Monday, October 8
Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive. Massive.
Questioning our Malaysian Identity - by Adelyn Yeoh
AUG 14 — Back in secondary school, August was the time we spent decorating our classrooms to depict the spirit of “Merdeka”. It was the time where we were told to reflect on our “identity as a Malaysian” and to “appreciate how far we have come since we have gained independence.” Besides trying to outdo the other classes’ decorations, it came to my attention, even at such a tender age, that what we had been told our identity should be was a strange idea indeed.
I am not sure if it is fair to say that we were brainwashed in school to think that our pride as a Malaysian should be derived from:
a) being free from colonial powers
b) our economic development displayed by skyscrapers such as the Petronas Twin Towers
c) our success in keeping peace and harmony as a diverse nation;
but it certainly felt like the case.
If you think about it, these concepts mean very little. Quite simply, it is difficult to expect a generation that has never experienced subjugation to understand the meaning of being free or to find meaning in cold steel or to truly believe in our diversity when being diverse only seems to work against us.
So, what does it really mean to be a Malaysian?
At this point of time, the most obvious answers are hardly flattering: how we operate on Malaysian time, our undying love for food and our constant snide remarks of the #onlyinMalaysia kind.
If these are our strongest reminders of what it means to be a Malaysian then I think we have a problem.
Considering how some of these qualities are not even merits in the first place, it is difficult for people to muster any sort of pride as a nation. The merits, I should add, must extend far beyond a simple momentary unity against our beloved arch-rival Singapore.
As such, we really ought to look much further.
What, then, should we look to develop?
Some cultures look towards history as a source of their respective identities but unfortunately for Malaysia, a country still in its infancy, we do not have an established history all of her inhabitants can rightfully claim as their own.
If we look at other cultures, the national identity stems from ideals and principles. The Americans pride themselves on being free, the Scandinavians pride themselves on being the frontrunners of social progress and the Japanese pride themselves on an impeccable work ethic.
Ideals and principles surface in a nation in interesting forms — ones that are quite often overlooked by the general public. Academics, artists and creators of sorts are the people who usually shape the ideas of a country. These ideas usually get translated into books, articles, plays, music and other forms of entertainment that pervade through the daily lives of people.
A good look at any history book would illustrate the role of the academics, artists and creators. Many great civilisations too had great thinkers and a wide appreciation of the arts — all of which are key indicators of a successful nation. Ancient Egypt, the Chinese dynasties and, even, the Ottoman Empire all had these same characteristics.
These are the tools that mould a nation’s identity — overlooked and forgotten, often due to pragmatism or the lack of support for such industries or to the silencing of voices by the repressive instruments of our law. This kills of any chance of fostering frontrunners in the academics or in the arts for the country. And we have seen many of these people leave our country due to the lack of opportunity to express their ideas.
This is largely due to how we have opted, instead, to find identity in cold monuments and cheesy slogans.
And in a time where it is most crucial for our country to come together and rethink what we really want for the future, we find that there is real lack of identity among our people. As it is, we are too divided. We have found our collective identity in divisive things such as ethnicity and/or political parties.
It really should not be the case.
Having a national identity would mean that people are willing to do things in the interest of the nation in its entirety, and not for the sake of pledging allegiance to political parties. It would mean that people feel proud of what the nation has been through and therefore feel a sense of belonging to the country. It would ultimately mean that the country (not just parts of it) is worth fighting for.
Something we all, as Malaysians, need to think about. I love being Malaysian - most of the time. More unity would help.
I am not sure if it is fair to say that we were brainwashed in school to think that our pride as a Malaysian should be derived from:
a) being free from colonial powers
b) our economic development displayed by skyscrapers such as the Petronas Twin Towers
c) our success in keeping peace and harmony as a diverse nation;
but it certainly felt like the case.
If you think about it, these concepts mean very little. Quite simply, it is difficult to expect a generation that has never experienced subjugation to understand the meaning of being free or to find meaning in cold steel or to truly believe in our diversity when being diverse only seems to work against us.
So, what does it really mean to be a Malaysian?
At this point of time, the most obvious answers are hardly flattering: how we operate on Malaysian time, our undying love for food and our constant snide remarks of the #onlyinMalaysia kind.
If these are our strongest reminders of what it means to be a Malaysian then I think we have a problem.
Considering how some of these qualities are not even merits in the first place, it is difficult for people to muster any sort of pride as a nation. The merits, I should add, must extend far beyond a simple momentary unity against our beloved arch-rival Singapore.
As such, we really ought to look much further.
What, then, should we look to develop?
Some cultures look towards history as a source of their respective identities but unfortunately for Malaysia, a country still in its infancy, we do not have an established history all of her inhabitants can rightfully claim as their own.
If we look at other cultures, the national identity stems from ideals and principles. The Americans pride themselves on being free, the Scandinavians pride themselves on being the frontrunners of social progress and the Japanese pride themselves on an impeccable work ethic.
Ideals and principles surface in a nation in interesting forms — ones that are quite often overlooked by the general public. Academics, artists and creators of sorts are the people who usually shape the ideas of a country. These ideas usually get translated into books, articles, plays, music and other forms of entertainment that pervade through the daily lives of people.
A good look at any history book would illustrate the role of the academics, artists and creators. Many great civilisations too had great thinkers and a wide appreciation of the arts — all of which are key indicators of a successful nation. Ancient Egypt, the Chinese dynasties and, even, the Ottoman Empire all had these same characteristics.
These are the tools that mould a nation’s identity — overlooked and forgotten, often due to pragmatism or the lack of support for such industries or to the silencing of voices by the repressive instruments of our law. This kills of any chance of fostering frontrunners in the academics or in the arts for the country. And we have seen many of these people leave our country due to the lack of opportunity to express their ideas.
This is largely due to how we have opted, instead, to find identity in cold monuments and cheesy slogans.
And in a time where it is most crucial for our country to come together and rethink what we really want for the future, we find that there is real lack of identity among our people. As it is, we are too divided. We have found our collective identity in divisive things such as ethnicity and/or political parties.
It really should not be the case.
Having a national identity would mean that people are willing to do things in the interest of the nation in its entirety, and not for the sake of pledging allegiance to political parties. It would mean that people feel proud of what the nation has been through and therefore feel a sense of belonging to the country. It would ultimately mean that the country (not just parts of it) is worth fighting for.
Something we all, as Malaysians, need to think about. I love being Malaysian - most of the time. More unity would help.
Sunday, October 7
S & F
Today I woke up and for some reason went on Quizlet on my iPod in bed and started learning Spanish & French - ten of the same words in both languages. All foods. HAHAHHAHAHA. So far, I know:
- spanish : english : french
- el pan : bread : pain
- le leche : milk : lait
- las uvas : grapes : raisins
- las fresas : strawberries : fraises
- la lima : lime : citron
- los huevos : eggs : oeufs
- el plátano : banana : banane
- la mantequilla : butter : beurre
- las cebollas : onions : oignons
- los ejotes : green beans : haricots verts
HEE.
Baby of Juillet
Fun to be with. Secretive. Difficult to fathom and to be understood. Quiet unless excited or tensed. Takes pride in oneself. Has reputation. Easily consoled. Honest. Concerned about people’s feelings. Tactful. Friendly. Approachable. Emotional temperamental and unpredictable. Moody and easily hurt. Witty and sparkly. spazzy at times. Not revengeful. Forgiving but never forgets. dislikes nonsensical and unnecessary things. Guides others physically and mentally. Sensitive and forms impressions carefully. Caring and loving. Treats others equally. Strong sense of sympathy. Wary and sharp. Judges people through observations. Hardworking. No difficulties in studying. Loves to be alone. Always broods about the past and the old friends. Waits for friends. Never looks for friends. Not aggressive unless provoked. Loves to be loved. Easily hurt but takes long to recover.
hm.
hm.
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