My English Rose

"I Still Call Australia Home" is a song written and performed by Peter Allen in 1980. In it, Allen sings of the expatriate's longing for home.

"I've been to cities that never close down, from New York to Rome and old London town, but no matter how far or how wide I roam, I still call Australia home."

I’ve been travelling a lot ever since I started working in hospitality sales & marketing. Last year was an incredible year of travel. I went to so many places, that I’d wake up in the middle of the night not knowing where I was.

The best thing about my travels is meeting new people. This photo was taken at the World Travel Market in London a few months ago. The beautiful lady besides me works for my resort’s UK representative. Her name is Sue Power. In the few days that I was there, I got to know her very well. So much so that I consider her a friend. I think of her as my English Rose!

I’ve met many wonderful people all over the world, and while Malaysia is what I consider HOME, I’m increasingly getting the feeling that I am becoming a citizen of the world.

Indeed, there are many cities I truly like and love, London, New York, Sydney and Taipei. But in the end, Kuala Lumpur is still the city I call home.

Masks

Masks! I was invited to a fantastic masquerade ball in London late last year. I had a great time! What I enjoyed most was the illusive feeling of not being recognised. Today, I was just thinking about how much we choose to reveal to each other. Are we happy to be totally exposed, or are we in one way or other, hiding behind masks.

I can safely say that no one person truly knows me one hundred percent. The one thing I guard so dearly is my privacy. I only want people to know what I want them to know. I want to be in total control of the information put out there. I many ways, I am a lot like our own media and the media in many of the so called “no freedom of the press” countries.

I am therefore so blown away by people who do not wear masks at all, the same way I am blown away in countries that practice true freedom of the press. But the question still remains. Why do I have to wear a mask?

On very close introspection these last couple of days, I think I have found the answer. To sum it up, I long for acceptance. Today, you see me as a person who’s so comfortable with himself. So secure and content, and most importantly not needing reassurance from anyone!

But the sad truth is, I was not like this in the past. As I went through adolescence, I began to discover so much about myself that simply did not conform to the standards set all around me. My true being was not in sync with my family, religion or country. This used to be the time when I get down on my knees and prayed that I would be more like those “perfect” human beings all around me.

As such, I embarked on a plan to start changing everything about myself that I felt “was not right”. I changed the way I walked, talked even my laugh went through a change. I even consulted doctors and underwent all kinds of procedures to make myself more “acceptable”.

Today, I am still so far from perfect, and I therefore still wear all kinds of different masks to make myself more marketable and acceptable. My masks have worked very well so far. But sometimes, I just wish I could meet someone whom I feel so comfortable with that I can leave my masks behind. What I’m afraid of id the fact that my masks have now fused with my skin and are no longer removable! But I really do not know if this is the case!

My Dad and I

I sometimes wonder about relationships… I’ve had many good ones and a few not so good ones. But these days I’m beginning to think a lot about my relationships with the people who matter most of all; my family.

Friends come and friends may go. Friendship is something that is chosen, but when it comes to family, you really have no choice. You have to love one another whether you like it or not.

Today, I’m going to start with my daddy!

I often try to recall my first memories of him, but I’m not too sure. He was always “going into the jungle” for what seemed like weeks on end. He used to be a land surveyor and worked for the Sabah Land Development Board (SLDB). As such, we were normally stuck in some remote town or village and only had mum for company.

He took us all over Sabah! Pamol, Tawau, Sandakan… I also remember a stint in Miri. But this mostly ended when we started school. Tawau and finally Kota Kinabalu were the cities we stayed in most.

In Tawau, he spent more time with my sisters and I, teaching me things from public speaking and math to setting up a cocoa plantation and to do sales and marketing. I always tried very hard to make him proud though he never seemed to be.

Song for my dad…
I've never been

The one to raise my hand

That was not me

And now that's who I am

Because of youI am standing tall

My heart is full

Of endless gratitude

You were the one

The one to guide me through

Now I can see

And I believe

It's only just beginning

[Chorus:]

This is what we dream about

But the only question with me now

Is do I make you proud

Stronger than I've ever been now

Never been afraid of standing out

Do I make you proud

I guess I've learned

To question is to grow,

That you still have faith,

Is all I need to know,

I've learned to love,

My selfish part of me,

And I've learned to

Walk on the road I believe.

Everybody needs to rise up

Everybody needs to be loved

To be loved

Everybody need to rise on

Everybody needs to be loved,

to be loved

This is what we dream about

But the only question with me now Is do I make you, do I make you proud

This is what we dream about

Never been afraid of standing out

Do I make you proud

Stronger than I've ever been

Never been afraid of standing out Do I make you proud

Do I make you proud

If there is one thing I can safely say I know about my dad is the fact that he has always loved me very much. Even when my mother revealed deep dark secrets about me, it still did not seem to change the way he feels about me. I guess I’m very lucky to have him as my dad!

My Destiny!

Can you tell my race from this photo? Am I Malay, Thai or ...? This is the question people always ask me. They are always puzzled when they notice my name; Brendan Wong. Chinese? No, he can’t be. But then again, the minute I start to speak to them in Mandarin, everything is laid to rest.

Mandarin! If there is one thing that I am grateful to my parents for, it would be the fact that they insisted I go to a Chinese school.

Oh! I did not always feel this way! I grew up in an English speaking home. At the age of seven, I was sent to Primary One in a Chinese school. Tawau’s Sin Hwa Primary. Imagine the horror of being thrown into an environment that was totally alien to me.

I would beg my mum to send me to a national school but she insisted that it was for my own good. I really did not see it that way then. I was an idealistic Malaysian who thought that my destiny lay in this country (tanah tumpah darahku). I naively thought that I was a total citizen and that I only needed to know Malay, and maybe a little English to communicate with those who did not know "my" language. This was way before China had been accepted into the global community and way before communal politics of the Peninsular infiltrated ours. I stupidly thought we were all equal!

Fast forward to this day, the leaders of my country have forced me to accept the fact that I am a Chinese who is a "citizen" of Malaysia and I have to accept “ketuanan” (the mastery) of another race. (I shall not go into this here). I am however so glad I got the basics to accept my destiny of being a global Chinese.

I had six years of Chinese instruction before happily immersing myself into the national secondary school curriculum. If I could turn back time, I would have continued my secondary education in Chinese as well. I’m today re-learning the language of my ancestors. And I am determined to master it. For I am after all, an Overseas Chinese who happens to be Malaysian right now. This is my destiny!

I'm Back!

Boy! I had no idea so much time has passed since my last blog entry! I had all but forgotten that it existed until a friend of mine reminded me of it. So, yes, here I am again.

Today, I was listening to some very old songs and very new ones. Madonna and Mariah Carey have both released new albums. The fact is, I grew up listening to them. They along with Kylie, Debbie, Tiffany and Whitney provided the soundtrack to my life.

Today, I listened to Whitney’s Greatest Hits! You know what? No one else has such an excellent voice as the Whitney of the eighties. Yup! Not even the Whitney of today. It’s sad to see how drugs and booze robbed her of those irreplaceable vocal cords.

I was listening to “the greatest love of all” and it brought back memories of my own short lived singing “career”! Can’t believe I was able to sing! Well, that’s one dream I think I have sort of given up on. I don’t think I am ever going to be an accomplished recording artist now.

It’s funny how our goals and aspirations change with time! Apart from producing an album, I have achieved every other goal an ambition of mine. Now, I only need to put up new goals.
My motto now is simply “to achieve total happiness in everything I do”. To a large extent, I’m living my dream. I now want to change my motto “to make those around me happy”! Difficult! But hey, who’s going to stop me trying?