Orphans of the Empire

It feels strange being back in KL. One needs to get adjusted to the harshness of the city. Having been accustomed to Javanese politeness and courtesy, KLites seem indifferent, unfriendly and aggressive.

All that driving through the roads of KL and PJ makes me feel very exhausted: the tedium of passing through tollgate after tollgate; the endless search for parking spaces and the frustration of being stuck in traffic jams that appear seemingly out of nowhere.

At the same time, I love the ubiquitous mamak stalls, the look of well-fed prosperity among the population and the multi-ethnicity of the society. I always feel that there's no dearth of talents among Malaysians. Our diverse mix of people and culture is our greatest strength.

In one of the short stories by Paul Theroux in The Consul's File (which is about the adventures of an American consul based in the town of Ayer Itam in Johor), he describes the Malaysian people as the "Orphans of the Empire". We are the abandoned children of our colonial masters. They left behind a curious mix of people who somehow have found a formula to coexist together, albeit a precarious one.

In many ways, the term "orphan" is an apt description. I've always felt that if I don't call myself a Malaysian, I have no identity. I am Malay-educated and was schooled in Malaysia, 100 percent. I am comfortable speaking English but it is not my mother tongue. I don't speak Mandarin and my Cantonese volcabulary is very limited. I struggle to converse in the dialect everytime I speak with my colleagues in HK.

I enjoy speaking Malay (if fact I used to speak Malay more often than English during my schooldays) but I hardly read anything in the language. That alone makes me Malay-illiterate, in a sense. Unfortunately it is also never used in the business world. Though my taste in books, art and music is solely Western, I don't consider myself Westernized either.

I am very comfortable living among Indonesians but my accent still betrays me. And there are a lot of differences between Bahasa Melayu and Bahasa Indonesia. Sometimes I feel that knowing Melayu is actually a stumbling block to speaking good authentic Indonesian because you cling to your habit of using words like "bila" and "tak" instead of "kapan" and "enggak".

I have worked for four years in Singapore and could have settled down there permanently if I wanted to, like what many of my friends did; but I've never felt any affinity to the island state or its people. At best it is only a very comfortable place to live in--like a good hotel.

Who am I then? Theroux is right. I am an orphan of the Empire: I feel at home in Malaysia because it is my orphanage. And I am eternally grateful.