White Man's Curse

Back in the 19th Century, they used to talk of the White Man’s Burden, the belief that the European Colonialists were performing a noble but burdensome mission by conquering and subjugating their mostly dark-skinned subjects. Thankfully, these ideas no longer apply in the post-colonial reality of South East Asia, where instead, the burden of rule long ago passed back to the formerly subjugated peoples.

What I have discovered, though, is that, for those Whites who have made their homes in South East Asian countries, or who have come here on holiday, the former burden of rule has now become a different phenomenon entirely. This phenomenon is what I call, with no racism intended, the “White Man’s Curse”.

On the surface of it, it is hard to see how White people, or Orang Putehs, could possibly be cursed. Because of the previous status of Whites in countries like Malaysia, most people like me who live and work here generally get a lot more respect than other members of the population. In many aspects, we are the Shining Ones. We are more likely to be smiled at by beautiful women (and indeed men!), to be treated with consideration in movie theatres, government offices, banks, hotels and in everyday social situations.

People want to know us, ask us where we come from, how long we have lived in Malaysia, do we like the country, do we eat durians, etc etc. I don’t mind these friendly interrogations, for which I have developed a standard patter over the years.

So in most cases, as a White person in Malaysia, I am accorded a certain amount of kudos. This kudos is further reinforced by the fact I have the title ‘Dr.’ in front of my name, and by the fact that I am an Associate Professor in a university. Ranks and titles are important to Malaysians and it is useful to know when to use them both as weapons and as shields.

This of course constitutes a positive kind of “interpersonal apartheid” which would be considered incredibly pretentious and snobbish back in the egalitarian UK. But it has its advantages, which I am not ashamed to say I have enjoyed from time to time.

For instance, I have never been given any trouble by the police when they have stopped me at road blocks. Many people would be asked to get out of the car, show their license, perhaps conduct some business. But the last time the cops stopped me at a roadblock, the Corporal saw my British driving license, my white skin, and my official university parking sticker and waved me on politely.

Also, on the couple of occasions when I have fallen foul of Sarawak’s awkward immigration laws, I have been treated with patience and respect by the Sarawak Immigration Department, asked to pay my fine with a smile and allowed to go on my way without being clapped in handcuffs and made to wait in a lockup.

In fact, I can count on the fingers of one hand the occasions when someone has been rude to me, and even in those cases, some of them were unintentional.

However….

Despite the fact that I have been treated well and given considerable respect in this country, I am not immune from the White Man’s Curse. And that curse is that I will never be able to get discounted prices in any commercial situation I enter into.

For instance, back in Serikin, last weekend, at the market. When we arrived, my wife Annie, niece Inday and sister-in-law Doris deployed our well-rehearsed Anti White Man’s Curse Procedure, which is this: we split up. Annie, Inday and Doris went one way, I went the other. And the simple reason is that if I accompanied them in their hunt for bargains, they wouldn’t get any bargains! All the market traders would see that they were with a White Man, an Orang Puteh, a Buleh (Indonesian for White Man) and that can only mean one thing – they are filthy rich!!

And the discounts would melt away like morning mist.

I personally have always been really bad at bargaining, which is a serious handicap at market places and many shopping centres in Malaysia. I always feel a bit dirty begging some stranger to allow me to pay less money for something I know for a fact was bought from his suppliers at a knockdown price. That’s why I only managed to get five dollars off the price of my Boss bag at Serikin. My wife was amused when I told her that I managed to bargain the man down to RM 90 when, she assured me, I should have asked for RM 60!!

But you see, I am cursed, like all White Men, and indeed White Women. And that is why, whenever we have bought things like electronic goods, cars, furniture, even inquired about house prices, the one to do the talking is my wife. She doesn’t carry the curse, you see, she is immune.

You might ask me if I feel insulted by having the White Man’s Curse? Sure, I do. But as they say in America, it cuts both ways. Being immune to discounted prices for goods and services kind of reinforces your status as a man of substance, among people who believe, quite wrongly, that all Orang Putehs are loaded. So for that reason, and that reason alone, I tolerate my curse and bear it like HIV.

After all, it’s not as if I have much choice, to be honest!