)

He went on: "J'ai travaillé à KL et je ne l'ai pas vu là" (I worked in KL and I did not see it there)

He worked in KL! He worked in KL! He worked in KL! He's expressing interest in my pointless topic , asking questions! I wanted to ask why, how, when. I forgot my hunger, but was still aware of the other students around the class, so I resisted pursuing my questions and shrugged: "Je ne sais pas"

It was another student's turn. I checked his hands. No ring!

And then it was break time. He moved quickly out of the class and my heart fell. But I was happy to catch up with my old classmates W and B and walked out with them to get coffee at our usual corner café. On the way to the café, I saw my boy leaning against a fence, texting someone (his girlfriend??) on his mobile phone.

He bought coffee after we did, and joined us on the sidewalk where we were standing around, talking. He stood next to me. I turned to him and asked when he worked in KL and how long for.

He's an architect, he was there for 5 months in a tiny 5-man firm after his studies. I scrunched up my face: was it the Petronas towers you were there for, the tallest building in the world and that? No, apparently, there's this really famous and good Malaysian architect who also lectures here and that's what he went there for (either to study with the guy or work for him, or be near him, i forget which, given that i was struggling to actually listen to his words..). He said that when he was there, the Petronas towers were only halfway built.

"But that was a long time ago!" I exclaimed.

He scrunched up his face in a pained expression: "Ouch." I was slightly flustered - I didn't mean to imply that he was old (I don't want him to think I'm too young!), although that means he's probably mid-30s. He said it must have been 1995 or so.. and we continued speaking, about Malaysia, that companies need both Chinese and Malay directors (he knows that and remembers!), about roti canai, the food, how I hate the weather and creepy crawlies (he had a cockroach story), and he was telling me there was a really good Malaysian restaurant in Westbourne Grove, did I know it? By this time, we were back in the classroom and standing apart, on the opposite sides of the room, in the midst of sitting students.

Oh how I wanted to continue the conversation, but we sat opposite each other on different sides of the room!

It's purely physical attraction at this stage I know. I barely know anything about him... but at least he's been to Malaysia, he says he loves Malaysia, loves the food (Oh!), particularly roti canai (!!). He's unmarried, which seems almost too good to be true, but surely he must have a girlfriend??

But for now, it's great to feel so alive! This instant, electrical attraction, I hope it's mutual. And that he's unemcumbered...

I mean, he's an Architect! When I was younger, I wanted to be an architect, a profession with a combination of art and science. And he is older, which is great, with really sexy crow's feet around his eyes, tanned (suggesting he's sporty), he's cosmopolitan (having travelled abroad and wanting to learn french), knowledgeable about and appreciative of my culture and background. I love his care-free, boyish, yet slightly intellectual air. And he cycles! How perfect is he to sweep me off my feet?

I need some feet-sweeping please, dear world! And let this be the boy... obviously not necessarily to marry... but I really fancy him (in a bit of a ditzy way).. but get us at least get to the get-to-know-each-other stage so we can both decide (and please let him be single..). So please, kindly give me a nice surprise for my 25th birthday present, and let some magic happen! (and also change my job/team)

xoxo

Thursday, August 02, 2007

A quick dip

I have not posted for a full calendar month - the month of July! Unprecedented, unbelievable, unforgivable! My birthday month, no less. But I was away on my whirlwind holiday with neither time nor wish to think. I wanted a proper break from the regular world, responsibilities, patterns, behaviour...

It was a good break. I came back to work very jetlagged, yet with more enthusiasm and energy than I had felt in months! It was probably due to the fact that I was still drug-high on the adrenaline of scuba diving (more waxing lyrical about that another time, promise!). I spent so much time bouncing around, almost buzzing with repressed excitement, and searching the web for my next potential dive course, trip, sites... and surprising too, my lightness was due to the fact that the French girl and Dutch boy were not around. It's funny how, although I'm really fond of them, it's still nice to have a kind of psychological/psychic breathing space around me that is uplifting. And of course, the fact that Cavé is not around. Again, funny that someone I'm so deeply fond of oppresses (yes, oppresses!) me mentally. I guess it was just the fact that it was the norm, routine had become a rut, and the daily humdrum were steel bands that bound me tightly so I couldn't breathe.

I return renewed, refreshed, reinvigorated! (and repetitive and alliterative too)

I'm in a slight flurry of activity, trying to organise my life. I finally did a bit more desktop research into the possibility of buying a place (now that I'm not paralysed by fear, enervation, and depression) and the shock of the potential monthly mortgage payments floored me. I'm thinking I'll have to subsist of Jacob crackers like I did for several months during my A-level days when I was flat broke.

The scary thought of being a life-long tenant or worse - a potential homeless hobo once my banking days are up, after being chewed up and spat out old, decrepit, broken at a prematurely-aged 35 - propelled me into action. I finally actually came up with a weekly budget and a not-too-onerous system of expenditure tracking that I have the slightest whisper of a hope of sustaining. Funnily enough, I hate the idea of budgets and expenses, and hate the necessity of it. I prefer earning a decent amount of money and relying on my general common sense approach to spending money to keep me within my financial limit. But alas! the level of financial commitment required for buying a property (and it seems everyone is buying!) and driven me to the desperate measure of budgeting!

I'll crash now, and write more on the weekend.


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