of baju kurung and living in Sabah

Being a Sabahan, I grew up without much awareness of the ethnic-stereotyping that is quite typical in Peninsular Malaysia. In Sabah, there's nothing weird about wearing a baju kurung and speaking Malay while eating pork in a Chinese restaurant because baju kurung and speaking Malay are not associated with being a Muslim. In Sabah no one thinks of others as being Malay, Chinese or Indian. That would have been difficult to do, considering that there are more than 100 ethnic groups here.

The most that people do to point out differences would be to label people as Muslims or Non-Muslims. It is only when it is really really necessary that people ask what your ethnic group is. It doesn't mean that people don't recognize differences. They do, quietly, because there's no need to be loud about it. Anyway, I think there are some exception to this. Like today for example, I met a friend's mom for coffee. I wore a baju kurung because I was working. We don't know each other that well, having met only once in Perth. She hesitated a bit then blurted out, "you are wearing baju kurung. Does that mean that you have become a Muslim? Because I'd like to invite you for a meal at home one of these days and I don't want to be serving you food you cannot take". Stunned, I looked at her then laughed my heart out. I explained to her that everyone wears baju kurung here, whether or not one is a Muslim. It is comfortable and easy to take care of so I often wear one. The aunty smiled and realized her mistake for generalizing.

That reminded me of the first time I got the same reaction. It was in KL, a few years ago when I was a student. I wore a baju kurung to one of the lectures at the uni and somebody actually congratulated me for having become a Muslim. It was a shock then, because that was my first introduction to the stereotyping, and back then, I thought the person who said that to me was kind of... rude. But that was before. Now I can laugh this thing off and do my best to explain my position. I live in Sabah and here anything decent that you wear is acceptable....to almost everyone :-).

Dowry...

...suddenly I'm thinking about the concept of dowry among some cultures like mine. Perhaps in this modern world, it is a much misunderstood concept. In my culture nowadays, at least to my limited observation, daughters try so hard to discourage their parents from receiving dowry from their future husbands. Well, admittedly when I was getting married, I did have some uneasy feeling about my parents asking for dowry from my husband-to-be. It's like you are 'being sold'...sort of. Thankfully my parents didn't ask for money, rather a traditional token as a symbolic respect for the long-observed tradition.

I've heard of people setting the amount of dowry based on the educational achievement of the daughter. I don't actually know how far true that is. It could be just an urban legend. That would imply that a daughter who completed a degree would gain a higher amount of dowry compared to a high-school graduate. Hmm...maybe this is when dowry equates to 'selling off one's daughter'?...Or are there some underlying reasonings that I failed to see?

Recently I had the pleasure of witnessing a traditional engagement ceremony, and I learnt a new meaning of the word 'dowry'. In that ceremony the parents of the bride-to-be refused or rather tried to refuse a dowry offering. But it was denied by the village headman. The groom-to-be family explained that 'dowry' is a much-honored tradition among the people because it signifies the man's appreciation to the lady he is intending to marry. Now that is beautiful. All my prior prejudices about dowry were lifted...thank goodness. Perhaps when the time comes for me to marry off my daughters, I won't hesitate to continue upholding the dowry tradition anymore...

Well, interpreted correctly, traditions can be beautiful.

Home sweet home

After over a year of being away, I'm home again for a short while. Home sweet home is tucked away somewhere at the foot of the mountain, maybe not quite but close. The air is fresh and the only sounds you hear are from nature; birds, crickets and rain. Ocassionally, my nephews do turn on their computers a wee bit too loud but mostly they just close the door of the computer room and keep the modern sound in there...

Here there's no traffic during rush hours, no bad drivers honking impatiently when you are a bit slow on the road. Just this afternoon when my aunt and I decided to walk back the 3 miles home from somebody's house instead of waiting for my Dad to pick us up, somebody we know who lives out of the way offered us a ride and wouldn't accept 'no' for an answer. Business opens more or less according to your need. You need a hair wash at 8.30 am or 5.35 pm, you get it, even if the sign states 'open 9.00 am - 5.30pm'. Everyone is just too happy to be of service to you.

Of course there are some minuses. Some people just don't have the sense of aesthestic they have uncollected rubbish at their vicinity all the time. Or they are too leisurely they couldn't be bothered to cut down the branches of overgrown trees and grass in their yards. Or they have too many animals walking about the road in front of their houses one feels nervous to pass by.

But overall, home is sweet home. It feels good to sit outside somebody's house listening to harmless gossips and bankerings...having a cuppa any time of the day, plucking fresh papayas from the tree in front of the house, and simply relaxing.

Binamban and Linabok

This short movie about this food called Binamban is really heartwarming.It brings back memories of an almost forgotten childhood.

Once upon a time when I was young, mom and sometimes my late grandma used to make a delicacy that's almost similar to this, called Linabok. They'd grate banana, cassava, corn or a combination of those to make the cake. Then they'd wrap a small portion in a piece of banana leave, arranged the wrapped cakes in a steaming rack, and steamed them for an hour or so. Sweet without the use of processed sweetener, and aromatic without the use of artificial essence, this food is simply fantastic.

Having taken so many things for granted, I've never learned to make Linabok. Seeing Binamban makes me realize what I've missed. Now I'm going to put this in my next target list: learn to make Linabok from mom.

Watch the film...

View this movie at cultureunplugged.com

Good Friday and cultural influence

I am not an anthropologist, but I've always been fascinated with things to do with the human race and their cultures. As I sat in church, participating in the Good Friday celebration today, the various reactions of people during the veneration of the cross continued to amazed me. Some people lightly kissed the crucifix, some bowed, and some even kneeled, bowed and kissed it with great reverance. Yet some refused to do the act, although later I saw them went to receive the communion. It could be culture or choice that drives people to this celebration then, I said to myself.

I might not understand fully the significant of the act, but I understand enough to know that one kisses the crucifix to show gratefulness and respect toJesus' who died on the cross to bear the sins of sinners (am I not one?). I've done it perhaps 20 times, that's equal more than half of my life, and while I questioned the very act before I came to be comfortable with my faith, I've never really been made to feel that I was worshipping an object, contrary to popular belief. Now that must be acceptance of one's faith, or it could also be due to cultural influence.

It's strange that I've never really had the chance to practice my own culture when I was growing up. Must have been due to modernization or 'mainsreamization' of minor societies like mine. But one thing for sure, I hold a healthy respect toward my culture. When my grandfather or grandmother performed one of their cultural rituals (bless their souls), I always felt overwhelmed with pride and pleasure, of feeling of belonging to something solid and traditional. Now my grandparents, before they embraced Catholic, used to be 'traditionalists'. And yet they didn't have any problem converting. Apart from having had been approached by missionaries who lived a simple and honest life, I can think of another reason why they did it.

It must be the 'fit' factor. In some way, Christianity fits with my people's cultural beliefs. Someone long ago told me that the concept of sacrifice of Jesus on the cross is nothing alien to my people. In our story of creation, a young lady was sacrificed during famine to save the people of her land. From her blood grew rice and other food plants. And so I think that is the 'fit' concept. Furthermore, our people believed (and some still do) that once the soul leaves the body, it went up to this special place on top of the Kinabalu Mountain, which was thought to be the highest place on earth (our earth obviously). In a way, that resembles 'going up to heaven'.

Traditional cultures might or might not influence one's religious belief. In my case, it might have. And that is another reason why I feel comfortable with my faith, regardless of whether or not I am truly religious.

Religions, to my way of thinking...

I've been reading religious blogs today. Some have peaceful, harmonius tones, while some have this high and mighty "I am the truth" tone. For some reason I always feel insulted when people say "my religion is the truth" by giving all the arguments about how false other religions are. Even people from my own religion! I can't take such attitude. Anyway, it's their right. And I console myself that it's my right to think this:

Once upon a time, during the stage of evolution, people were really really bad (at some part of the earth) that God decided he had had enough and sent Moses to correct their ways. And thereof came Judaism. Some people became good, and yet some were still bad. So he sent Jesus to correct them. It took Jesus' dying on the cross to convince some people of God's love for them. And so Christianity started. And yet some people still refused to change their old, bad ways. So God sent Muhamad, the great prophet to teach them. And so the three religions remain. People who are comfortable with Judaism practice it to this day. People who are comfortable with Christianity practice their beliefs, and those who are comfortable with Islam, become its followers. Thus, God must see that different people have different needs, that He let them practice their religions and accepts them all with love and grace, for if He should want only one religion to exist, I believe He could easily make it so.

And so I think, in some parts of the world, people who can become good without the God from the Book, found their own means to reach God. Thus, there are Hinduism, Buddhism etc. One universal God, but different conception and means to reach Him.

And yet people are still searching in today's world...will God send another great person to teach them? Or should the believers lead them to the God they know? Would it be to the extent of spilling blood in the name of God?

It's all a matter of beliefs. I very much believe that God doesn't want people to spill blood because of religion, for that contradicts God's loving nature. To me personally, I am comfortable believing in God the way I do. A simple me...thanking God for my existence...

On lullabies and religions

I was singing lullabies to little Noel earlier. I started with his favourite "Hush Little baby", then our routine "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name..." I know this can hardly be called a lullaby, but it is to us. Day after day without fail, it puts my little one to sleep...anyway, I started reflecting why it is such a comforting song. Could it be because of its melodious nature, or could it be the words?

One thought led to another, and I started seriously thinking about faith, and life and believers...Am I a true believer? I guess although I can't call myself purely religious, I must be a believer enough to be able to feel that in my lowest moment, there's a hand that always pulls me up. In times when I feel that life has no meaning and direction, there's a soothing nudge in my heart that makes me able to feel good again. It must be some powers out there that I've known as God. And I feel content simply to feel that this God is always leading me to love- myself, my family, my friends, strangers, and even foes.

I thought I must be in the category of people who stick to religion NOT because they want to find The Truth, but because religions make them feel positive. I guess I feel positive because what I believe in emphasizes in Love, which suits me very well. I can't say I have a good knowledge about religions, but I've seen how religions affect people (in some ways). There's this camp that practice the teachings of their religion and generally become good. And yet another camp thought that everyone should embrace their religion (and this applies to many religions) because theirs and theirs alone is The Truth. Well, I have no objection to people believing that their way is The Truth. That, I believe, is personal. But I have an issue with people who coerce, and force others to follow them in the name of God. That, to me, is negative. It is such attitude that leads people to hate and even kill each other...and I wonder if they feel good because of that.

Anyway, I am happy enough to be in my camp. I might not know whether what I believe in is The Truth, but my life is meaningful because of that. For the simple me, it is enough that I can live positively in this life, trying to love others as I feel loved...