Malaysian Election Brings Out The Racism Ghosts In Us

I board­ed the plane head­ed back to Malaysia, for the first time in my life, I am exer­cis­ing my rights, and my duty to my coun­try.

Fun­ny is that I am required to pay thou­sands of ring­git of tax­es, and yet I have to reg­is­ter myself to vote in my coun­try, but that’s anoth­er sto­ry.

I live in an area where the com­mu­ni­ty bare­ly know each oth­er. Per­haps the sit­u­a­tion got worst when the res­i­dence here are most­ly work­ing adults rent­ing on sin­gle rooms. How­ev­er, I do know my neigh­bors in my small gat­ed com­mu­ni­ty.

Still wear­ing traces of alco­hol from last night’s par­ty, I head­ed to the polling sta­tion that I was sup­posed to be. Dad was sup­posed to give me a lift but I decid­ed to head on out myself first; he was hav­ing his morn­ing tea with his friends at a near­by cof­fee shop.

So I was lin­ing up for about fif­teen min­utes before this cou­ple approached me. The guy first asked me to sing Negaraku. I asked him to go away. His female com­pan­ion was ask­ing me why I don’t have a BCG scar (I was wear­ing a sin­glet). They asked which part of Indone­sia am I from and all sort of degrad­ing ques­tions. I ignored them. The female com­pan­ion looks like those cam whor­ing bim­bos with over­loads of cheap make up prod­ucts on their face, per­haps to cov­er up their flaws that every­one but them­selves sees.

The crowd slow­ly gath­ered, most­ly yup­pies that I do not rec­og­nize. I was blocked for enter­ing the polling sta­tion. Peo­ple start­ing tak­ing pho­tos of me. For about 10 min­utes of inter­ro­ga­tion, the police came, sub­se­quent­ly like a well played movie, so did my dad.

The yup­pie boy friend was shout­ing at the police while point­ing his man­i­cured fin­gers at me shout­ing “Han­tu, han­tu”. The girl friend was busy shov­ing her con­dom wrapped Galaxy Note II in my face. Wished I swipe it off her hand, though.

So the police came. Looked at me, then look back at the cou­ple. “Mana han­tu?”

I looked back at the police, first time speak­ing. I said “Semalam girl friend tak bagi jolok, hari ni mau show kasi man sik­it.” The cops laugh. Then told the cou­ple. “Ini anak tan sri. Mana ade han­tu?”

I replied, “Make up macam han­tu, boleh ke?”

We both laugh.

That two were nev­er seen in the line after that.

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