National Integration: Tell Me About It!!!

Yesterday, we organised a forum for our members where one of the panelist talked on National Integration. As I sat there listening to him, I thought that his views are, to people like myself, of least importance. In fact, I thought of it as a view of a Malay man who is, behind all his words, still afraid of losing his special Bumiputra priviledges.

You want National Integration? Here's my 2-cents worth of it...

On Race
I am a true bred 100% Bidayuh. My husband is half Baba-Chinese from Malacca and half Tamilan Indian where his grandfather came from Tamil Naidu in mainland India in the 1900s. What does that makes my kids? Indian? Bidayuh? Chin-Dian? None of the above. They are, to me, Bidayuh (50%)-Indian (25%)-Chinese (25%). And if I have my way, I would wipe out that 'Race: Indian' indication on their birth certificates and put it Bidayuh-Indian-Chinese. And what gives the government the right to call my husband an Indian in his birth certificate. He is neither Indian nor Chinese but BOTH! Then he should be considered Chinese-Indian. For a man who resents some of the cultural attributes of both races, maybe he should be given the choice to put whatever he wants - MALAYSIAN, perhaps.

On Language
I speak Bidayuh Bukar-sadong, my mom's dialect and because having brought us up, that was our main means of communication. I also speak Malay - both Bahasa MAlaysia, from my formal education, and local Malay from my interaction with friends. On top of it all, I also understand some of the local Malay dialects spoken in Kedah/Perak, which is my husband's version of BM. I understand some Hokkien, as that is the main Chinese sub-race in Kuching and which are what my Chinese friends mostly are. I also know basic French from my days in college.

However, I do not understand my dad's dialect of Bidayuh Singgai. This is because my dad himself speaks my mom's dialect and no one spoke the dialect to us when we were young so we do not learn. Of course, I understand a handful of the necessary words but that is about it. Don't blame me for not learning, as some of the elders would do when they find out I do not know the dialect. It is of no fault of mine that I am clueless about the dialect. As one of the participants of last night's forum said: The responsibility falls on the parents to teach the children.

Of course I learn English from school and becuase it is the second language we spoke at him, thanks to dad.

Now with my own kids, I speak English and Bidayuh Bukar-Sadong and my eldest daughter is learning BM and Mandarin in kindergarten. Being a quarter chinese, we also use some Hokkien at home to get her familiarised with her (late) grandmother's dialect. Indian? Sorry but the responsibility of teaching her the language befalls on hubby and if he himself do not speak it, so what can I do.

So you see, national integration is more than special rights, or polarisation, or cultural policy.

To be successful, national integration starts from self. Whether one is a Malay or Chinese or Indian or Bidayuh is irrelevant in this age and time. What we need is the one-ness in feelings and thoughts of being Malaysia, or wanting to be identified as a Malaysian, of dying as a MAlaysian.

But how can we when we have this thoughts and attitude that, when it suits us, 'I am a Malay so I can/ cannot...' or the occasional 'So China-man one ...'.

An Introduction to My Office, Part 2

The Entrance to My Office
The entrance to my office
This is the entrance to my office. The whole building is apart from the main Administration building so each working day, we get to avoid seeing the CEO and/or GM for as long as we want. Of course, until we are summoned to see them or we need to do something at Admin and Finance and come across them there.

The View from Inside

The View
Occassionally, we get so fed up with staring at the monitor screen that it would be a real break to just stand at the entrance and look out to the world. The palm tree is directly in front of the door while further ahead is the 100-year old tree that has been there since...I don't know... James Brooke's time? On a hot day, the tree gives us cool refuge while on a raining day, it helps break the thunderous fall of the rain water.

The Tree

The Tree
Looking up, the tree's branches looks like this. And it alwasy sets my imagination off. There are days when I half hope to see blazing red eyes staring back at me from amongst the branches and tree trunks. Why not? It is all but a 100years and these trees definitely have a Penunggu. Or two!

My Angels from Above

My Angels
When the Christmas season ended last year, I did not want to throw this lovingly made paper cut-out angels away so I stuck them to the glass partition between my cubicle and my Asst Manager's. Each monring when I pass them, I greet them with blessings and each evening, I wish them some blessings for the night. There are on occassion, when my Asst Manager would turn and look at me as I stare at these angels; she must be thinking I am going bonkers or something....

My Camouflage Tree

My Camouflage Tree
I requested from the gardener to have a plant palced near my desk. This is because (i) I need the oxygen which the plant produce, (ii) I need some greens around my dreary, grey/blue cubicle, (iii) I need to camouflage myself from people's view as they enter the office. HAA HAA HAA

My One and Only Window

My Window
Did I mention that my office complex is a hundred year old government quarters so who knows what had happened there before way back in the Brooke era, Japanese Occupation, rocking Sixties, hippi seventies etc.

So this the window which I have. Sitting typing this, the window is directly behind me. They have put up blinds at it but I prefer having it opened as such. MAnagement also had it grilled up and locked so I cannot open the window for much needed fresh air, unless I kick it open.

In the mornings, I like the feel of the sun shining through into the room and falling on my pc/monitor and my desk. It is such a nice view.

Outside, we have neighbours - two or three bungalows with maids (we can hear them talk occassionally) and dogs (we hear the barking), and a fancy condominium complex, which I believe is half empty.

So now you know my office complex is situated in a fancy part of Kuching's residential area.