New Friends!

Final Project: Bar-hopping.

The watering holes of Kuala Lumpur are found in every nook and cranny of the city. For this final project, I was a little apprehensive with wanting to single out any individual to relate their Kuala Lumpur to me. I wasn’t even sure about the way I was going to go about this, if it should be recorded with video, or just the voice, etc. Deadlines are forever looming ahead of us like a thunderstorm that just won’t go away. I’m fickle like that, I do realize.


Anyway, back to the topic. The project required an interview of some sorts with anyone we choose to relate their story of this city to us, either personally, emotionally, historically and I suppose even spiritually. I felt that if I chose a specific person to interview, I might be missing out on all the other stories that I would like to hear as well. And thus, I proposed to “interview” (read: make new friends) different random strangers. In bars. I heard of my classmates’ ideas where they choose to pick one person from their lives and carry that story out. But my perspective of that had to be wider and to be speaking to complete strangers on a regular basis, just so I could have material for my project, is a little frightening, to say the least.


Bar-hopping isn’t a new feature in my life, I enjoy doing so for its socializing benefits, as well as the fact that it continues to fascinate me, how people get so friendly (sometimes, TOO friendly) after a few drinks. They are also a lot more tolerant and open, therefore so much easier to talk to. The intoxication must help in some way. I like how words flow freely when you don’t have barriers to stop you from saying anything. It’s a lack of mental filter or verbal diarrhea if you will. I’ve been in situations where I had drunk people shouting at me, for reasons that can only be known to themselves. It never ends well. I’ve also made countless new friends as one drink leads to another, I hope this continues down the road I am traveling.


My point is, I’ve tried to make this experiment of mine as painless as possible, as anonymous and secretive as I can, only to escape the fact that if I were to let these participants on about what I was doing, it would lose a part of its originality and the passion and pace would be different. I didn’t tell anyone what I was doing, why I was asking all these questions, or maybe I’m just good at evading certain questions. Everyone involved were from different walks of life, age groups, backgrounds, and nationalities. I do try to make it even when it comes to gender. But I’m female, it’s always easier for me to talk to men. Women have a weird radar around me, maybe it’s because I don’t comb my hair. Also, I specifically went to a variety of different bars because it draws a diversity of crowds and I get to pinpoint who will be my next victim.


The parallel lines we tread here are mostly one that allows my new found friends to simply speak their minds about Kuala Lumpur in whichever way they choose to see it. For the most of it, I stuck to what’s real to me and what I think would be real to many others as well. The country in which we live in, relationships and work were my central questions. Many people spoke of the current politics, how it’s remained stagnant, where issues of racism are always at the core of any situation. My interest ignites and wanes very quickly with this particular subject. One person in particular compared this problem to his own country, where communism is the central ruling system. We talked for a long time that night and I ended up with hope alight in my head. I don’t appreciate being disillusioned but realism needs to play his role. We have voices amongst us that cannot be silenced but a solo fighter who speaks out his mind can mean more than just a night in jail or the loss of a job. It’s obvious we have different priorities. I’ve always thought politics was all about money. Clearly, I have been convinced otherwise. Instead of something material, we are ruled by something we can’t even see, the unknown power of a racial struggle. I slip and try to find my footing from time to time because I don’t understand the entirety of it and that somehow, in my small world, the situation is bigger than I am.


Others walk into bars to drown their sorrows with the heavy broken hearts and love songs in the background don’t exactly help make things easier. But they readily pour their hearts out as they pour their drinks in. You get all sorts of love stories, some are made for the silver screen, I kid you not. I sympathize, pat them on the back and reminisce about my love stories, what happened, what’s going on and think about how it’ll be in the future. People get heartbroken everyday and when it happens to you, the world comes crashing down in a split second. When it ends, all you really want is a strong drink or two and sympathetic ears. That’s how it went for me and that’s how I did it for them.

Here’s some interesting quotes, right from the lips of the dejected:

“Life’s fair, everyone gets to have their heart broken at least once.”

“Going straight gets me nowhere, maybe I need to veer off course.”


Where work is concerned, you get office politics and some drama tossed in for good measure. The boss is the boss for a reason, and many a drink has been shared over the cubicle gossip and bars become the after office hours water cooler stand. It’s interesting to hear their stories on a white collar job. Even with minimal perks and plenty of paperwork, there’s still some space left in between to include the spat with the tea-lady or something tedious like that. I stifle many laughs in between, but I’ve yet to experience my first job in a 9-to-5 circle, and I hope for the sake of my sanity and others around me, that I would never have to do so. The closest I can get to matching my own experiences is that while their jobs are the central part of their lives, I would use university and my education to somehow level them together. True, I don’t earn money, neither do I have to work for a living. But experiences with people who backstab and gossip are all a part of life as we live among people. So it is with dull experiences. I don’t go paragliding or skiing every other day, and thus the excitement can only be this much. It is pretty much the same for all our office workers who sit through the rush hour on the Federal highway every working day.


Quite simply, I made them share a little piece of themselves with me, things I’ve always faced on my own in KL. Hearing them from strangers, people I don’t know, people whom I might quite well never meet again makes me feel that little bit better about being here. It’s unfair to say that each story was the same as the next one, but in relation to my life, it’s similar. There are a few people who caught my attention and we have ended up having regular nights out to talk and it’s a good opportunity for me to practice the art of conversation. But others were purely for the purpose of this project.


I'd do this again in a heartbeat.

Liew Kung Yu

Cadangan-cadangan Untuk Negaraku

Liew Kung Yu's 4 piece exhibition at the Galeri Petronas showcases Malaysian culture that is exaggerated through his photographs. His work portrays our nationalism and patriotism to a greater extent. However, because the photographs have been worked upon according to Liew's desires, it has turned into a story of its own.

He names each photograph to suit the elements and the topic at hand. "Bandar Sri Tiang Kolam", "Pantai Gelora Cahaya", "Metropolis Warisan" and "Konkrit Jungle" are the names of the 4 artworks. Each one has a gold frame, symbolizing our materialistic wants and it overlaps at certain angles. There are also red hibiscus flowers surrounding the photographs, a further significance of our culture as it is our national flower.

The photograph entitled "Bandar Sri Tiang Kolam" is emboldened with roman columns everywhere, relating this to a "Malay" appeal as it is often seen in many houses, regardless of their style or design as they are all about the residents of Malaysia. Government buildings fancy these roman columns too, a little strange attachment that appear to be powerful. The obsession with a greater respect for the white man shows here in these roman columns. Asians are generally known to put the white man on a pedestal, along with everything else that is considered "western". "Pantai Gelora Cahaya" on the other hand represents the tourism industry revolving a rainbow theme featuring a rickshaw, a symbol of our economic struggle in previous years and has now become an attraction and a means to earn some pocket money.

"Metropolis Warisan" is a confusing display of batik and the use of public transportation in our country. Needless to say, the system and the upkeep are appalling and to draw attention to this is of an utmost personal priority. Buildings become landmarks of this photograph with a few tourists around the city centre looking lost. Translated to English, it means a metropolis that is a heritage. This goes to show that we are inheriting a city and a history of haphazard city planning with only short term solutions for problems. Finally, "Konkrit Jungle" displays animals local to Asia. However, this is a symbolic representation and comparison between our community and the animals, more likely to represent our behaviour in society.

Persepolis

This has been sitting in my drafts for the LONGEST time.
Initially I wanted to interview a few Iranian friends about their views on politics in their country, so that I could try to find some sort of common ground. It is mainly to compare what our views are about the country we grew up in.

Watching an animated film when it is about violence, nationalism and the personal story of a citizen in Iran adds certain complexities for the audience. On one hand, I am trying to take it in seriously as a true story. On the other, the animation downplayed much of the intensity and replaced it with images that are not quite real to me. It was lacking some rawness to the entire film. Comic relief is provided throughout the film and I appreciate this perspective as well.

However, that is not the only point I will make about Persepolis. I found Marjane Satrapi’s point of view refreshing, to grow up in the heart of political turmoil as a young girl, with influences that are close to her heart. But it is also honest, because there was a point in her life when she strayed away from all that she had learnt. The many phases of her life shed light on the life of an individual. Growing up as a teenager both at home and abroad, experiencing a different culture as compared to her own, the scarf that draws the spotlight on her and other events become central to her life.

The interrelated text between politics and all other themes are connected closely within the film. The central theme of the autobiography holds a serious note throughout the animated film. However I personally feel that because it is animated, it downplays much of the "real" tension within the subject. Even so, comic relief is provided and I appreciate this perspective.

It does not lose any of its ideas and questions that are presented to Iranians and the rest of the world because the crux of this autobiography is how we view Iran as outsiders and how Iranians view Iran. The comparison is great and also the way the media portrays Iran. We are often misled to believe the media and all it says

The portrayal of a country and its ideals alongside the government with a chaotic undercurrent where the struggle for power would continue to exist within the frame of society, regardless of which country we may be living in. We are given an invitation into Satrapi’s life, her internal struggles and personal turmoil when it come to dealing with family, love, friendship, education and amidst all that, politics were at the center of everything.

In relation to the film and also other articles that have made their comment on the Islam world and its views, I find that it is often unfair for the Muslims, for the fact that they have to defend their faith constantly against those who condemn it. The judgment passed onto the rest of them for the wrong doings of a few are absolutely uncalled for.

Pecah Lobang

In my lame effort to make up for missing out on "Our Burmese Days" that was shown in class during my absenteeism, I will review a documentary I watched during the KLPac Urbanscapes event earlier this year. Indicine at KLPac had always shown different genres of films and I would actually attend a screening from time to time, even if it wasn't on a regular basis.


Ahem, I have digressed enough. My point is, this particular documentary caught me in a thorny position of sorts. A taboo, touchy subject in Malaysia, a country whom most of us would agree, is a place that can be as open and warm one minute and as cold as ice in the next. It really would depend on what we are talking about. There are sore wounds out there tonight in the streets of KL, I hope they feel better when they watch this amazing film because to be absolutely frank, I felt for them.


"Pecah Lobang" directed by Poh Si Teng, features Muslim transsexual sex workers in Malaysia. In particular, she focused the documentary around the life of one person who relates the community as a whole and the difficulties they face in every day situations as well as being a Malaysia. To me, I found it complicated that we give ourselves definitions after definitions after definitions. Must it be as such? Of course, I will be amongst the first to disagree that we are individuals and to be an individual, thus we require clarity to prove ourselves amongst society and its many individuals. But to be exact, it is a tremendous task.


The Muslim/Transsexual/Sex Worker/Malaysian. We get four different distinctions of what it's like to be the main character in the documentary. I was torn watching her, when she explains her life, her role, her job, her struggle both internal and external. WHY. The question is why are we forced to separate our multitude of alter-egos in the face of "taboo" and "law" and discrimination. I am lost in my own thoughts about how she must feel every single morning as she wakes up to a country of people who take her as someone who shouldn't exist. I strongly believe she has made her choice in terms of lifestyle, because quite simply there is no other way to go about this situation.


Throughout the entire documentary, she shed tears on the legal difficulties that she had to endure, and apparently at the time of filming, it was on-going. The issue of changing the gender from "male" to "female" is opposed by the government, also with the fact that the character is Muslim, therefore religious matters come into play. Being a sex worker is something that leaves her with no other options because people simply won't hire you, on whatever reasons they may have. i feel so angry for her, for people like her, for people who don't understand her, for the way our society is run, the way our thoughts are structured to be. perhaps all my angst is for nothing, because in a way, i can do nothing. you can only change if you want to.


Is the refusal to accept the laws of society are we considered rebels to be prosecuted against? I just want my rights, to be heard and seen, because everyone’s opinion should matter. Not just the ruling government who gives clockwork instructions.

The Big Durian

Racial issues are always the crux of our Malaysian culture. We like to talk about our various differences, who earns more money, who wears nicer clothes etc. How did the incident of Private Adam went amok at the beginning of the film turn into something that runs deeper within our nationalistic pride and notion of racial unity?


I like how Amir Muhammad used different people of different RACES to tell the one story of a man who started shooting in Chow Kit one night in October. It translates to the psychological warfare (I understand this phrase now, because I feel cheated. More on this later.) that is being played on us. Why, are we simple minded creatures who should follow like sheep in a herd? Fear remains the strongest factor as to why so many of us prefer to “cari makan” and close the chapter as it was right there. We do not want to interfere with things that we assume we can’t make a difference in.


I wish I understood this all earlier. Watching this documentary made me feel a tad stupider simply because the ignorant idiot in me has been clouded, shrouded, lied to, I feel CHEATED! In reference to my elders, I feel absolutely cheated. Each time I asked why such things happen in our country, they are ignorant as I was. “It’s the Malays who started it! Look, it’s in Kampung Baru! That’s the Malay area!” Why the difference between you and I, when the common ground does not lie with race, but with your nationality.


Why the racial issue will never end, only because we let it consume us from previous events. We are all the same, nothing but the same. We bleed red blood underneath all those different skins we live in. I don’t want to ask for anything more than the truth. It’s gruesome how we are so easily brainwashed by people of a hierarchy that cannot be breached. But after such passion, is it wise to remain defiant in the face of terror that strikes you in the core of your soul? There are resounding voices, encouraging us to go on and to never ever give up without a fight.


Farish Noor put it right, we elected these people for a reason. We wanted them to LEAD us in the right path. The majority elects the minority so that the minority may have the power to govern the country. What is the point, may I ask, if we appoint the repeated mistakes to head our country? To see change, you must make change. Certain parts of the documentary terrified me, the Star publications of those who were arrested was one of them. It scared me because at this time and age, ISA is already thought of as a system that works against the democracy ruling. And to think ISA existed in a time and age where people my age were not even born yet, and here we are, 20 years down the road and it’s still the same thing that’s been happening. Why? Because we let it happen.


It never surprised me that whilst some publications were closed down, while some prominent opposition party members were arrested, the ruling party had hardly anyone who stuck their foot out into the mud. Justice and peace has a long way to go before it finally reaches Malaysia. It hurt quite a bit seeing how some of are affected by it all, whereas the rest of us can’t be bothered. Why are we not bothered about what’s happening in our own country? This is a place I want to call home, I want to call it home and mean it. It’s a sack of empty words and empty promises by the very same people we elect, year in year out. It’s disheartening and lowers our morale in general.


I hope we can change, together.

i have strange memories of alice in wonderland and the wizard of oz
i don't quite know how to put it in words so that you may understand what their significance is to me. maybe they don't even mean anything more to me than just stories that i enjoy reading. but i think it runs deeper than that. the yellow brick road and those red shoes, cheshire cat and the tea party, it boggles me when i dream about it all.
entirely vivid and real, in HD colour and all that stars and stripes


i wish i was stronger than this, i keep falling to where i can't fix what went wrong
and each time i go into that dark place, i can't help thinking "what's there to stop history from repeating itself?"

perhaps secretly, i like to be hurt.