A Malaysian Girl's Voice! [Recommended]

This article was extracted from my early NetEase blog. NetEase Blog is no longer operating, but looking back, these words are still quite interesting, so I decided to move them over as intact as possible. This is mainly kept as a record; after all these years, the quality of the text, images, and links may all have been affected.

This article was originally published on September 16, 2008. I was about 19 years old at the time and was in college.

Recently, while chatting on ICQ, I accidentally got to know a few more Malaysians. Later, on a webpage, I saw an article written by a Malaysian girl. It touched me deeply, so I am sharing it with everyone, so we can understand Malaysia a little more! A Malaysian Girl's Heartache

My heart aches. A few days ago, I was on QQ, and a girl started chatting with me. I told her I was Malaysian. She did not believe me and told me not to tease her. I replied that I was Malaysian Chinese. She actually said, "Oh, so you are a traitor." At that moment, my heart broke. Why would she think that? Why would she say something so heartless? I said I really was Malaysian, but she still did not believe me. Then she refused to keep chatting with me, and I said goodbye to her very casually too. At that moment, I felt so sad inside. What a shallow girl. As a girl myself, I felt deeply sad for her. A girl who cannot accept anything beyond her own knowledge, a girl who decides that Malaysian Chinese are traitors. Where did that idea come from? I kept seeing the two words "traitor" circling in my mind. Why? Later, I remembered what my teacher said: back then, people in China looked down on those who went south to Malaysia, thinking they had abandoned their ancestral graves in China. I feel wronged on behalf of those ancestors who went south. Yes! They left behind their ancestral graves in China, but how much heartache, how much determination, how much sadness was carried inside that? Does anyone understand? With how much courage, how much helplessness, they came to Nanyang to make a living while bearing the accusation of betrayal. Without those ancestors of the past, there would be no me standing today on this land of Malaysia. When they came to this land, they were in Nanyang, but their hearts were tied to China. But does anyone know? When Japan invaded China back then, how much money and manpower did Malaysian Chinese contribute? Does anyone still know today? I can only say that I am proud to be Malaysian Chinese, and I am proud to be Malaysian. Malaysian Chinese care a lot about ancestral graves. During Qingming, the entire cemetery hill, the grave mountain, is full of people. We personally sweep the graves. When others make online tomb-sweeping fashionable, we deeply despise that behavior. Are we Malaysian Chinese traitors? Heaven! I really want to cry. A few days ago, my roommate was chatting on QQ with a Chinese friend of hers. That boy said that in a football match between China and Malaysia, Malaysia lost and China won, and asked whether we were happy to hear the news. Heaven! How could we be happy? We wish Malaysia's football team would grow stronger and properly win a match. He said, aren't you Chinese? Why would you support Malaysians? He said Chinese blood flows in our bodies. Yes! We do not deny that, but our nationality is Malaysian. In international settings, we confidently say: "We are Malaysian, we come from Malaysia." We will say loudly that we are Malaysian Chinese, but we are not Chinese. Our ancestors were Chinese. Even if our blood comes from China, after eating Malaysian food, drinking Malaysian water, and living for so many years under Malaysia's hot sun, at least half of our blood is Malaysian. Malaysia is our mother. When chatting with foreigners, whether they are from China, Hong Kong, or Taiwan, after they find out I am Malaysian, most of them ask me: how can you speak Chinese? Heaven! You can even write Chinese characters! Oh! You are even a Chinese major. Are you mixed-race? Are you an overseas Chinese from Malaysia? You study Chinese too? Is Malaysia very far away? I say it only takes four hours to fly from China to Malaysia, and they still do not believe it! The ruder ones ask me, do you live in trees? I get so angry and tell her: yes, we live in trees. Next time you come, you can slowly climb up. What about me? I will take the elevator. If someone chats with me, learns that I am Malaysian, and does not ask these questions, I deeply admire them. They are open-minded, true friends. Every time I answer these questions, my heart aches so much. I feel sad, and even a little ironic. I want to say loudly: "I am Malaysian. I am part of the Chinese community, one of Malaysia's three major ethnic groups. I grew up in a beautiful tropical country. I love, love, love this land of Malaysia that nurtured me."