SARAWAKIANS Mohammad Faizurie Abang, Valentina Tiong, and Maryanne Telen Aba, and fellow Universiti Malaya (UM) undergraduates from Sabah – Mohd Nizamuddin Fauzi, Noryanti Tarawis and Azwa Azwana Khairul Akhmal, are fine examples of who we should aspire to be as Malaysians.
Clicking instantly despite meeting for the first time, they shared the chemistry of long-lost friends. The six, who are in their 20s, say the closeness is a result of their East Malaysian upbringing.
Inviting their counterparts from the peninsula to “visit us more often”, they say the unity among East Malaysians has always been understated, but unshakeable.
It’s a bond they want all Malaysians to share. Since coming to study here, they’ve learnt to better appreciate how Sabahans and Sarawakians respect each other’s differences.
Introducing themselves as either Sabahan, or Sarawakian, they find race-centric questions from new friends, surprising.
Speaking to each other in a colourful blend of Bahasa Melayu, peppered with a healthy dose of colloquialism and accents, they say speech is the only real difference between those hailing from the two states, and those from the peninsula.
Come, get to know us
How did you get here? Do you wear a loincloth? Do you live on trees? What race are you?
This is just part of the stereotyping the group’s had to put up with since coming here to study. Smiling, Mohammad Faizurie says they harbour no hard feelings now, but initially, found such comments insulting and hurtful. “It felt like Malaysians from the peninsula have never been to Sabah or Sarawak. But we understand there’s no malice intended,” he reasons.
Maryanne, who often gets mistaken for a Filipina, shares how a Grabcar driver once asked if she got here by boat when she told him she was an Orang Ulu from Sarawak.
“Recently, my team won a water activity at the pool. And someone quipped: ‘Of course they can swim well. They’ve got rivers behind their houses.’ But I live in a town and I’m not a good swimmer.”
Before packing up for the big city, Noryanti wondered whether she would be accepted by her peers.
“I had so many questions and was worried about whether I would be perceived negatively by students here. But once I made up my mind to come, I prepared myself mentally.
“So, although I was asked many funny questions initially, I chose to be open minded and to address them without taking things to heart,” she says, crediting her positive attitude for being able to fit in easily.
Like Noryanti, Mohd Nizamuddin feels like he belongs. He treats stereotypes like jokes. The bubbly character doesn’t take for granted the hospitality and love of his friends at UM because not everyone has had the same welcoming experience.
“UM is very open, so, we feel at home. But how we react and adapt is also important.”
Recalling her first impression of KL, Azwa Azwana, who’s a Dusun like Noryanti, marvelled at the city’s LRT, MRT, tolled highways, and skyscrapers. And, because of her features, people often spoke to her in Mandarin. ‘Sorry I’m not Chinese’ was a phrase she’d utter every other day.
“When I tell them I’m from Sabah, I sometimes get perplexed looks. Some even ask if Sabah is in Indonesia or Thailand.”
Describing it as “a bit of a culture shock”, she says the hot weather was unlike back home.
“I kept getting sick here. In Sabah, it’s cooler because we have so many trees. Our buildings aren’t as tall. And the night sky is always full of stars. In my first month here, I was hunting for stars every night before finally spotting one,” she recalls, laughing.
For Valentina, the culture shock had nothing to do with the environment. It was the people. She was upset at how race-centric and cliquish some of her peers were.
The daughter of an Iban mother and a Chinese father, she’s been called a “banana” – Chinese who are unable to speak Mandarin.
“I felt so sad. Back home, everyone just sits together and chats.
“The race and religion question never gets asked. It’s irrelevant. That’s our way of life.
“When I came here, I didn’t know who to mix with because those of the same race tend to stick together. I didn’t want to offend anyone, yet I could click with everyone.
“One day, a friend asked why I mix with the Malays more than the Chinese. I though it was a joke. Then I realised it was a serious question.”
Dumbfounded, she ended up inviting her friend to visit Sarawak to see how the communities there interact with each other.
“I have a Chinese surname but I’m Iban. We’re a mix of so many races but some people just want to pigeon-hole us.”
www.Teo-Education.Com
