Into the World:
The Random Thoughts in My Mind

Having a quick chat with my Iranian landlord regarding the tripartite racial divisions here in Malaysia , he remarked that the Malays and Indians here are much more welcoming of foreigners and all around more open, warm, and friendly than the ethnic Chinese here.  Two weeks into my life here at Kuala Lumpur, and despite being ethnic Chinese myself, I am becoming more and more inclined to agree with him (and many other foreign expats I come across at work) that this notion is indeed true.  The Chinese here really are less friendly than the other two races.

"So, do you get paid in Ringgits or Euros?" a coworker casually asked over a quick lunch at the local hawker stand outside the office building.  The nonchalant air he tried to project as he suddenly blurted out the question betray a damning curiosity that is nothing but nonchalant.  Indirectly, he just spoke volumes about the internal division within the company: the difference between foreigners and locals working in the German company here in the remote corner of Kuala Lumpur is not simply a matter of skin color and national origin, it is a matter of financial status that could have deep ramifications.

"Multicultural Asia," for someone who has never been outside East Asia, is largely an oxymoron and impossibility.  Even the most cultural diverse in the region, China, has no real diversity to speak off.  Minorities languish in the political, economic, and obviously demographic dominance of the Han Chinese, who has made assimilation an ultimate goal in creating a stable society.  And then, an East Asian who shows up to Malaysia is simply dazzled, amazed by how the Malays, the Chinese, and the Indians have together carved out a truly multiethnic country where no one is more foreign than the other.

While the overseas Chinese sites and commentators have been abuzz with videos, pictures, and stories remembering that fateful day 23 years ago, there was an eerie silence on the Chinese blogosphere, punctuated by short bursts of coded messages with indirect references.  Most of them disappear from cyberspace in matter of minutes, thanks to extra-diligent monitoring by relevant personnel at the various mainland-based social networking sites, but the few that avoid their meticulous reviews of new contents then go on to ignite a viral round of coded reply before the whole thread disappears.

"Queen Elizabeth II, 1952-2012," various signs across Her Majesty's great capital city proclaims.  Patriotism, so uncommonly seen physically here on the British Isles, seems to be at an all-time high on this weekend, with British flags and other related goods sold in shops across the city, just in time for people to celebrate Her Majesty's 60 years of reign by attending a boat parade on the Thames River this Sunday (i.e. tomorrow).  The uninhibited adoration that the Crown receive from both the British and foreign residents, at least here in London, seems unanimous.

Walking through the LSE library during the exam study period can be an experience in itself. Students, sitting quietly in their reserved desks and tables , seem to have not moved from that exact position in days. Behind piles of books, printed documents, and empty cans of Red Bull are sometimes near non-human-like red eyes, accentuated by the unnatural puffiness of their darkened skin beneath them. Sometimes, close-distance observation is not even needed for knowing that they have been in the same spot for a long, long time...one simply has to open one's nostrils to the bodily scents emitted in the area...