Cast From The Herd Excerpt #112: Unexpected Culture Shock

 Cast From The Herd:  Memories of Matriarchal Malaysia

M. Bakri Musa

Excerpt # 112:  Unexpected Culture Shock!

I was awakened by a frantic knocking on the door of my hotel room. Dazed and unable to overcome my jetlag-imposed grogginess, I ignored the interruption thinking that it was a bad dream, but the knocking continued. As I opened the door my fellow Malaysian student busted in, breathless and trembling. 

            Apparently when he returned to his room after breakfast that morning, there was a white woman in his room. He thought he had done something terribly wrong, like squatting on his feet instead of sitting on the toilet bowl, and she was there to order him out. 

            “I say man!” he gasped, unable to contain his fear. “I don’t believe this!” He had difficulty completing his sentences. “Help me!” he pleaded. Then realizing that his excitement did not register on me, he dragged me to his room and pushed me through the door while he stood behind in the safety of the hallway. A smiling elderly lady with horn-rimmed glasses greeted me as she continued puffing up the pillows. She asked where I was from and when I replied, she surprised me. “Where’s that, honey?” 

            I felt offended that she did not know where Malaysia was. “It’s between China and India,” was my curt, haughty reply. 

            “My! That’s mighty far away ain’t it! Must be pretty there, darlin!” she continued herself. I nodded, not knowing what to add. “Are you staying long in our country?”

            With some cockiness I told her that I was a medical student. She stiffened up, wiped her hair with her palm, and with her chin up said, “My two grandsons completed high school!” 

            As I looked more at her, she reminded me of my grandmother, with her long gray hair pulled back in a severe bun. She walked in tiny steps, just like my grandmother except that my grandmother would be wearing the terompak, a wooden sandal. Here she was in her proud uniform still working while my grandmother was indulging her grandchildren. I was unsure whether I should feel sorry for or proud of this maid. Soon she made a final wipe on the mirror, wished me well, and left the room. 

            My friend rushed in, inquiring what had happened. I related our conversation. He was stunned that a Mat Salleh (Malay nickname for a Caucasian) woman was cleaning up after him. 

            That was our or rather his first culture shock. Used to seeing Mems lording over the natives back home, the sight of them as maids was disorienting. For me however, seeing that elderly grandmother still working instead of playing with her grandchildren was the shocker. I remember my grandmother cooking many late-night dinners just for me. She could pound a mean sambal belacan (ground chili mixed with shrimp paste); I could eat a plate-full of rice just with that. In truth there was little else to put on the rice. In contrast, here in Canada grandmothers served only paying customers. 

            My friend and I fell into a spontaneous discussion on how different Canada was, especially the way it treated its elderly, and how wonderful things were back home. We resolved that we would never let our parents or grandparents spend their golden years like this elderly lady, having to toil for a living. We would take care of them so they could enjoy their golden years playing with their grandchildren. 

            With that smug sense of cultural superiority, I returned to my room to resume my interrupted and much-needed sleep. By this time the mem had already finished cleaning my room. I felt guilty sleeping on that clean bed. However, my physical fatigue, and now also mental after that heavy conversation, overtook me. 

Next:  Excerpt # 113:  Lessons On Filial Loyalty