Cast From The Herd: Memories of Matriarchal Malaysia
M. Bakri Musa
Excerpt # 88: Corralling A Raging Canadian Bull
Later that afternoon following the morning’s humiliation during our math class, Mr. Brown wandered over to his students’ dorm which was adjacent to our Sixth Form block. He did that often; he was their dorm advisor. That afternoon however, he was not interested in visiting them; he wanted to see us. He did not know how to do that seeing that he had totally humiliated us earlier that morning. He idled his way towards our dorm. He saw one of the Arts students strumming a guitar and struck up a conversation. Soon Brown was playing the guitar and yodeling cowboy medleys.
Music is a great ice breaker and also, a pacifier. Before long we were chatting about what was on the Canadian hit parade list. The banter went well and casual enough, and then suddenly, an awkward silence. The lingering bitter aftertaste of the morning tirade hit us. We all knew what we were thinking but no one dared make any reference to it.
Atan rescued us from the embarrassing silence; he had the courage. “It’s ... it’s like this, Mr. Brown,” he said, deliberately pausing, not for emphasis but to camouflage his slight stutter, “We don’t like telling others our real ambition. We would be made fun of or worse, seen as a show-off.”
“But I’m not 'others.' I am your teacher, for heaven’s sake.” Realizing that he had raised his voice, he stopped. “I’m sorry. Go on Atan.”
“Look at Nik Zainal here. He wants to be a cardiologist. He tells us that often. But then we are his friends.”
“Good for you Nik!’ as Brown nodded in Nik’s direction. Nik was embarrassed to be singled out.
“Likewise Bakri,” Atan continued, “he wants to be a surgeon.”
“Really! I should have asked you this morning,” as Brown turned towards me.
“No!” Atan interrupted, “If you did, Bakri would say he too wanted to be a teacher.” Atan was not far off there. Brown laughed as he threw his hands up in the air. Atan drove his point further. “Besar here wants to be a rocket scientist, and Syed there, a nuclear physicist.”
“A nuclear physicist!” hooted someone at the back in mocked admiration.
“See what I mean?” We all laughed; Atan had made his point, and very effectively too.
That afternoon as he left our dorm, Brown had a better appreciation of us. Imagine if he had not come to our dorm that afternoon and a year later left for Cambridge. His impression of us Malay boys and Malays generally would have been far different. This is one handicap teachers at day schools who are not Malays have of their Malay students. Many if not most do not realize that.
Looking back, our behaviors then may seem odd or even pathologic, and that may well be. However this was the 1950s and 60s when Malay graduates in the sciences were as scarce as finding a banana plant in a field of lallang, and when the prevailing belief was that the Malay mind could not handle tough intellectual pursuits as the sciences. Nor was that phenomenon unique unto Malays, then or now.
At least Mr. Brown had the chance to be corrected of his initial jaundiced impression of the natives. He did it because he was smart; he intuitively knew not to trust his quick first judgement, more so when made in anger or in the heat of the moment. This critical self-introspection is what many non-Malays in Malaysia or for that matter Malay leaders lack even to this day. Witness Mahathir’s endless tirades or excuses with regards to the ‘Malay problem.’ “We are lazy, forget easily, do not Look East enough, or that we do not emulate the successful Chinese,” he would utter with nauseating frequency at every turn. Never mind that he had over two decades and two chances to rectify the situation. Unlike Brown who tried early and earnestly to find out the answers, Mahathir and these other Malay leaders did not. They were ( and still are) satisfied – nay, smug – with their ignorance and pat solutions that have proven ineffective for the umpteenth time.
Next: Episode 89: A New Breed Of Prefects
