A Case of Identity

The other day, I had a very engaging conversation with one of my former colleagues. She was depressed because she was unsure about her identity. She is half Chinese and half Iban (one of the component native races of Sarawak), she married a Muslim, converted to Islam, yet is unsure about whether she is Chinese, Muslim, Iban or Martian!

"I just want to be Malaysian!" she exhorted desperately, yet she felt pulled from different directions, all vying to claim her identity for their own. Her Muslim in-laws and friends want her to be a good Muslim. Yet she also feels drawn towards her Chinese roots and culture, but cannot join in totally because she does not speak Chinese!

Now, as a proud Englishman who has never had any doubts about his identity, I find these concerns somewhat petty and insignificant. I just wanted to say to my colleague: "look - you are what you are. You are you. Be comfortable with multiple identities, because it makes you unique. Don't allow others to put you into pigeon-holes" etc etc etc.

But we must remember that Malaysia is a highly multicultural society where the variables of identity - race, gender, age, class, religion, marital status etc - often interact with one another in complex and unexpected ways.

This is especially so if you marry outside your own race, or if you have mixed parentage, as is the case with my ex-colleague. This can result, sometimes, in serious identity problems, which are not trivial lifestyle issues, but which can have long-lasting real world consequences.

This is especially acute here in Sarawak and also in Sabah, where there is a great deal of racial intermarriage compared to the more culturally polarised Malay Peninsula. So it's not a surprise that cultural and racial identity can become profoundly important, and can lead to the kind of angst experienced by my old colleague.

So, all this discussion of race and identity set me thinking about my own case. Now I said I have no problem about my identity, yet sometimes I'm not sure. I know I'm British, specifically English, racially a Caucasian (subject to the White Man's Curse!!) and a Muslim by conversion (anyone who marries a Muslim must become one by law in Malaysia).

I am an Orang Puteh, a Mat Salleh (epithets for Westerners in Malaysia), an Expatriate, a foreigner.....

I am a university academic, a government officer and a Toastmaster. These are my professional identities. So far so good.....

Yet, I have to ask myself why it is that I feel like I don't quite fit in? I increasingly feel that I don't belong here, that my identity as a stranger in a strange land is becoming more and more crystallised.

I think it's because no matter how hard I try, I can never be completely like my local colleagues. Take my official status for example. I work for my university on two year renewable work permits. Every two years, when my contract expires, I have to trundle off to the local immigration department and get a new work permit. Permanent Residence is a possibility, but extremely hard to get - many of my fellow expats have been living here for decades without getting PR.

As a consequence, my status at work is that of a contract worker, albeit a high-status one. I can be, in theory, fired at any time. Another consequence is that when it comes to getting grants for research projects, I cannot be the head of the research team, even though I am the most qualified and experienced.

When there are meetings at work, the meetings are mostly held in the Malay language, even though everyone present knows I am a foreigner. My Malay has never really progressed beyond marketplace level, because there are so few places in Kuching to learn the language. This may be because they expect all foreigners to magically be able to speak Malay as soon as they step off the plane. So this cements my status as The Other even further.

Yet I don't consider myself a typical Expat, and have very little desire to mix socially with my own kind, nor to go back home to England. My experience of British Expats abroad is one of sex, drinking and incessant moaning about the climate and the government, football, cricket etc. I just don't want to hear it. I don't drink, I don't do adultery, I hate football and cricket and I love Malaysia. It pays my wages and it's the country that gave birth to my dear wife, so I don't want to be spending all my time sitting in loud bars listening to my ignorant fellow-expats complaining about it, thank you very much.

So what do I do? I blog, that's what! I observe, comment and try to amuse. And my identity, Prof. Madder, gives me some semblance of sanity whenever I feel lonely and left out. So please keep reading my blog, gentle readers. Help to keep this lost ship close to port, where he can find some safe haven in a turbulent ocean of confused identities!