Who has never dreamed of studying abroad? Ever since young, I have been inspired by the intriguing stories of family members who studied overseas. They told about the colourful cultures, pulchritudinous places and exceptional experiences. It seemed to me a privilege and honour to trade my seemingly mundane Malaysian schooling life for a more enriching education out of my home country.
When I finally received my scholarship offer to Singapore last year, I was elated beyond words. Never had I thought that this bold dream of mine would ever come true, but it did. I readied myself for the new life, mentally preparing myself for what was about to come. Admittedly, I did feel a twinge of sadness for leaving my home, family and friends, but the journey I was to embark on was like a magnet that lured me to it without hesitation.
On the first night of my four-year scholarship, my new found friends –feeling homesick- huddled close together and wept, while I stood by consoling them. To me, there was nothing to be distressed about. I was excited, joyous even, to have had the opportunity to experience a life I dare say few would ever. I believed that this fresh new start would surpass my old way of life, that it would even make me forget about the woes of being far away from home. How wrong I was!
A week into hostel life made me crave for the luxury of home, more specifically, the comfort of having a shared identity amongst others around me. Many a times, friends of different nationalities stared blankly at me when I spiced up sentences with “lah”, “meh” and “leh”. One day, when a friend from China smiled politely at me when I jokingly said, “Bojio!”, I realised with a start that Manglish was indeed meant strictly for Malaysians only. Where else could you use three different languages in a sentence and still be perfectly understood?
As the weeks turned into months, I found out that as similar as our cultures may seem, Malaysian food is still wholly different from the Singapore version. Until I stayed abroad, never had I seen ‘bak kut teh’ cooked in clear broth, tasted non-sour assam laksa nor not been able to find a nasi lemak stall along a street. Born with the innate ability to hunt for good food, we Malaysians do not need fancy restaurants or Michelin star chefs to satisfy our taste buds. Instead, chatting with friends over meals at a cosy mamak stall is a classical way of indulging in our local delicacies. I learnt the hard way that even a simple plate of roti canai could bring solace and warmth and that all these years, I had taken the comforting aroma of our local cuisines for granted.
Whenever I see poker-faced people rushing to catch the train, it never fails to unearth my yearning for the friendly smiles of fellow Malaysians despite coming from various races, the warm helping hand regardless of different social status and the mutual respect that we give and receive no matter our age. In a country where all elders are dubbed ‘auntie’ or ‘uncle’, we Malaysians are constantly there for each other, by each other and with each other. From fixing a punctured tyre to cheering on our badminton legend, Dato’ Lee Chong Wei, we are always together hand in hand, no matter the diversity amongst us. This unbreakable bond, though frequently overlooked, is what allows us to proudly proclaim ourselves as Anak-anak Malaysia.
Most do not consider it, but even the regular traffic jams, loud sellers at the markets and the fact that we are constantly ‘on the way’ are all part and parcel of a Malaysian’s identity. We still jump queues, gossip amongst neighbours and ask for discounts at retail shops, but sometimes, it is not always the beautiful traits that brand us as Malaysians, but the embarrassing and noisy habits that prove we are all the same people.
Indeed, absence makes the heart grow fonder. It has been ten months since I left Malaysia. Never had I thought that I would miss singing ‘Negaraku’ while watching the Jalur Gemilang rise with dignity. The sense of belonging when I see the Malaysian flag, hear people conversing in the Malaysian accent and smell the tantalising aroma of our Malaysian cuisine reminds me of the many reasons why I stand proud as a Malaysian. As we celebrate our country’s independence day, let us not forget to embrace and appreciate the legacy our forefathers have left for us, a vibrant nation of harmony and togetherness. Where Malaysia is, that’s home for me.
Selamat Merdeka, Malaysia.
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