GROWING up in Malaysia left me feeling confused for most of my life. I spoke three languages fluently but communicated best in English. This was simultaneously the bane and boon of my existence; at certain times, it’d help me cut across race barriers to relate to friends from different cultural backgrounds but other times, it’d be perceived as the aloofness of being “an outsider”.
It took my first trip back to my country of origin for me to realise that I was truly a Malaysian at heart. I couldn’t wait to return to Malaysia, and one hour after exiting KLIA when I came back, I was at a mamak outlet, wolfing down a delicious packet of nasi lemak washed down with some sweet teh tarik.
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