It's the inside that counts, not the outside.

Angel-A, movie

I watched a really funny episode on 3rd Rock from the Sun a couple of weeks ago. It’s a really funny sitcom about these extraterrestrials that posed like humans and came down to Earth. They called themselves the Solomon--- Dick, Sally, Tommy and Harry.


So one day Dick Solomon went crazy about his identity, you know, the race and ethnic group thingy. So he went like doing a research and stuffs on who are what and what not, and he was wondering what he and his kind is. Dick tried Italian because it was sexy, and Harry was beaten at school for saying that he was a Korean.


In the end, they found out from their landlady (I think), that they were Jewish. Dick Solomon asked her how she knew.

“It’s your name, Solomon.”

She said, and left.

“Who would’ve known that Solomon was a Jewish name? I picked that one up from a truck.”

Dick said, and Tommy went like,

“Imagine this; we could have been the Walmarts.”

********

identity searching. races. ethnic group. skin colour. bullshit. i don't know why, but i think that all of us are pretty much the same. it's just the colour, the eyes, the nose, the physical appearance, that's all. and it's the inside that counts.

Last year we had a Raya celebration for TESL students at some hotels. It was a good one, I looked good, everyone else did. Many turned up for the function, but some didnt. Some refused to. Some because they were broke. Some were, never mind.

I was the emcee for the night. My co-emcee was an Indian girl, Shalini. she's a nice lot. i asked her, do i look alright. and she said i looked beautiful. awwww that was sweet. and i said, you look pretty too, shalu.

then she said it.

"you're supposed to look pretty, Schue. this is an event celebrating you. for you, and your kind. not me."

it never occured to me that Shalu would feel that way, because I never did. because in her tone she sounded like she felt left out. kamon la sista!

Back then at  school I didnt. we had this pre-CNY celebration every year. we had lion dance and a lot of oranges. i never felt like the celebration wasn't mine.

It's saddening, because all along I never realised that we are all different.

I mean,

yes, we may be "different". physically. in the language we speak. in our belief. in our culture. in what is taboo and what is norm. and the list goes on.

but i wouldnt like to think of it as "differences", because you have to compare and contrast to see the differences, and we shouldn't. we shouldnt compare.

It's not differences, it's variations. that's what makes us beautiful.

I am a Minangkabau-Arab-Malay girl with Chindian look. As a toddler I grew up in an Indian family. I spent 13 years of schooling in Chinese school. I speak Mandarine and a little Kantonese. I dated an Indian who looked like Bront Palarae, and another Christian named Christopher George. Simultaneously, haha. I would like to serve in Borneo. Somewhere in Sabah or Sarawak. I would like to date a French one day. I am being ridiculous. I love Malaysia.