Questa è Enida

I wish I could just sit down and write like this. I wish I could just write what I think with no care in the world. Whatever crosses my much too often too careful mind. I wish I could just be myself in this country I (so) call home. I wish I didn’t have to care too much about what could or would come out from what I wish I could write. I wish I could say it in a much simpler way than this. Like I wish it were much simpler than this.

But I am no liar.

I cannot tell you that life in Malaysia is a simple one. Simple as in…people get out of bed, get to work, earn a living, get off of work, get home, and voila! Time to get to bed again. It looks so much that way, though. Yes, it does. But I tell you, it’s not as simple as you might see or think. People do have a ‘life’ here. And most of them live their lives just to fight for EVERY thing. Yes, fight. Fight as in…berebut! [Rush!]

They berebut to get to work as though they loved their jobs like they loved their lives (not). They berebut to get food during lunch hour as if the food court were going to simply disappear if they didn’t scoop up the lauk in 0.274 second per tray. They berebut naik elevator without waiting for people to get out first, as though the elevator were going to take off like a rocket in a blink of an eye.

They berebut to get home from work, hence they berebut driving on the road like they were going to drown themselves in their own cirit right there in their vehicle. Trust me, I have seen a crazy friend drive like a mad chicken because of his “seru”. It was a do-or-die(rrhea) kamikaze type of driving. And so people berebut to go places. I sometimes wish roads were like a conveyer belt. Nobody passes anybody. You wait for your turn, and you get there when you get there.

I wish I didn’t have to believe that people berebut to get rich fast. But people do. And those who don’t…simply have to berebut jugak only to get by. That’s just the way it is here and that’s just the way it is. I wish it were otherwise, like I wish I didn’t have to ikut berebut sama. And so I don’t berebut. But then again, I have to still berebut to go the other way. In other words, I have to fight to NOT fight.

Just like we have to go to war for peace?

If God had a head…He would be shaking it in sorrow.
Ho mal di pensiero!