People in Boxes: Someone said I wasn't Malay-Malay and Esquire called Jay-Z "Black Black". So what race-race are we?

“Hi there, my friends and I, over at that table, you see that table over there? Yes, we have a bet going on...........We were wondering whether you could help us out. Actually, I think you certainly can......”

Oh great. No. Whatever it is you have to say. No. It was a little after lunchtime on a Saturday and I was in Mont Kiara, having pasta and coffee with an old friend. We were talking about the very interesting subject of my bladder. Yes. Something about it being either the size of Texas or made out of double reinforced steel or both. And how my friend’s bladder is the size of a pea and made out of tissue paper. Yes, zexxxy. My friend needed to run off to the ladies and pee again. The woman needs to wear a diaper, I tell you.

And the moment my friend left, Mr. Bet #1 came over. His face was flushed red and greasy from the afternoon’s heat. His belly wobbled like 100 pounds of pure gelatine placed on top of an old washing machine. He was old too. “So, we’ve been looking at you, right... and one friend of mine bet a 100 ringgit that you’re Japanese, I’m pretty sure that you’re Chinese and another friend claims that you’re of uncertain mixed parentage. Help us out, here. What are you?”

What am I? What I am is annoyed. If you want to place bets and gamble, ask someone to point you to the nearest authorized 4D counter. Or what about Genting Highlands? Do I look like a Vegas crap table to you? A deck of cards? Woohoo black jack!

My friend returned with a relieved bladder and a dude-who-the-fuck-is-this-guy look on her face.

“And what about you?” Mr Bet #1 asked my friend, “Are you Chinese? Pilipino?”

“Malaysian,” my friend answered with one raised eyebrow.

“Do you girls want to join us for a drink?” he asked.

“No thanks,” I said, “We’re kind of in the middle of something.”

“Are you sure? Let us buy you a drink.....”

This is a decent restaurant. It ain’t no sleazy pick-up joint, asshole. Wrong place. Turn left at the exit straight down to fuck off.

“We’re sure.”

Mr Bet #1 left with his giant belly wobbling meters ahead of him. “Geez, I can’t leave you alone for two seconds.....” my friend said to me, laughing. Ugh. I always get the gross ones. I feel like those garbage filters they stick in rivers. My friend and I tried to resume with regular programming but 5 minutes had not passed before friend of Mr Bet #1 approached us. Let’s call him Mr. Bet #2.

“Hi, so my friend established that you’re Malaysian but what kind of Malaysian?” he asked me.

What kind of Malaysian?! What kind of Malaysian?! “Malay.” There. Are you happy? Can you buzz off now?

“Are you sure?”

Am I sure?! Am I sure?! What is this? Who Wants to be a Millionaire? Oh, this is a tough one. Hold on, let me ask the audience. Maybe they’ll give me the right answer. Wait, wait, let me use my “talian hayat”. What? Mom? I’m Malay? Oh, ok, “Yes.”

“Well, maybe you two can join us for a drink?”

“No, thanks. We really don’t want to be disturbed.”

“Oh, okay then,” said Mr. Bet #2 scampered off. Another 5 minutes went by and a third friend of Mr. Bet #1 came along. Please welcome Mr. Bet #3.

“Hi, I’m really sorry for bothering you......My name’s Ian. How are you two doing? So you’re... Chinese,” Mr. Bet #3 said to my friend and to me he said, “You’re probably Malay but you’re not fully Malay, are you?”

Ugh. Not fully Malay? Oh yes, my right arm and my left big toe isn’t Malay. I got it off some white guy called Ian whom I chopped up because he was getting on my nerves. “I am.”

“Really? That’s funny.....” ‘Ian’ said.

Yes, so funny that I apparently laugh on the inside everyday over the fact. There’s a drum roll and a ba-da-bing sound everytime I look at my I/C and fill up the “race” section of inane forms. Do you hear it? Do you hear it? What if I slap you across your ear, real hard? Would you hear it then?

And then Ian said, “You don’t look Malay Malay. You don’t seem Malay Malay.”

Oh, if I had a dollar for everytime someone said this to me..........I would shoot them in the face and use the money to bribe my way out of a murder charge. Or maybe I should just quit my job and make a living out of making people bet over my racial heritage. I feel like a carnival game sometimes – you know how they have the Guess the Weight of the Cake and Win a Prize or Guess How Many Sweets in a Jar and Win a Prize? Yes, I feel like one of those. Woo hoo! Ever since I was little, whether I’m at home in Malaysia or abroad, the “hey,what are you?” question follows me around like toilet paper stuck at the bottom of my shoe. Actually, it’s even worse at home because an answer of “I’m Malay” is usually followed by “I don’t believe you,” or “Are you sure?” or “But you’re not Malay Malay.”

I remembered when I was really little, before I even went to school, my brother said that I was adopted from an Indian family because I was apparently, “dark-skinned”. But that’s only because the rest of my family are of a rather vampiric shade. The colour of white ceiling plaster. Albinos. Pigmentally-challenged. Clorox-bleached. Sorry, but you lot really do need a touch of Mystic Tan. Anyway, the fool said I was Indian as if it was supposed to be insulting. But really, I’m just insulted that you would actually think I would be insulted. What’s so wrong about being Indian, if you are Indian? But I’m not adopted. And not all Indians are dark skinned. Anyway, dark, light, who cares? I still got the better looking genes! Ok, no. The better looking bit as compared to my sisters is highly debatable. But you get what I’m trying to say.

And then I went to school. And I remembered my first day in school, I got in line to go for Pendidikan Islam class and the other Malay kids screamed for me to get out of the line, “Cikgu! Dia Cina!” Uhm, I could be Chinese and Muslim, you know. There are tons of Chinese Muslims. But I’m not. I’m Malay. “Mata dia sepet, kulit dia putih.” Oh, so now, I’m fair skinned. I never knew. I had a music teacher in Std. 4 who said, “You Malay, ah? Cannot be. Too fair to be Malay” and do I really have to mention the tools who say, “You cannot be Malay, you speak too good English to be Malay....” Repeat all of this. Repeat everyday and fast forward my first week of work. I introduce myself to my colleagues and they ask me why I have a Malay name. A very Malay-malay name. Ingatkan you Mat Saleh. You speaking dalam English tadi.... Oh, you don’t wear the tudung-thing so I thought you’re Chinese leh, I think better you don’t wear if not look very typical Malay, not pretty, look Chinese better........ Oh ingatkan you Serani....Oh...... you ni macam tak begitu Melayu. Oh, you tahu kuih Melayu ni nama apa? Tak sangka, ingatkan you Mat Saleh....Oh, you makan ulam dengan budu? Surprising, ingatkan you Mat Saleh... You ni kasar sangat lah, bukan macam Perempuan Melayu..... Eh, you eh, eh, eh, diam kau. Bak kata pepatah Mat Saleh............shut the fuck up.  Who are you to grade me on my Malay-ness from the way I look, talk, walk, from what I watch, read, listen to, eat? Is there a Chartered Malay exam I forgot to sit for?

   

What do I have to do to qualify as this kata-ganda Malay-Malay person? I didn’t know there was such a category as Malay-Malay. (Ya, berganda kali kemelayuannya! Bukan kemaluan tetapi kemelayuan!). I’m suddenly reminded of Esquire’s ridiculous recent article on Jay Z, where the writer referred to Jay-Z as “black-black” Here’s an excerpt:

“Jay-Z is black black. He is old-school double-dark-chocolate-chunk black. He is black the way Labatt is blue. He is not white black, Barack black, like our president. Or the kind of black that doesn’t curse and deplores the n-word, the genteel black, like Oprah.”

Ok. So Jay-Z is a hip hop super mogul who used to deal dope on the streets and according to the writer, once shot his brother for stealing his ring. I see. So according to the writer, this makes him black-black. So that’s how you people, play it these days, eh? I see. I can just imagine kids in the future. Pretty soon, they won't just have to identify what race they are - Malay/Chinese/Indian/Dan lain lain bangsa - on all sorts of shitty irrelevant forms, they will have to go on to define and prove how Malay-Malay/Chinese-Chinese/Indian-Indian/Dan lain-lain bangsa-dan lain-lain bangsa they are. Well, I better get to work on this machine then:

Talk Box: Malaysia, Interrupted

You know, I really thought I wasn’t going to comment anymore on the non-Muslim use of the word “Allah” controversy and the whole Molotov-cocktail throwing fiasco which ensued. I really was going to blog about something else today. But then, I came across this really interesting article in today’s edition of The Sun (the Malaysian one, not the trashy British one) and it got me thinking again.

Zakiah Koya interviewed Professor Tariq Ramadan, a European Muslim academic who advocates reform in Islam and promotes interfaith dialogue, named by Time Magazine as one of the 100 Most Important Innovators of the Century. Some excerpts:

ZK: Muslims say that their religion is perfect and it is because of this many are against interfaith dialogues......

TR: We have a perfect religion but we are not perfect........ (interfaith dialogue) may make you see something which you have neglected to see. For example, when I was in South America, the priests there were talking of love. So, I learnt to also talk of the spiritual dimension of love in Islam and its importance in life.

I always suspected that the religion had something more to offer other than eternal damnation and suffering. Tariq Ramadan further adds, “Malaysia cannot have social cohesion if you do not have dialogue.” Of course, in Malaysia, in place of dialogue, we have balas pantun –  where 2 out of 4 sentences we say doesn’t actually mean anything – just some bullshit that’s been thrown it for rhyming purposes. Ayat pembayang galore!

ZK: Since Muslims say that their religion is perfect, why are you talking about the need to reform Islam?

TR: ... Islam does not need to be reformed and Islam has in itself tools for Muslims to have a true understanding of it. What we need to reform is the Muslim minds. .... It is our static rationality that is betraying the text (the Quran & the Hadith). Active rationality is what makes the text universal.

ZK: Malaysia is country with a lot of diversity.... How does Islam view these diversities?

TR: The Quran says that if God wants it. He could have made you one community. He said: We made you tribes and nations so that you may know one another. It is God’s will. It is therefore, not enough to tolerate others – we must respect them.

.......At the same time, Muslims must stop the belief in this illusion that we have one and the same thought in Islam. There is diversity among Muslims too. It is a reality.

ZK: Most Muslim societies are guided by their ulama and religious scholars. In time, they have become revered people. Whatever they say is accepted without question. Thus many Muslims grow up with a fear of asking questions...

TR: ------- there is no deep faith without a critical mind.....The scholars must listen to the community and know what is happening. By definition, a scholar is serving the community – not to be served by the community – his power or authority is coming from the community he is serving. What we have now is the other way round.

(And I think the same can be said, not only for certain ulama and religious scholars, but also for most of our politicians). The professor goes on to say, “We have to revive the questioning mind. During the time of the Prophet, when he gave an opinion or a ruling, his companions questioned him, “Is this coming from God or is this coming from you?” When he said, “This is my opinion,” they said then we challenge you. They were his authority to find out how he came up with his opinion.”

• ZK: You must have heard that there is a request by a Catholic publication,  the Herald,    to use the word “Allah” when referring to God in its articles in Bahasa Malaysia. The government has objected to this. What is your view?
• TR: In the Arab world, Allah is used by all Christians – Coptics and others. The point is the substance and the substance is one God. When the Christian Arabs speak Arabic in their Bible, they use “Allah” to speak about God. This has been the case for centuries. The Roman Catholics among them do not use “Allah” to describe Jesus. There is no problem there. And my understanding of their general hypothesis is that the Trinity is Three in One but they are not confusing the three dimensions of One God. If that is not a problem for them, neither is it for us.

Well, that should solve the problem. But the moral panic that has swept a segment of Malay Muslims doesn’t seem to have so much to do with “Allah” being used to describe Jesus Christ (which it isn’t) or something other than the One God, but over the fact that the Christian missionaries are out to confuse and convert us all, because you know, we apparently have so little ability to think about our own beliefs.

To add to all this, I’ve been receiving shitloads, and I mean SHITLOADS of inflammatory e-mails about this matter at work (further affirming the fact that I work for a company of idiots. I’m sorry I have to use the word ‘idiot’ but I can’t be bothered to sugar coat it)! WORK! A General Manager in my company actually forwarded me an e-mail yesterday with the subject: Beware Malays!

The e-mail relates to the story of a man who was born into a Malay Muslim family in Kedah. He went to Johor Bahru looking for work – and failed. He was penniless, homeless, sleeping out on the streets at a train station. He was taken in by a Christian priest and taken care of, and after quite some time, he became a Christian himself. Now, this e-mail is full of accusations that the man was fed with “holy water” which apparently, works like some magic voodoo potion and this, and this alone, led to his conversion. (dude, really? DRINK the holy water?) Right then. Sooo, I have an atheist friend who accidentally drank a whole bottle of air zam zam which my mom had brought back from Mecca. And guess what? He’s still an atheist! That friend has also been dragged to church before by an ex-girlfriend where he ate communion wafers and sang hymns. And guess what? He’s still an atheist! He has also gone to Sikh temples and ate the sweets they served (no, I don’t know what it is with this guy and eating food from holy places) And guess what?! Yup, that’s right – he’s still an atheist! The person who wrote the “Beware Malays” e-mail, along with the people who thought forwarding it was a good idea must have forgotten about the very thing that makes us human: free will.  God said so himself. He gave us free will.

People, you enjoy the benefits of living in a “democratic” country, don’t you? And that should include freedom of religion. And what does freedom of religion mean? It’s the freedom to practice your religion, be it the one you were born and raised with or the one you choose to hold on to. Or, you can choose not to practice your “religion” at all; like my zam-zam-water-drinking, Communion-wafer-eating Atheist friend who despite not believing in a “Higher Power” is more or less a good friend, a good son, a good citizen and as a human being, he doesn’t seem to be any better or worse than you and I.  As much as some of us might personally worry, about others who do not choose to take the same “path to salvation” we do, worry of how they will burn in Satan’s pits with the rest of the “disbelievers”; that is our own problem and another’s choice. I’m sorry, but that’s what you have to put up with if you like the idea of a free country, free will, and God’s will for us to have free will.

 I must add here, that it is heartening to see that the silent (and sane) majority of Malaysians have finally decided to come together and speak out against the attacks. We are good people. The majority of Malaysians are still more or less good people.The other day, flowers were freely distributed to anyone at Bintang Walk to tell people, in the words of the organisers, “that everything’s gonna be alright” (and here I initially thought they were funeral wreaths given out as an RIP to Najib’s 1Malaysia). Several Muslim NGOs have volunteered to patrol and protect churches and other places of worship from being attacked. Church officials have called for voluntarily dropping the use of the word “Allah” in Christian publications in Malaysia, seeing the anger it has caused in certain segments of the Muslim community. Still, while these gestures and actions are indeed wonderful and much needed, I can’t help but feel that it’s all a bit like spraying perfume on dirty laundry. (and I know ALL about spraying perfume on dirty laundry!). Spray as much you like, there will come a time when you really do have to wash them.

 I do think it’s about time that we not only re-examine our view of Islam but particularly for this country, the way we view Islam and the Malay identity. And to begin, we can go straight to the definition of “Malay” in our Constitution. No wonder we assume ourselves to be easily “confused” people. The Constitutional definition for “Malay” itself confuses ethnicity with religion.

*And please, before you so casually accuse me of blasphemy and being a disbeliever, and start to lightly throw around heavy phrases like murtad, kafir, ahli neraka, liberal wanker....oh what the hell; it’s a free country – those words are your problem, not mine.

** Also, as a side note, I don’t understand why international news networks decided to interview Anwar Ibrahim on the Herald controversy and the Molotov cocktail church attacks. I’m sorry, but the guy has no real insight, nor any real solutions to offer – neither do I, but then I’m an unknown office drone with a blog that no one reads – he’s the de-facto leader of the Opposition and is on an international news network and therefore, has higher expectations to meet. Anwar is one opportunistic fucker. Does anyone remember that he used to present himself as an ultra-Malay Nationalist and when that didn’t quite work out; he’s Mr. Equality Ladida? Like I said, fucker – he’ll fuck about with any stand as long as it gets him your vote.

Alright, enough ranting for now.  To end:

ZK: Would you describe yourself as a moderate Muslim?

TR: I am not using this vocabulary. This qualification is coming from the colonisers who always had a binary view of the colonised – the good and the bad, the moderate and the fundamentalist. All the people who resisted colonisation were bad and fundamentalists; and all those with them were good and moderate. I think it’s silly.

Me too. 

Talk Box: Who can use the name of God?

I love my country.

Political aide falling out of a building after being interrogated by the Malaysian Anti Corruption Commission and now, now, don’t jump to conclusions, they tell us, it might not be murder, really.

I love my country.

Two missing F5-E fighter jet engines stolen from the Royal Malaysian Air Force Base and ending up in Argentina and no, no, they tell us, no senior officials were involved in the conspiracy, really. The two lowly grunts sentenced for it must be infinitely more awesome than David Copperfield circa when he was still dating Claudia Schiffer to be able to smuggle FIGHTER JET ENGINES out of the country without any sort of help from “senior officials”. And without being discovered until 2 years later. Well, recently, at my office, a whole bunch of spoons disappeared from our pantry – just like that, *poof* and my boss has absolutely no idea where it went. But we’re not talking about spoons are we? We’re talking about FIGHTER JET ENGINES.
 
It’s nice to see that after everything that has happened in this country, after the rude shock of the last elections, after over 50 years of Independence, after human evolution, after the internet, after Vision 2020, Islam Hadhari and now 1Malaysia; the government and the mainstream media still takes the general Malaysian public for fools.


I love my country.

But today, some of us have proven once more, to be very much the fools we are taken for.

I think my country is sick. This is not the country I grew up in. The country I grew up in was pretty stupid, but it was not sick. Stupid people are funny. They might even be loveable. Sick people might still be funny but my momma once told me that that it’s wrong to laugh at them. So I don’t. I cannot laugh at my country anymore. And you’re afraid to love it just as one is afraid to love a terribly sick person because they tend to die on you and grief is such a hassle to deal with. Yes, my country is sick and pale and in need of a bone marrow transplant. The chemo’s not working but the hair keeps falling out. The doctor’s report came out today and it seems that the cancer has metastasized.

Last year, we had severed cow heads being held up in protest of a Hindu temple. Today, we have arson attacks on three churches in the Klang Valley (Klang Valley!!!) in wake of the “Allah controversy”.

You want to know what my take is on the use of the word “Allah” by non-Muslims in Malaysia? Of course, you don’t. You don’t really care, do you? But I’ll tell you anyway. The only people I think, who should be prohibited from using the name of God are thugs and despicable waste-of-Life who try to justify their acts of violence and provocation. Whether you’re a local arsonist or a suicide bomber on the other side of the world, Christian, Muslim, Hindu, Jewish, Buddhist, Zoroastrian, etc....... But Malaysians, really, what the hell? Is the Muslim community so oppressed here that you have to resort to such measures? It’s not freakin Palestine over here, is it? What exactly are you defending? What are you fighting for?


And suddenly, as a Malay Muslim person, I found myself being invited to join the Facebook group protesting the use of “Allah” by non-Muslims. In here they claim that it is a deliberate move by the Church or something to confuse and lead the Muslims astray. Can’t you see, the Facebook Group shouts, they’re all out to get us! They’re all out to destroy us! Oh please, give the community some credit. Not all of us are as dumb and easily confused as you are and if we are, then maybe why aren’t we doing more to educate ourselves and eachother? Instead, we have in-fighting between our muftis and what nots, getting eachother arrested and charged in court out of probably, though I can’t say definitively, professional jealousy. Forget about external threats. I think we’re doing a pretty fucking good job of destroying the community on our own. Way to go team!

Also, if there’s anyone out there who’s really out to confuse us; it’s not the Church as it is our politicians – whether they’re in the ruling government party, opposition, opposition who used to be in ruling party, politicians from the ruling government party who went to the opposition – they’re all the same. They might officially be of different race, religion, colour, creed and ideologies but they’re all united by the fact that they ultimately, truly, worship the same thing: themselves. Uh-oh, threat to my power – hey look, I’ll pull out this race/religion card out from under my sleeve. Ta-da! This will cause a violent distraction across the room so no one will notice that I’m just fucking about getting Botox injections at my desk and siphoning the people’s money into my pocket. Missing jet engines? Murdered political aide? No – look there – someone is trying to lead the Malay and Muslim people astray! And we have exposed a fundamental weakness in Pakatan Rakyat – DAP and PAS will never be able to work together, really, just look at how they’re butting heads over this issue, on top of the beer in Shah Alam shit. Keep us in power, people! And the opposition says – no, look there, the government should take responsibility for this church arson incident because they’re the ones who brought the matter up. So vote for us people! Yeah, eat that Barisan, backfired on ya didn’t it? Ha-Ha-Ha, nyehnyehnyeh. No, we don’t actually know what we’ll do if we do win the next elections – there will be no BN federal government to blame for blocking our grand plans anymore but heck, did you hear what UMNO did? Over there! Ah, what would we do without violent incidents? Hey remember a long, long time ago when the whole Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky sex scandal blew and the next day he orders an airstrike over Iraq? Like that. That's how Michael Bay makes up for movies with bad actors and bad scripts too -just throw in like, a really big explosion in between shots of Megan Fox's ass. yeah, like that. Fuck, I'm rich.


I do not vote.

I cannot bring myself to vote. And it saddens me so.

I still love my country.

On a related note, neutral ol’ Switzerland banning the construction of mosque minarets, Islamophobia on the rise everywhere and the global Muslim community whines, whines and whines about how the world is out to get us. Sure, maybe the Swiss are secretly prejudiced assholes, maybe the US Foreign Policy is biased (it’s the US – how do you think they became the most powerful nation in the world without looking out for their own interests, doh!), maybe Israel is bloody guilty of war crimes but hey, there comes a time when we need to stop this self-pity party. You want Jihad? Go home to your family. Take care of your kids! Get educated. Get rich. Control the world financial system. Take over Hollywood. Movies can solicit more sympathy for your cause then a 100 Molotov cocktails/ suicide bombs ever will. Seriously.

I hate politicians, terrorists, fanatics, bigots and thugs speaking on behalf of all of us. I hate that they claim to be speaking on behalf of ME. I am not a part of your community. I am not “your people”, “umat”, “sister” or whatever stupid ass familial term that you like to use. I disown you.

Not in my name.
I love my country.

And if I’m upset about it, me, mere mortal, whose name is not directly being used, can’t begin to imagine how God/Allah/Tuhan/YHWH, feels about the whole matter.


*Yeah, although I doubt this will happen as no one ever comments on my blog anyway, I think I should say anyway, just in case - don't leave your damn political opinions here unless you agree with me. This isn't some free speech democratic forum. For reasons that I will explain in future entries, if I'm bothered to do so at all, I no longer believe in Democracy. I believe in ONE RING TO RULE THEM ALL. Preferably worn by ME. Yeah, that's right. Just like Sauron from Lord of the Rings. Yessssssssssss (would rub hands together in evil glee but since I'm only a fiery eye in a tower - I  have no hands. Bummer).