I knew there was a reason why my face tend to wince just a little when I (am forced to) tell others I'm from Malaysia.
"[The virtual girlfriend in the latest cell phone technology] Vivienne is being reprogrammed not to bare her navel or display body piercings in conservative Muslim countries like Malaysia." -quoted from NYT
What the fudge!! I know it's inevitable that we're called a Muslim country, but conversative?? To the point we can't even handle some bare belly buttons and harmless piercings? Not even on some
bogus, 3D image of a virtual woman?
Knew there was a reason I'd rather keep the exotic undertone of being an international student and not divulge the fact that I'm from a country known more for its sodomizing politicians and technology-savvy pirates than its glowing 'multicultural, multi-racial society'.
Oh and let's not forget the Twin Towers eh. I can still hear the sniggers from those damned obnoxious Americans during the boat ride in Chicago, when we passed by the Sears Tower, supposedly the tallest building in the world till Dr Mahathair told them to stuff it where the sun don't shine, and built the Petronas Twin Towers. But the tour guide persisted that they still have the tallest building, of course; something bout the antennas and bla. Whatever. It's like a grown-up game of 'Look what I've got!' - only it's not as cute when billions of bucks are involved.
But I still miss home. Malaysia is kinda like the terribly faded, hideously black fake Oakley baby-t (from Hattyai, Thai) I have - it's not cool in a lot of senses, but it's just too comfortable and familiar to simply throw away and be done with.
