My blood will spill on this land

31 August is Malaysia’s Independence Day. So it’s time for my annual reflections about being a Malaysian.

I like watching videos of tourists making videos of their trips to Kuala Lumpur. Apparently, it’s a very Malaysian thing to watch these videos.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ZlJOrgzrSU&ab_channel=TRAVELiving%3ANoelleandJonathan%27sLifeAdventures

(Though each time I watch these videos, I think: Seriously, guys? Do you think we live in mud huts or something? By the way, our modernity surprises only folks from the West. Folks from China usually say: “It’s not as advanced as we are, but it’s comfortable travelling there at least.”)

Some say it’s down to our insecurity as Malaysians, we just like to be reassured that we’re awesome, and these foreigners most assuredly would say something nice and complimentary about Malaysia.

For me, I probably have a bit of the latter and also this: I’ve been down and negative about Malaysia all my life, and it’s good to be reminded about the good things we have in the country that we take for granted.

While a lot of Americans believe in the exceptional qualities about their country, many Malaysians, especially non-Malaysians, view Malaysia in a negative, almost inferior light.

I grew up with the “Malaysia has no future” mantra espoused by so many that I felt that the only way I could have a future was to escape the country. I was 12 when I started having these thoughts.

When I was 19, I finally did “escape” when I received a scholarship to study in Australia. When I was there, a Malaysian chided me for “always speaking ill of Malaysia.”

But back then, I was hugely bitter about the fact that educational opportunities for me, as a Chinese Malaysian, were limited and I had to work so very hard to finish my degree. Many had to go overseas to get an education, and only the wealthy could do that. As someone from a middle-class family, that was a pipe dream.

In fact, I could only complete my degree due to sheer luck and fortune.

When the Asian financial crisis hit from 1997 to 1998, many of us could not even finish our degrees because of the skyrocketing exchange rates. And I nearly became one of them. Instead of transferring my diploma credits to an overseas university to finish my degree as I had planned, I decided to work instead.

But one day, I decided to apply for an Australian university on impulse, which I knew I could not afford. I thought, “At least it would satisfy me to be accepted.”

When I received the offer letter, it was bittersweet. I was qualified to finish my degree in Australia, but there was no way I could do it because the economic crisis had shrunk the value of the ringgit. What was barely affordable for my family before was now beyond my reach.

But then, the dean of my college told me that the university offered me a partial scholarship. I still remember the scream I let out in the office when I heard the news. The scholarship was enough to allow me to complete my degree, though my dad still had to fork out a large sum to enable me to do it. But it was no longer an impossible sum.

So, I worked in Australia to supplement my living expenses. I brought some money back to my dad, but it was a fraction of what he had slaved to save for me.

So, yeah, I don’t take my education for granted, and I had a lot of baggage when I was in Australia in 1999.

I could’ve joined the many students who stayed back in Australia to get a PR, but I didn’t.

Mostly because I was afraid of carving a life without my family. I had lived a sheltered life, after all, and could not even get the courage to travel to Melbourne on my own!

But then, after I became a journalist, I was forced to travel the world on my own for work. I say “forced” because I’m too sheltered and unadventurous to travel the world on my own.

I visited United States, cities such as San Francisco, Los Angeles, New York, San Diego. I once travelled around the United Kingdom via train, getting the chance to walk the streets where Shakespeare walked in Stratford-upon-Avon, and attended a (not the real band) Beatles show at Liverpool. I visited Manchester, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland.

And of course, I’ve visited Asia extensively: Thailand, Indonesia, South Korea, China at various points in her development and watched in amazement as she developed at astounding speeds.

And then I finally did it – moved to Australia proper, and with a PR to boot! Why I did that is very complicated, but let’s just say a mid-life crisis drove my decision.

But all this only helped me love Malaysia more, despite her flaws. It’s hard to explain, as Malaysia is clearly at a disadvantage, and let’s admit it, suck at many things. But I’m in love with the passion of her people. Watching democracy grow from the watershed year of 2008 to seeing Anwar Ibrahim, the oft-imprisoned opposition leader become the 10th Prime Minister of Malaysia? What a time to be alive and I’m glad I played a teeny weeny part by casting my vote to make it all happen.

In a way, it’s weird to love Malaysia. In many ways, Malaysia has shown how much she resents and disdains me by denying me opportunities because of the colour of my skin. She has also shown me that she loves me too through her kind and generous people, who are often warm-hearted and inviting.

When I was in Australia thinking of whether to cling on to or abandon my much-treasured permanent resident status, I remembered thinking: “I don’t want to just exist in comfort. I want to be part of something that grows.”

I was having a comfortable life in Australia, but I felt like a leech, almost. I worked enough and without ambition just to get enough money to enjoy the beaches, the parks and libraries. But what if I returned to Malaysia to help build these beaches, parks and libraries, rather than enjoy what was already being built?

So perhaps I’m a really odd person because I preferred to do the latter.

It’s tough living in Malaysia. But I love it in my way. Perhaps the love is unrequited, but my ancestors have been here for almost two centuries. I might as well accept that this is the land where my blood will spill*.

Cultural notes

The title of this issue refers to the phrase Tanah tumpahnya darahku (Malay for “the land where my blood will spill”). This sentence is part of our national song, Negaraku (My Country)

https://youtu.be/Kpi8lB4srDU?feature=shared

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