Kak!

A friend recently shared an article comparing how well mums and maids knew the children. It made for an interesting read, and since I've also been discussing maids with my friends in the past few days, I thought I'd blog a little about this topic.

Foreign Domestic Workers a.k.a. maids a.k.a. kakaks a.k.a. mbak

I know having a full time, live-in maid isn't something common in the West, but my mom grew up with maids, my siblings and I grew up with maids, my younger cousins grew up with maids, almost all my friends grew up with maids - it was just the norm for us. And the few friends that I knew who didn't grow up with a maid had a mom who was a full-time housewife.

Obviously, I knew that not every single family could afford a kakak, but it wasn't until I went abroad to study that I met Malaysians who grew up without a maid (and their moms weren't housewives either!) My first question (after getting over the "culture shock"), was: "but how do you survive?!"


Growing up, I was definitely close with my maids. Not that I wasn't close with my parents - it's just that while they were away at work, it was basically the maid and my grandma (and the occasional relative) at home with us. And because I didn't have a penis, I didn't have a lot of relatives doting upon me or giving me attention (she said, without a trace of resentment in her tone.) So, I looked to my kakak for everything. I was definitely very attached to our maids while I was young.

I spoke Indonesian and English as a child (communicating in Chinese or Hokkien was a nightmare); I cried when my kakak cut herself (i didn't exactly shed tears when my aunt cut herself the next day); I picked up Cantonese watching Hong Kong dramas with my maid; they tied my hair and dressed me up; they came on holidays with us; they wiped away our tears after my parents gave us scoldings and thrashings; they cooked late night suppers for us; they located things we misplaced/didn't put away properly... They did everything. And whenever they went home for Hari Raya holidays, we would tread water (rather miserably) and try to stay afloat until they came back.

I believe we had our very first maid shortly after I was born (Yani), and went through a few (Ani, Isa, Yuli, Tina) until our final one (Siti) who left when I was around 22. The first thought that came to my mind was: but who's going to prepare my curry and rendang bumbu and sambal to bring abroad? 10months being independent and shit in Moscow and I can't go back to enjoying my 2 months in Malaysia with a kakak who would do everything and cook what I wanted to eat? What is life??

As you can probably tell, I'm definitely very pro-maid. My family has been lucky enough to have had good maids and I believe part of it is because my parents were good majikans/employers. Yes, there are maid related horror stories out there, but I believe for the most part, if you treat them well, they'll treat you nicely too. Unless they are genuinely disturbed.

One of the criteria I've set/ my life goal is to be able to afford a kakak before even thinking about having a kid. Unfortunately, maids are getting harder to afford (agent fees are going up - I believe maids are grossly underpaid for all that they do) and Malaysian laws are getting more stringent. Which sucks. Apparently you have to prove that you have kids (under a certain age) or elderly at home that require additional care from a maid. What nonsense is this?! What if I just suck at being an adult?! D:

My oh my...

How does one cling on to such ridiculous assumptions? I've come to accept that our society is ugly and toxic and a cesspit of nastiness, but shouldn't we, as medical students, or one day, doctors, draw a line somewhere?

Who are you to judge a patient's social history? Who are you to make assumptions on how a patient acquired a certain disease, before you even speak to them?

You would judge someone based on the way they look?


You think you're so smart, walking around all high and mighty, assuming everyone else is beneath you - socially and intellectually.

Look at that patient. He/she is here because of a CVD. Obviously he/she ate her way to this disease. It serves him/her right, right? Who cares if it might have been an inheritable condition? No one bothers to learn if his/her societal background might have played a role in the development of this disease. Maybe he/she is already doing his/her best.

Or here's another scenario. You've been told you're meeting a HIV+ve patient. Your first assumptions are that he/she is a drug addict or has multiple sexual partners. Obviously. Good job there. What about the possibility of him/her inheriting it from his/her mom? Or what if their partner cheated on them and gave them HIV? Or what if it was a fuck up at the hospital by an incompetent nurse/doctor/medical student just like you?


We are an ignorant society who rants and raves on the world stage.


And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing. 

Heart vs. Brain

Decisions, decisions…

So I’m at a personal crossroads of sorts. I’m thinking of staying in Moscow over the coming summer.

I mean, accommodation isn’t an issue because I’d have to pay rent for my apartment anyway. And I save approx. RM3k on flight tickets. (Ooooh I could use the money to backpack around Europe. :D)

I return every year for two basic things. Food and company (family and friends). The food I can honestly do without. I’m not crazy for local food. I can eat something once in the summer and it’s enough to tide me over until the next year. In fact, I lose weight every summer when I return home. Without even consciously trying to do so. “Missing” Malaysian food won’t be an issue for me, I guess. On the downside, if I remain in Moscow, I’d likely end up maintaining/gaining weight. Drat.

Most of my friends have started working anyway and we rarely meet up anymore. Besides, most of them are back for good so I’d get to see them when I return in 2016(?) anyway.

Family.

Call me a coward but I can foresee my family’s finances getting tighter in the coming year and I’m a shitty human being for even thinking like that, but it would be so much easier for me to stay away. I won’t have to deal with family drama or nagging relatives. If I miss them I could always Skype home. Right?

But I am subconsciously distancing myself. Or so my family has told me. Repeatedly, over the past months. Maybe the past week has been especially tough; maybe the past months were difficult, but I’m kind of afraid if I don’t return, it’d be like I was turning my back on my family. After all, I chose to stay away, I chose to not put in the effort to keep my family together. I chose the easy way out.

That guilt that I would bear is the only reason I haven’t spoken to my parents about staying back in summer.

Everything else is rational and seemingly easy to decide. But the heart is an ass of an organ. Despite behaving like a thinker most of the time, deep down, the feeler in me always puts up a good fight and mess up all my meticulous plans.

Eye is for Inspiration.

So, what drives you? What keeps you motivated to open your eyes every morning, get out of bed and get on with your life?

I’ve been stuck in-between, a limbo of sorts for the past few months. Not exactly a Uni student, but not yet a proper, working adult. I’ve been working at my parent’s office in the meantime, but being the boss’ daughter = flexibility. So while there are days that I don’t have to go into the office because I’m my mom’s driver while she runs errands, there are also days where I bring work home and continue well into the evening/weekends.

But I digress.

Most of the friends that I know before I went to Moscow have been working/will begin working soon. I’ve been hanging around with them the past two months and it definitely took some time to change out of my Uni-student gears, and got me thinking.

Say you don’t have to work because you have a hypothetical trust fund that goes on forever and ever. What would you do with your life if you didn’t have to wake up at 6 or 7 every morning to go to work?

Do you just regress back into the Uni student lifestyle minus the classes and exams?

How do you find something that you can enjoy doing/pursuing for a long-ish course of time?

I get interested in little projects but they’re mostly of the hangat-hangat tahi ayam variety. I bury myself into a project for days/weeks, and when I’m done I close the chapter and just move on. My passion for things are normally just spikes. Sporadic, jumpy, spikes.

The only thing that has been pretty constant for the past few years is my writing, so I guess that’s the only thing I’ve been using to measure my “growth”. Writing was the primary outlet for all the angst I had inside me, and while I like to think I’ve slightly mellowed out, writing is still my go to outlet whenever I have these angsty flares. But over the years, I’ve dabbled into writing different things. It started out with fanfiction, but I’ve tried my hand with writing a love poem back in summer, and more recently, I’ve been working on haikus.

Most of the time I’m rather iffy with what I’ve written/created, but sometimes I find a line or two that I still love after all this time, and it inspires me somehow, in different ways. It’s like every time I visit it, I add a new layer of meaning to it, or I interpret it differently, and that’s what I want to wake up to.

Finding new layers to our everyday life, discovering the little magic in plain things.

Who needs haters...

...when Chinese families do a darn good job of tearing their own kids down?

Here’s something I’ve never told anyone before. While I was growing up, I’ve always seen myself as less than useless to my family. Feeling like I was useless would have been a treat because the only thing I felt was that I was worse than useless – I was a burden to my family. Being female is sin enough (my parents never made me feel this way, but I had more than enough relatives “subtly” hinting at it) but to make things worse, I had nothing to contribute to the family; I was just another mouth at the table for my parents to feed.

So that might have messed my mind a little. Which is why I absolutely loathe this next part.

I’m sure my family wasn’t the only one who did it. I had friends who experienced it as well while we were all growing up. You know, the kiasu competition of “No la, your child is so much better than mine, my child always <insert various complains here>.

It was like a fucking sin to praise your child. 

If you get 97 on a test, your parents ask why you didn’t get 100 instead. When you do get 100, you don’t get a “good job” or “keep up the good work”, it's merely “other students in her class also get 100” or "but she only got 94 for another subject".

When Chinese parents meet, it’s like a bloody competition of lets-see-who-can-out-praise-the-other-kid-while-putting-down-our-own-kid.

Exhibit A:

-Wah, Mrs. X, your daughter so smart, I hear she got a trophy for the storytelling contest.

-No la, she was lucky. Second place only la. Even her teacher says she’s too playful to focus properly. But your daughter also very talented, she’s taking piano exam this year right?

-Aiya, grade 1 only la. Everybody also learning piano, nothing special la. Her teacher also always complain she don’t practice enough. Too lazy. Don’t know if she can even get distinction or not.

Exhibit B:

-Eh Mrs. B, how did your daughter do for her PMR? She so clever, sure straight A’s no problem wan right?

-Oh no la, she’s not as clever as you think la. Her Mandarin is terrible wan. Everybody also say she like banana. She got B for Mandarin. How about your daughter?

-Oh, B for Mandarin. I hear that subject also very difficult. My daughter got straight A’s but only 7 subjects la, she never take Mandarin because too difficult. Mrs. C’s son also got straight A’s but he took the Mandarin paper as well la.

Ps. Pardon the broken English. It's like, a must when these aunties talk to one another.

Honestly. Can Chinese parents never just come out to their kids and say “You did okay/pretty well” or even a simple “You’re on the right track. Just keep doing whatever it is you’re doing”? I'm not even looking for a praise here!

My parents were never really into comparing us with other kids but I SEE YOU, “caring” relatives and “concerned” parents of our friends. I don't mind healthy competition, after all, it pushes us to excel, but I see through your guise. *squints and points finger at you. Yes you, the one feeling guilty/self conscious. I'm talking to you* What is with your circle of toxic? Keep your hating to yourself and if you gossipy hags want to spread something, spread the damn love.

Back in primary school, I’ve only ever felt like I wasn’t ever good enough, but as I went into secondary school, I slowly learned about politics and disguised boasts. But I beg all parents to stop with the unhealthy competition. Because everytime you mention 7 A's and 1 B for Mandarin, I only hear the “1 B for Mandarin" part. Whenever I hear 10 A1s and 2 A2s, I only hear “2 A2s”. It no longer mattered when you would later on assure me you’re proud of all the A's I got because the only thing that I can think of, are the things I didn't do well enough. It’s already ingrained in my system to look for my own faults even when no one’s looking anymore.

Tonight, my mom told me she liked who I had become after I returned from my 1^st year in Russia. I learned how to appreciate things, cared for my family, and became more thoughtful, helpful, and economical, yadda yadda yadda. (There was obviously a big, fat "But" at the end of her sentence.)

Yes, she’s right. I did change for the better. But you’re acknowledging this 3 years too late, mother dearest. This acknowledgement would’ve been useful back when I was trying to help my siblings change, when I was trying to teach my siblings to be more grateful for what we have.

Instead, I felt as though I was speaking to a wall and my good intentions were ignored/no one even realized I was trying.

Which was why I slowly gave up over the years. The girl who cared too much became the girl who DGAF.

I stopped caring because all my efforts felt futile. If someone had even acknowledged my efforts back then, told me that I was on the right track, maybe I wouldn’t have given up so easily. On them, on myself. Who knows?

If my mother could’ve just opened her mouth three years ago instead of three years too late, maybe, she wouldn’t have to call me selfish today.

integrity.

So recently I was stuck in a pretty bad head space, and everything came to a head today. I felt like crap, I had terrible thoughts and nearing the end of the day, I was given an option.

I could take the easy way out and run from my problems by getting a third party to solve them for me, or I could buck up and get my shit together.

I know I've been disappointing my parents a lot lately. And my situation/living condition had gotten to a point where I didn't care about anything anymore. My younger self would be so disappointed in current me. Heck, current me is disgusted by current me.

But my mom had a very good and proper upbringing. She does the right thing not because she's afraid of getting caught, but because it's the right thing to do. No one else might ever find out what you did but you will know what you did. And can you live with that? When you die, do you have a clear conscience?

Everyone has flaws, but she is such a good person. A decent human being, if you will. Unlike me. I am a shit human being. The shittiest of shits. But I digress.

My mom is the kind of person who will help guide you, over and over again, so you won't make mistakes you'd regret for the rest of your life. But at the same time, she believes that if you mess up, you deserve to face the consequences.

She has had(?) such faith and something inside me snapped or clicked or the stars aligned or whatever.

Her integrity inspires me. Her beliefs ground me. Her principles give me the strength to pick myself up and get my shit together.

I'm getting back on track. The journey will suck and there will be times I just want to give up, but I'll get there. I promise. I'm choosing the harder road because you make me want to be a better person. 

I never say this enough, and I'm terrible with communicating, but thanks mom. Thank you for everything. Thank you for being you.  :') <-look! real tears that you never got to see!

i can't even

Honestly.

I’m not high maintenance. I’m not demanding. I’m not a pathetic damsel in distress or a shit human being that needs rescuing or molly coddling.

I’m self-reliant and my basic needs stick to the bare necessities. (Okay, I can be high maintenance sometimes but I can tone things down and survive on the bare basics if need be.)

I’m more than happy if you leave me alone. Honestly, if you didn’t want me to turn into such a shit piece of antisocial, selfish human being, maybe you shouldn’t have bloody banished me to Mother Effing Russia all those years ago, All By Myself.

People change over time, and I’ve gotten comfortable in my own prickly skin. My DGAF attitude is bloody liberating. Maybe you should try it yourself sometimes. Because honestly, think about it. Why are you bending over backwards to please an asshole that doesn’t even show gratitude?

I do your stupid chores, stick to your stupid rules, put up with your stupid quirks. I don’t expect anything in return, but surely a few hours a day to myself isn’t too much to ask?

I watch 20odd episodes of tv shows a week in Moscow. (Yes, the Internet has spoiled me; No, it’s not as bad as it sounds because it’s spread across 6 days and some are half-hour episodes). Anyway, I come back and deal with the disappointing state of Astro and end up with 3hours of tv a week. 3 hours a week. Apparently that is asking too much. 

I would like to watch my shows in peace, which boils down to no interruption during my 1-hour of TV time whenever it crops up. I give everyone plenty warning when my show is on. There is no pause button on Astro. And yes, every stupid question you ask me brings me back to this reality instead of the AU that exists on my show. American (& British) dramas make sense. (Most of the time anyway.) You don’t have too many WTF moments where logic fails to exist. The dialogues are normally one of the best parts of the show. I’d like to pay attention to the actor’s acting skills. Their nuances and expression; the supporting storyline; the character development; the wardrobe and makeup. So many things can happen with just one look. So yes, it annoys the hell out of me when you disturb me or ask inane questions. I enjoy quality TV, which might seem weird to you since all you watch is crap K dramas with terrible acting and clichéd plots. Your dialogues are reduced to subtitles. You don’t mind missing an episode or two because you’ll still know what’s going on in the drama. People on my show die or get blackmailed into doing shit. Basically if I have to miss an episode, I'd rather not watch the rest of the season until I can catch up properly. 

I care about my shows and the characters. I know it’s hard for you to understand because you’ve gotten used to crap, but I have standards and I actually invest in my shows. So please, leave me the hell alone for the duration of an episode. Do you really need me to print something for you right now? Do you really need me to make you a cup of coffee at this time? Am I really the only one who can whip up a late supper for you?

Another thing I’ve gotten used to doing in Moscow is writing. I doodle on pieces of paper; I type away on my laptop. It’s hard enough to find the time to write, harder still to get into the correct mood. If you ask what I’m doing and my reply is “writing” or “my things”, bloody well leave it at that. Because no matter how many times you ask me what I’m writing, my answer will always be “just writing la!”

And for goodness sake, do not fucking read over my shoulder as I type. Yes, I can feel that. It’s creepy and a rude violation of my privacy. Reading something out loud will most definitely end with me glaring daggers at you hoping for you to drop dead and die because seriously, what kind of shitty human being even does that?! 

It's bad enough I can't unwind or de-stress in peace. Honestly, I love each and every one of you, but I need me-time to recharge. The human interaction here is 24/7 and I really need a break from human beings in general. Can we just pretend that I don't exist for a day or two? 

Honestly. I'm getting wound tighter each day and you take away my coping mechanisms. This is a shit show waiting to implode.