At the Eastern Transit

There’s always been a big rustling of pride for Melbourne’s sense of patriotism. I wonder how much truth there is to that when I see villainous acts of racism citing these very (and supposedly) celebrated groups. True, eating a bowl of pho and spaghetti bolognaise seems nothing extraordinary (a point I regularly raise) here in this fine old city, but as a cultural center for all of Australia, to argue that Australia as a whole is multicultural begs a finer question, what is multicultural about the rest of Australia? Sure, the capital cities boast varying degrees of multiculturism, but out in the countryside you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone not of a Caucasian background.

Directly below the Asian continent has always hinted at the possibility of Australia being considered as an Asian country, but really our history looks more ‘white’ than anything. We like most countries in the world are constantly re-evaluating our self identity as a nation and attempting to define ourselves once more. From White Australia to multicultural Australia is still a gigantic leap no matter how much such has been reiterated.

I have always wondered as such what would happen if we were to draw our links more to Asia? I mean, after all we are apparently entering the Asian century. By relying more on Asia, are we committing ourselves to become more Asian? Whatever that means, the thought process proves to be an intriguing one that likens my thoughts to a million languages being spoken by everyone here, a thought that understandably makes me drool with euphoria. As an Asian-Australian, there is no surprise that I am all for becoming one with Asia, which makes me all the more interested in finding employment that draws these links closer. Now the question through the wide variety of jobs to choose from is actually choosing a job. That is the hard part, the fun part is seeing the results.

Indeed, maybe we are more Asian than we realise.

“I would not even dare say Jap” said my friend. She was a little bit nerdy looking, veering onto hipster that look oh so like Daria,

I paused for a moment surprised.

“In my school, that would be normal to say!” I replied.

I realised then and there the barriers we lived in even in the small city of Melbourne.

My friend later went on discussing how “white” her school was and the phobia in discussing such topics as race.

It made me think.

You know, I once had a friend who got called out at being racist for describing two guys as being Asian and white. To me it had always been about the intention of the words used, this way it dictates if something is racist or not.

But I realise now how unexposed those kids were, I realise too now how different my world was growing up in a lower to middle class neighbourhood full of refugees.

It explains why I find it so hard to connect with many of the caucasians in my university course doing an Arts degree, after all they came from a more sustained background. I remember trying so hard to be part of their group and be accepted by them, only to realise I could not connect at all.

I would be the token Asian, that and they would look at me in fear if I made a joke about being Asian. They would not understand my rampant sarcasm that was more constant than they thought possible. Little things I did not realise I could not understand. Little things I did not realise they could not understand.

Maybe that is why I want to go to Asia. It’s more than reconnecting with my own roots. It is to reconnect with people and feel like I am not alone. We humans need connection, emotional and physical connection and here in Melbourne I lack that. I will fly away.

But what the fuck is with this self racism so many of us Asian-Australians have against other “fobs”? Firstly most of our parents are “fobs” themselves? How about you fucking try to move to another country to study in a language not like your own and see how you fare?!?? Try being able to speak several languages fluently and coherently?!? How about you understand where the other person is coming from?!?

You know I was once just as close minded. But after working with some of the amazing people I work with I have realised that these people often have more courage and tenacity than many of us. They challenge themselves and get out there more than any of us. They have the determination that many of us lack. So here’s something new for a change, respect them! PS. I’ve partied with them too. Let me tell you, they party harder. C’mon now!

I remember when I was young I hated being Asian. I drew faces, blonde hair and blue eyes in the idea that I saw that as beautiful. I saw myself as some badly colored version. I did not have much to look at that screamed, “You are actually quite normal”. Why couldn’t I look like everybody else? Everyone else was tall, they spoke loudly while I stood there beneath the masses as another token Asian. I wanted to be Australian so badly, just to fit in and not look like an outcast. I was born in the country but that made me feel no less insecure about this body I was trapped in.

I was not happy to have different food at lunch breaks, so much so I complained and my mother complied and made me sandwiches. I still stole the muesli bars that the other kids had.

I would be spoken to in Teochew. Yet I’d be told I’m Cambodian. I felt too fake to be Cambodian and anyways, everyone else was too busy yelling “Chinese small eyes” at me for me to notice anything good around me. That or they asked me if I was Jackie Chan or Bruce Lee, then proceed to ask me to do a high kick. Sometimes I did.

It takes a long time to really realise.

I’m Australian, but I certainly do not look like it. Man, I wish sometimes my parents could just have a chat to me like what the white kids get. I’m Cambodian but I have no blood that specifies that. I’m Chinese but that was 70 years back at least. I’m somebody still trying to figure out myself. Somebody I want to know. This world is still as mucked up as it was when I first stepped into those primary school grounds. I can’t say I miss much.