“Welcome to Malaysia!” “What do you think?” “How do you like it?” “Have you tried…?” “Have you seen…?”
Everyone I meet wants to know what I think of Malaysia, and my answers are always the same.
Do I like the food?
YES! YES! YES!
Even when I’m nearly crying from the spice (which I’ve been told by coworkers and food vendors is often not even spicy), it is delicious! I want to try everything I see. I aim to have eaten my way through KL by November—though I’ve been told this may be impossible.
Where have you gone?
So many places! And more to come!
The Petronas Towers, George Town, Penang Hill, a Wesak day parade (Buddha’s Birthday), Central Market, thrift stores, Chinese food outdoor markets, a million malls, temples, a Klan house, bookstores, a Gaelic football tournament, a refugee football tournament, multiple mamaks (an open-air, restaurant or street stall run by the local Indian-Muslim community), and so many more places. Exploring has been incredible, and I’ve loved nearly every moment of it!
What is different from home?
So many things!
The food (I have loved pretty much every single meal, snack, drink, and dessert I’ve had), the culture—or should I say cultures, plural. The city is a beautiful and incredibly diverse mix of food, language, and customs. The crazy roads (though I’m finally starting to get the hang of crossing highways without crosswalks). The weather (I’ve learned that the weather app is ALWAYS wrong. I’ve seen more lightning in the last month than in my entire life, and I now carry an umbrella everywhere with me, no matter what the sky looks like when I leave the apartment. The heat has become manageable in the last two weeks, and I’m thankful for the wind every day). And the people—their easy friendliness and kindness rival, and then surpass, that of Canadians. Everyone is ready to help, answer questions, or give advice.
And yet, I am surprised by the familiarity of life here in KL.
The city, the people, the language, the daily rhythm, the fast food, the grocery stores, the brands, the pop culture references that the kids at the school make—their love of TikTok dances, of Ronaldo, of KATSEYE. So many things are so familiar to me, and yet everything is also different.
I’m working with people who have lived lives so different from my own. I carry a passport and have a background that allows me to move through the world differently—and often much more freely—than many of the people around me. It’s something I think about often and something that I’ve been wrestling with when conversing with coworkers and students (many of whom are refugees with a precarious status in Malaysia).
During my first week of work, my fellow interns and I were helping a group of students practice their parts in a play when one of the students, a 7-year-old girl, told her teacher she was going to drop out. When I asked her why, trying to encourage her to keep working at it, she told me that she didn’t want to do the play because she was sad—her father had died recently, back in her home country.
In that moment, I was reminded that many of the children (and adults) I work with carry stories that are far heavier than anything visible on the surface. They still laugh, play games, argue with their friends, and get excited about the World Cup and TikTok dances, but many of them are also carrying grief, displacement, uncertainty, and responsibilities that I cannot relate to. Since this instance, I have tried to listen more carefully, and unlike back home, think carefully about my responses to the moments where they share their grief, life experiences, and questions before answering. “I understand” is not something I can say much here, and it has caused me to reflect on how I can understand myself and the people I am working with. Overall, I keep coming back to the idea that the best thing I can do is be present and listen.
Dinah and I selling fruit at a Gaelic football tournament. AND My first Saturday with the students, supervising a workshop run by a Malaysian university. Lots of fun!
I didn’t have too many expectations coming here, and that was on purpose. I’m someone who, once I have an idea of how things are going to go, can get pretty thrown off when reality doesn’t match the version in my head. But I can choose to be open. And over and over again, I find myself grateful that I made that choice when embarking on this journey. I accept things as they come, and I try not to be discouraged by changes.
Life has been busy here. This is only my second Saturday off since I arrived more than a month ago, and the first one was a holiday. And, I won’t have another full weekend off until July 18th. Most days are packed at work: teaching, supervising, organizing, planning, running around, etc… And while, at times, I wish I had more free time to explore, I am having such an amazing time, learning so much, and truly getting to know the staff and students that everything is worth it.
By far, the majority of my favourite experiences have been with the students at MSRI’s Sahabat school. Choruses of “Hello Teacher!” seem to follow Maddie, Dinah, and me around not only the school, but also our apartment building and our neighbourhood. These greetings are often followed by hugs from the students that make me feel like I am part of the community here. That feeling of belonging, especially so far from home, is really meaningful to me. Just a few days ago, we were invited to a student’s 8th birthday party, invited into her home, and were able to try Afghan snacks, tea, and cake while we watched the kids play. It was so simply ordinary and similar to home. And yet, as I sat there, I was struck by how extraordinary it felt to be included so generously in a community that I have only just begun to know.
I am so excited to continue learning from and exploring this community, this city, and this country while I am here.
Emily 🙂
