Crossroads

I have been back for almost 5 months now. Even though, my decision to come back has pretty much been finalized, I am still getting asked over and over again by people around me – be it relatives, friends, random strangers or people I just met – the same question that I was asked when I first came back:

“You don’t like Vancouver?” They ask me.

“I love Vancouver,” I reply, genuinely meaning every single word.

“Then, why did you come back??”

My reply was always the same: I came back for my parents. To try working in Asia. That no matter what, this was my home – where I belong.

And even though I spoke the truth, I couldn’t help but secretly wonder if I had made the right decision to return home.

I recently came across an article in Malaysia Today, entitled Don’t Come Home, Son. The article talks about a Malaysian who regrets not heeding his father’s visionary advice to remain in the UK after he graduates but instead chooses to return home – and three decades later, finally realizing the vision through his father’s eyes, he decides to leave the country after all and hopes that his children will not be as short-sighted as he was.

The author’s words plunged into my heart like an anchor, sinking it into a bottomless pit with a sense of dread, fear and uncertainty flooding my emotions. Even though life in Malaysia has been great so far, I am afraid that with time, I would share the author’s mentality – that is, to regret leaving beautiful Vancouver. It doesn’t help that after all this time, this is pretty much what my dad still tells me – don’t come home. Stay in Canada. Or you will regret it.

As my father, he is happy that I am back home and he can now permanently enjoy the company of his cheerful, happy, favourite daughter (that’s me) on a daily basis.

Yet at the same time – as a father – he wants only the best for me, which is, in his personal opinion, to build my life in anywhere in the world but Malaysia.

It is really discouraging – to return home and find everyone here disheartened, losing faith, and thinking of leaving – not for the sake of themselves, but for the sake of their children. To have everyone ask me at least once, why I had chosen to come back. One friend even said, and I quote: “I give you two years till you decide that this country isn’t worth it.” Lol, we’ll see about that.

I recently went for a body check-up and the doctor, whom I was meeting for the first time, asked me why I came back and when I provided my reasons, she said this:

“If you choose to come back, the only way to be happy is to live like an expat – which is, not caring about the government or how things are run, and just live your own life. But then again, you can’t help but start caring when you have kids. So, eventually you’re screwed anyway.”

When I asked if she was one of those people who chose to remain ignorant on the country’s politics and if she was happy, her tone and the comments that followed led me to believe that she wasn’t anywhere near the “living like an expat” mentality. Or rather, it appears that the country has inflicted such permanent scars on her youth – given the fact that she was a local graduate – that she continues to be very much bitter about her experience with discrimination that exists when pursuing a degree in Malaysian universities. (But then again, she turned out fine and seems to be doing pretty well.)

And I don’t blame her. It is difficult to ignore the growing concerns in the country – even the most ignorant person in the world would realize that something was not quite right.

Earlier this month, Malaysia’s former Prime Minister made a comment on the double standards imposed by the government in their policies. Below is an excerpt taken from The Malaysian Insider:

Dr Mahathir also defended the social contract, the so-called unwritten agreement between the Malays and the non-Malays during independence, by affirming that without the agreement, Malaysia would not have been formed.

“If there was no social contract, the terms and conditions of allowing citizenship to non-Malays would have not taken place. One million outsiders were given citizenships at the time.”

Click here to read full article.

I was not happy when I read that. The government (although Dr M is technically no longer a part of the government…) continues to talk about the past, how “outsiders” were granted citizenships and how today’s “outsiders” should bow to them in humble gratefulness for granting us that citizenship. Hello. We are in 2010 now. Today’s “outsiders” have every right to their citizenship. 12 million immigrants have crossed the border through Ellis Island into New York City since the 19th century – if it weren’t for them, New York City wouldn’t be the same today. Why is it that these outsiders can eventually be part of the family, whereas we, “outsiders” in Malaysia, continue to be reminded everyday that we are “outsiders”, even though technically, we were born in the country and if we were outcast by even our own country, sad to say, there really isn’t anywhere else for us to identify with. We can’t very well start being homies with Mainland China, can we. Not even Singapore, who is so geographically and socially close to us in every way possible.

So, political instability and bad governance aside, since we are labelled as “outsiders”, and since the policies and law are unfavourable to us because of the fact that we are “outsiders”, it is only natural that we opt to leave the country. But instead, those who leave the country when times are bad are considered traitors.

I was driving one day and stopped at a traffic light which was right smack in the city centre (intersection of Jalan Tun Razak and Jalan Ampang where there is a huge crossroad near Ampang Park), and I saw an electronic billboard in full view of the public eye that flashed the following words:

(I don’t quite recall the exact words, but the message delivered is pretty much along these lines.)

“Mereka yang berhijrah tidak mematuhi arahan yang telah ditentukan oleh Allah…. etc” (or something like that)

Translation: Those who immigrate are disobeying God… etc (or something like that).

When I saw the words flashing at me and 200 other cars, my first thought was: Did I misinterpret it?

After realizing the message that was being conveyed, I felt a little disgusted at first, and then sad. Disgusted because whoever that had put those words up was putting the fault on people who were migrating elsewhere because their own country can not provide for them. Sad because the people who blamed others for the migration problem that is rising fast, chose such a negative way to retain people in the country – that instead of reflecting on their mistakes and attempting to correct them, they choose to hold on to their miserable pride for dear life and pushes away valuable talent that the country is fast losing to its neighbouring country, and of course, to the rest of the world as well.

Does anyone truly think that it is easy to uproot your life in a place that you’ve known all your life to be home and going to a foreign place to start your life over? Anyone who thinks that migrating to another place is a bed of roses is the dumbest person on earth. The only reason why people are migrating elsewhere in mass volumes is because the country is failing its duty in providing for her people.

More often than not, I would wistfully wish that I wasn’t born in Malaysia. Yes, call me a traitor. Call me a betrayer. Call me whatever you want. But anyone who has been living abroad and is stuck between the two places will agree with me – the calling of the heart to yearn for home, battling the practicality of the mind to choose for a better standard of living as well as to pursue equality and justice for your future generations.

Yes, in my ideal world, I wouldn’t be born in Malaysia. In my ideal world, I would be born in Canada where my family, friends and life would be, where I would know my entire life to be my home, where I didn’t need to have to choose to leave or to stay.

But obviously, life doesn’t work that way. One doesn’t get to choose where he/she is born, or to whom he/she is borne.

So, this is my conclusion – when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade.

Someone asked me recently, since when was I so into politics?

Truth is, I was never into politics. And I don’t think I will ever be 100% dedicated to politics. But I believe in social science. I believe in people. People make what the world is today. People make what the society is today.

I know that I want to be in Malaysia at this point in my life. So, since I am here, while I am here, why not actively try to make a difference? I may be only one insignificant person in this society – but at least at the end of the day, I can say that I am doing my part. Doing my part to help make a change in the country. Doing my part to help make this world a better place (I am still working on this).

And by doing my part, I am not just doing it for the country, the people, or the world if I want to melodramatic (as always), but I am merely doing it for myself – because at the end of the day, I just want to read the newspapers and feel proud of my country. I just want to feel that I am a part of this one big family that I was born into. Not disappointment, wretched anger, and just constant pangs of hopelessness instilled in me.

And for that to happen (or not happen), I can’t do it alone. I need the help of everyone else in this country to make it happen. I need everyone to share my thoughts and to want to work towards that goal.

Not just to vote.

Like I said, I believe in people. The people are the genetic make-up of a country. To really make a change in this country, not only do we need a two-party system, but we also need to rekindle that humanitarian side of us that seems to be embedded too deep within us that it struggles to surface, that compassion that we have somehow lost somewhere along the way in this realistic society of ours.

We have to start caring – caring for the people around us, caring for the environment, caring for our country, caring for other unfortunate souls who needs our help.

And when we start caring, we might just find that we are a little bit happier. That there is still hope in humanity. That, maybe, miracles do happen if we believe them to exist.

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