Salamat datang Ke Malaysia…. Mate.

It has been a few days since my last post. I’ve been quite busy helping my parents and doing some study for my upcoming exams (I’m still stressing as I write this). A little intro before I begin from where I left off….

I’m still quite a time waster, and haven’t drastically improved my time management skills. I have improved in some ways though. I try to start a lot of things earlier than I used to. I guess it was always a lack of motivation that I had. I had no real dreams or ambitions before entering university. I could never picture myself doing something specific in 20 years. Some people grow up from the age of 3, thinking they want to be a Fireman. Of course, 97% of those children don’t become fire men, but then there’s the 3% that do. I used to envy those people (and sometimes I still do). The fact they put their mind to something, dedicated their whole life to it and achieved it. I look back on my life and see very few things I was ever passionate about. I think it’s because I was so used to having the carpet pulled out from under me so often taught me to not get hopeful about things. I still sometimes don’t get as excited as I would like when I hear good news or get a good grade. I just learned to take everything in my stride, just incase the happiness was short lived to make the pain afterwards easier. One of the things I’ve been most passionate about is Vanessa. She is probably the only person I have put this much heart and soul on the line for and seen great things come from it. Before I met her I had no ambition... no drive to better myself or to study hard or to dress nicely or talk more or anything. I am so grateful to have known and been with Vanessa this long. I love you baby, please never forget how much I care for and treasure you. I am always being put to the test to show how much I do care. By you, your family, your friends, my friends, my family: and especially myself. I am constantly berating myself about things that I’ve done badly or failed to do properly. “If you love her as much as you think you do- you’d do your best.” I do always do my best, and sometimes its not good enough. So that’s why I try harder. Love is a test of; trust and effort. The two interrelate on some levels, yet are completely different on some others. Trust ensures that neither partner would deceive or hide malicious thoughts from the other. Effort ensures that the relationship is long lasting, and that any differences can be resolved in a proper way. The two interrelate because it takes a lot of effort to trust a person wholeheartedly especially when love is put on trial so many times in such a short period (as you have seen with our relationship). I am never willing to give up on us. Vanessa, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I just wanted you to know that before I begin the tale again.
So, without further adieu….

Initially, my trip to Malaysia was only to achieve one purpose: Be with Vanessa as long as possible to make sure we had enough time to establish a better foundation for our relationship. Although we were already together for just over two months, it isn’t enough time to really see a person for who they really are.

Because, in most cases, you can never really know a person.

There will almost always be a part of a friend or a partner that you never see. It could be a habit, and emotion, feelings towards someone/something. It could be general behavior or actions that you never thought they might be capable of doing. Especially since Vanessa’s previous relationship was constantly built on lies upon lies upon lies. I didn’t want Vanessa to begin thinking I was the same way. I wanted to show her, to prove to her, that the person she was with was genuine. That everything I did or said to her was true, and not an act of deception to fool her into thinking something. I wanted her to see that I had nothing to hide, that I didn’t want to keep anything from her. Two months isn’t enough time to see the ‘full story’. Especially when not living together or seeing each other every day. So, I went to Malaysia for an entire month to show her that I was acting from my heart, and not manipulating anyone. The second reason for me going was to see what Malaysia was like. Vanessa always said, and still says today, that she could no live in Melbourne for the rest of her life. Always constantly reminded of this, I played it through my head over and over thinking “Then if she can’t live here… I have to see if I can live there.” But what was Malaysia like? Vanessa had told me brief snippets of information and I have had dealings with Malaysian friends before. All I had was a bunch of random, unrelated stories (although, 80% are about the food >_<) that each of them had told and had swelled up into some really strange mental image of what it would be like. Of course, the weather and smog played a big role in determining what it would be like. The fact that a lot of ‘slave labor’ was employed in the country meant a lot of poverty/border line poverty stricken people would be walking around. I had no freaking idea what a “hawkers centre” was, so I had pictured something entirely different.

I really had no idea what I was doing, but then again – as with love – all we can do is follow our heart and hope for the best.

The fact that I might have to learn to get used to Malaysia really only hit me immediately after stepping off the air conditioned plane. The air, was hot. Really hot. The heat was very sticky and wet and the temperature was up in the 30’s. I had just come from a place where we were close to being frozen in time from Melbourne’s weather, and I step off the plane and feel like melting. I will admit, I was filled with a sudden sense of panic. No novice to the weather patterns of the world, I knew that this was what the weather was like all year round. It came to me like “Wow, so it’s always like this.” I knew then that it would take some getting used to. I realized that if I were to move here in the future, id have to get used to a lot of things. I would have to change a lot of my habits, my day activities, my job perspectives, my diet, the clothes I would wear – a lot of things would need to change in order for me to adapt to live here. I would need to sacrifice a lot in order to stay here. As we were walking through the airport another thing was apparent. I was being watched. Now, I don’t mean a few people were giving me curious glances. I’m talking about people walking by, stopping what they’re doing and just watching me walk past. They were all pretty much thinking something along the lines of “WOW! A WHITE KID!”. It was especially obvious after we got through customs and went out into the main meeting area near the front door. As I walked through the crowd, I was asked if I wanted accommodation about 6 times in less than a minute. Hadn’t these people seen white people before? Were white people so rare here? It was strange having all the attention on me for a change; in Melbourne I’m just like any other ordinary white guy. Here it seemed as if I was something of particular interest and a rarity. Would the strange looks and constant attention go away? Maybe in a small community or a workplace the stares would change and I would be accepted normally. But until then, how would I learn to adapt and fit in?

All the while during my trip to Malaysia I was constantly asking myself:

Will I ever be able to fit in?

It is a question, I fear, I still do not know the answer to.

Fortunately, Vanessa’s parents seemed to welcome me. In all honesty, I was expecting them to look different. Maybe a bit taller (please don’t tell your dad that -.-;;) and her mum… well, looked nothing like Vanessa so I was a bit put off there also.

Her dad’s first words to me where “Welcome to Malaysia.”

Funny, since it seemed that Malaysia didn’t welcome me.

That night we went to eat at a hawkers center. It was TOTALLY NOT WHAT I WAS EXPECTING. I had the typical white-boy clean-food mindset “Oh, its some food court thing indoors. With food things all around, yeah.” What was it actually? A bunch of food carts with; nowhere to wash your hands, No where to wash the utensils, No where to stop bugs or animals from coming near your food, No food/health rating. Despite this, I wasn’t afraid to eat there at all. Normally a white guy would be like “Oh hell no. I am not eating that.” Even most local Asian people I know wouldn’t eat it. I couldn’t wait to try it all. Vanessa had hyped up the food quality in Malaysia, so I was expecting something pretty tasty. I wasn’t disappointed. The food tasted awesome. The noodles have so many different flavours and have hints of lots of different tastes that its almost impossible to pinpoint them all. Obviously because of all the MSG they add, but I’m not asthmatic so I wasn’t afraid of a little bit of MSG. All the different noodles, the breads, the soups, the porridge, the rice, the satay, the sushi; all of it was delicious. “I gained 4 kg in 4 weeks – join my eating plan now~~!! The all new Anti-Anorexic diet!” The food was easy to get used to, probably because I wasn’t afraid of eating anything, unless it really pushed me to my limits. Like when we had seafood with flies buzzing around the food all day, and the pig intestines in the BaKu Teh (I could only eat one piece of it… damn the documentary I saw on parasites from food -_-). And to the surprise of Vanessa and her family (to me as well!) I didn’t even get food poisoning once. I took it as a sign that there were ways to making this work. The fact that I could tolerate the food and was beginning to tolerate the weather meant that there was a chance for me to survive here.

Vanessa’s parents were very welcoming during my first few days in Malaysia. They had never met me before, never heard stories about me, never even seen more than a few pictures of me. Yet they had prepared a bathroom and bedroom for me with toiletries and towels and told me about how I should go about putting clothes in the washing basket, and showed me around the house. I was very touched by the way they accommodated for me so nicely. The fact that they went through the trouble of buying me toiletries to use was very nice of them, and I really appreciate their willingness to put aside the general perception Malaysian people have of white people (they’ve had experiences with some really arrogant white people) and give me a chance. I especially have to thank Vanessa’s dad again for taking some time off work to show me around Malaysia and take us out to eat all the time. Not to mention letting me tag along to his work sites and see what the construction industry in Malaysia was like. That too, was something I would need to get used to. The health and safety regulations don’t really exist in Malaysia, and the scaffolding and construction materials/machines they used there were sub par. A construction specialist would get away with a lot over there if they knew how to play their cards right. I didn’t know what kind of impression I was giving them during the first few weeks. I was quite tired and lazy a lot of the time, exhausted by the sheer heat and constant humidity. It’s very hard to want to go outside and do things when its 30º everyday. It was pretty draining at first, and drained a lot of fluids. In Melbourne, I barely get thirsty and never need to use the bathroom. Now I know why Vanessa always drinks water and needs to use a bathroom every twenty minutes :P.

But I eventually got used to it. I no longer took cold showers, I put the conditioner and the fan in my room on a lower setting- anything to try and ease into the weather better. Anything to adapt. That’s all people can really do in such situations. They have to reanalyze their options and their surrounds and adapt to them. I think through my high tolerance and resistance, I managed to change my perceptions on the food and the weather. During the first week and a half, Vanessa’s parents took me around to see a few amazing sights: like Batu Caves. The scenery is magnificent there, like a rainforest hidden away in a cave at the top of hundreds of stairs (I made Vanessa climb them with me, which she hated me for- but I gave a massage as thanks for being strong and doing it with me! :P). If I went on my Malaysia trip alone, I wouldn’t have been as great as it was. I wouldn’t have the images and memories that I carry around with me now. I wouldn’t be able to picture Vanessa, sitting opposite me, eating Mee Goreng (with the crunchy bits!) with me. I wouldn’t be able to imagine the upset and pouting look she gave me once we got to the top of the staircase at Batu Caves.

You were the reason why I went to Malaysia. You were the only thing I wanted to see.

I paid a lot of money for my air fare, but spending time with you made it worth every cent.

I have more fun with you than I do anything else. I thank you again baby for trying to ease me into your family and get to know your parents better. I thank you for giving me a chance to meet your parents and to stay with you and see what Malaysia is like. I thank you for putting up with my bad pronunciations of places/food/names… pretty much anything that wasn’t English. I thank you for putting up with my annoying reference to “Keluar” every time we were leaving a shopping center. I thank you for giving me one of the best birthdays I ever had, even after we had the slight accident outside of the day spa. It meant so much to me, the fact that you went through all the trouble of organizing the dinner, the cake and the day spa; that I wrote an individual piece about it :). Adapting isn’t easy; you yourself could never fully adapt to Melbourne.

Thank you for those memories beautiful, I will never forget the new experiences I had during those first days in Malaysia, that you were willing to share with me. All the memories; the good and the bad.

Like my love for you, I will treasure them forever.