adelaidemedblog

Maybe it’s not a good idea, forcing the words… but I’ll try anyway…

It is more likely that if you are of a non-mainstream culture and you have a mainstream element in your make-up, you will be self-conscious about those parts of you which are dissimilar to mainstream people and therefore have a tendency to by shy. The probability that someone will be shy is directly proportional to the quantification, in x terms, of difference to those around him, or her.

Malaysian people will always be funny because of their accent. I will always consider as an unfair advantage, seriously. But what I find most perplexing is that Malaysian people seem to find their own accent just as funny as I find it. I mean, try to explain the existence of Phua Chu Kang without acknowledging this oddity. I do not find the Australian accent funny at all, except then it is parodied in Kath and Kim, and in that case I do not have that Australian accent. In the case of PCK, I can tell that the accent is not a parody, because I frequently will hear people talking like that in real life, and nobody is laughing (although that is beside the point). In a room full of Malaysians, I will feel the most strange. I am Malaysian. Yet, I have a non-Malaysian accent. This makes me feel very, very strange. I am inherently embarrassed about my own voice, and upon hearing it will try to reduce its sound, usually by lowering the volume. This is called being shy. This is one of the things I think may happen less if one is born in the “proper” country, i.e. has the ability to be surrounded by people who look like them. Adelaide doesn’t have enough ABC’s, yet, I guess.

Just a few months ago was a time when I had a still vivid conversation with G about matters of life, death, and the new life in between. The lives which my children live are important to me. If I were to recycle this cardboard milk carton now, would it save one more tree in the future? Perhaps I should empty the bin into the green bin instead of changing plastic bags and wasting a plastic bag and creating a bigger mess for landfills. It’s all just vegetable ends, anyway. I wonder about this policy of using every single return slip printed off for library books borrowed for “to do” notes, though. G could use a tidier desk sometimes. Perhaps if I ride my bike daily, I’ll save money, but more importantly, I’ll reduce greenhouse gas emissions by x amount by the time I’ve ridden y times. And get fitter. And lose weight. And look better. Turning on as few lights as possible at home is a golden rule, but these new energy saving light bulbs are a subterfuge in a socket. If I keep on turning one off, I’m supposedly damaging the circuitry via the minute overloads that starting current induces, therefore leaving it on may in fact save power, money, and the earth, as it only consumes z watts per hour. One can only hope all this zaniness is completely well-intentioned. For the children, I offer.

The other question that G raised was of education. Education in Australia is particularly lazy, doubtless because of the relatively few students who take exams here, and therefore the non-existant competition. Population causes many things, not the least of which a transformation of education systems and the children which they produce. One good thing about schooling in some parts of China is the amount of work performed, per hour, in the classroom, and the number of free hours at home. That is, the second variable would be close to zero, in some cases. There’s a certain significance surrounding the education of a young child - the instilling of consequential values, the building of a noble character. Though I don’t pretend to understand how the way I was taught when I went to kindergarten/primary school has affected how I am now, it was certainly important. And I haven’t forgotten about the rearing at home. But how is this part, in particular, possible in an environment where kindness is not the exception, but the rule? The most desirable part about Asian schooling is a decidedly hard work ethic. Hard, as an adjective, is not the 3, or even 5 hour per night workload on a final year high school student. Rather, it is a 5, or 6 hour per night workload on the student who starts school at 7:10am, finishes at 6pm, goes to school for Saturday and Sundays, albeit half days, and is the age equivalent of year 8. I would like my child to be able to work that hard. Though I must admit, the wrote part of that learning still bothers me. And G ain’t too hot with the study time, even with all that torture behind her.

As an aside: let me presume that M, and W, have gotten together. Their children may go to the same school as ours may. I wonder if this will happen, really. Let this blog record my first prediction for the future. In this case, I may be compelled not to move away from Australia, after all.