AIMI FAHMI – YOUNG MALAYSIAN STORIES

I NEVER really noticed how much of a melting pot Malaysia is until I stepped out of the “pot”. When I was growing up, there were (and there still are), many advertisements highlighting Malaysia as “harmonious” with a mix of culture found in no other country. I did not see the big deal in that, then.
I grew up in a small town in Johor. My best friend-cum-classmate in Year One was Tan Pey Jiun. As I played with girls my age around the taman (housing estate): the two Elaines (Lee and Sia), Nadia, Ana and Priya. We cycled together and shared food during recess. I took piano lessons with Ms Esther, art classes with Auntie Dot and tennis lessons with Uncle Khalid. I went to camp and my closest friends there came from Chinese schools. My sister took me along with her when she went on play dates with Pow Lee and Joyce, and when she attended Jayashini’s 12th birtday party.
Nyonya Ch’ng next door had lion dances perform at her home every Chinese New Year. As Mr Ch’ng owns a chicken farm, every year they sent Ah Kok by, before Raya, to give my family a least a couple of chickens for us to sembelih and cook. My mum would prepare the whole Raya spread. I would make a number of trips to send trays and tiffins full of lauk Raya to the neighbours- Auntie Catherine, Uncle Teng, Haji Kadir, Mak Raja, and of course, the Ch’ngs. And mind you, this is not even Hari Raya yet. This is also the time when our house would be full of food hampers, given by the very same neighbours.

A preacher at his church, our next-door neighbour, Uncle Teng is also an amateur karaoke singer. He belt out 1960′s Malay and Indonesian love songs like no one else we knew. My mum used to have potluck dinners with Dr and Mrs Matthew, our family friends and vet. During Deepavali, the family would head to Shantan’s house down the street and also to Uncle Palani’s accross town.
We congregated not only during happy times. When Uncle Sia, one of my mum’s closest colleagues passed away, my parents went to his church to pay their last respects. About a year later, Auntie Sia comforted me when my mum passed away. And so did Auntie Saramma, Uncle See Boon, Auntie Mimah, Auntie Hasnah and numerous others. It took more than 18 years for me to realise how different and yet how similar we Malaysians are. Going from a small town to one medium-sized city, across a couple of oceans, I noticed the fact that athough we may seem different, we are pretty much the same – we are people who love and care for one another. We are Malaysians. *Aimi, 24 left her hometown to further her studies in the United States. She now lives in Kuala Lumpur, but still goes home frequently. (Star-Thursday-12 July 2007)