Before I Leave Home For Good

Dear Malaysia,

Like many others, I've always dreamed of studying and living elsewhere to get the experience. Not so much the former anymore since I've graduated (but I could always go back to school!), but definitely moving country to country and living the dream.

I haven't thought much about migrating though. You see, I had always wanted to be "contributing" to my country in ways I could never imagine. Something that could uplift the spirit of the nation, but then again, I haven't been actively doing anything in my last (almost) 28 years of being here anyway...

Oh btw, if you overlooked my subtitle, I'm from Malaysia. Teehee.

Whenever I think of home, I would always associate it to being the land of colours; ever so colourful, radiant, warm. However, I am starting to not feel much of those anymore. Maybe it's the chaotic political scene here, or the lack of warmth I feel in my very own house, or just the inner drive of wanting to get out of where I'm at. Or all of the mentioned. I'm not so sure.

Don't get me wrong though. I love Malaysia. It's the place where I was born and bred, and if all things fail to declare my love to the country, there's always the topic of our food. Our food is the best! There's always going to be two things that can unite us all together, and it's really just food and badminton (we will always love you, Lee Chong Wei).

We Asians love our rice. Nasi lemak. Nasi kerabu. Nasi goreng. So before I leave the country, during the flight and after I've landed, pretty sure rice is going to be my staple food.

No, I'm not kidding (and plus, AirAsia's nasi lemak is still the best in-flight menu item). I would want a taste of home before I'm about to indulge in fries and gain an extra 10kg. I love fries(!) but rice is always going to be my first love :)

Let's go back to "migration". I always thought the word meant that someone wants to leave their origin place for good, and not coming back (maybe once a year, and that's it). And I also (guiltily) always thought whoever that left Malaysia must've given up on the country and so they are "traitors". Forgive me, but I've never been so wrong in my life.

If we take a look at the definition for "migrate", it means:

the movement by people from one place to another, particularly different countries, with the intention of settling temporarily or permanently in the new location.

There. The keyword is temporarily! I was actually ecstatic when I found out that I didn't have to migrate permanently because it still can mean something temporary. But then again, it wouldn't be a completely bad idea to move permanently, no?

What about contributing to my country like I said I would? Who's going to take care of my aging mum and dad if I leave? Will my relationship with my family deteriorate if I'm away? What about leaving everything behind, does that mean I'm a "traitor" too? Is moving away the only option to be happy?

I think this is what being Asian and upholding filial piety since young does to you. You start questioning your very existence.

Again, I haven't thought too much about migrating, but maybe I have to. What right do I have to say that those who left the country did not contribute back to the economy/society? There are plenty of ways to send help back home. Plenty of organisations and NGOs will need funding, the youth would need direction, and mum and dad would need to see me happy too. Right?

As I write this with mixed feelings - my chest feels both heavy and lifted - I started crying too. I'm emotional that way. I'm afraid of so many things, doubtful of my decisions, and paranoid about everything.

Would I get weird stares from my fellow friends when I'm back with an Australian accent, my Japanese fashion sense and thinking in my new worldly manner?

Well, if they do, we probably would be better off as not "friends", right? Because friends wouldn't judge you, let alone giving weird stares and exchanging disheartening remarks.

I guess what I'm really trying to say here is, if I ever leave Malaysia for good, I am still coming back for holidays. I will still love nasi lemak with all my heart. I will still hope for a better future for our youth. I will still strive to contribute as much as I can for my people back home.

My wish for the country is to let it grow again, to be more inviting, more authentic and with a better sense of direction. I want to be there when it happens, but it's time to also live my life the way I want it to, without feeling guilt written all over my forehead.

If I want to migrate, it should be ok. If I want to speak with another accent, it's okay. And if I want to do things that will make my family not okay but makes me happy, it's okay too.

It's time I live for me. And I'm saying you should too. I don't know when I'm leaving yet, but I'm starting to make plans.

Here's to the future, and to always keeping you close to my heart. Also, I realise I am not doing this to live the dream, but to live life.

Love,

Sookie.