M A C V A Y S I A

Those who have been reading my blog for a few years now might remember that back in 2007 I wrote a post calling out Malaysia’s Information Minister for things he had said about children of mixed parentage. Basically, the Minister at the time, Zainudin Maidin (aka ZAM), didn’t want to see such children in local advertising because they’re “not Malaysians”. The post I wrote in response to his ridiculous remarks generated a lot of comments; in fact, while there were posts in my old Blogspot days that had generated more (unfortunately those comments have been swallowed by the Internet), that particular post remains the most commented post since my switch to Wordpress. Most of the comments were equally critical of ZAM, but some displayed racism that matched and perhaps even surpassed the things he’d said.

Well, how have things progressed in the nearly three years since then? The Information Ministry has been merged with the former Culture, Arts and Heritage Ministry to form the Information Communication and Culture Ministry (which can’t seem to decide whether it wants a comma after the word Information). The new Minister, Rais Yatim, who thinks Malaysians’ use of the Internet, social media, and ‘bahasa rojak’ (the mixing of Malay and English in daily speech) are all very bad things, is unfortunately no less an embarrassment to the country than ZAM was. And unfortunately Rais is no less racist.

Recently that bastion of Malay nationalist journalism, Utusan Malaysia, front-paged an article in which Rais made comments about mixed marriages, in response to a question about the marital troubles of Malaysian actress Maya Karin. Now before we move on to Rais himself, let’s all shake our heads at the fact that Utusan chose to put that as its lead article that day, and that the paper had even seen fit to ask Rais to comment on something which was none of their business, and certainly none of his. Shame on them.

Now, on to Rais. Like I said, what happens in Maya Karin’s marriage is really none of his business. Yet there he was, using the question to deliver a little rant about the perils of entering into a marriage with someone of another race and/or nationality. Not only that, he singled out westerners, particularly white westerners. As Utusan is a government mouthpiece, it’s unlikely they just asked him about this out of the blue and he was simply giving his opinion on the spot. When asked about the matter, Rais didn’t just give his opinion; he backed it up with results of a study undertaken by local sociologists in which it was found that seven out of every ten mixed marriages end in divorce.

Well, I have some big problems with not only what Rais said, but in the so-called evidence he put forth to back up his claims. First off, let me state that I’m not saying mixed marriages are all fine and dandy. There are bound to be divorces. Just as I didn’t completely disagree with ZAM’s criticism of the prevalence of so-called mixed-race actors in local advertising, I don’t completely disagree with Rais’ assertion that mixed marriages will fail at a higher rate than marriages between people who are from the same race/ethnic group/country. But having said that, I have big problems with what he said anyway, just like I had big problems with what ZAM said. Aside from what I’ve already mentioned, here’s where Rais went wrong:

The study he referred to is outdated. According to the Utusan article, the figure of only three successful marriages out of ten is based on research that covered only the years 1995 to 1998. That was 12 to 15 years ago. Not only is the research outdated, it wasn’t done long enough for researchers to come to any reliable conclusion.

The geographical scope of the study was even more limited than the temporal scope. It seems Rais was only referring to marriages in the state of Johor and the federal territory of Kuala Lumpur. That’s a very insufficient sample.

‘Artistes’ are hardly representative of the general public. Everyone knows actors and singing stars generally go through spouses like Planters goes through peanuts. I’ll be the first to admit I have no hard statistics to offer up in support of my claim here, but I daresay this is the case in many countries, not just in the west. In pointing to failed marriages among Malaysian celebrities as proof that mixed marriages don’t work, Rais is really barking up the wrong tree. Sure, the study he’s relying on involves more than just celebrities, but highlighting them at all to prove his point is pretty silly.

He’s almost right, but completely wrong. I’ve long said that marriages between Malays and non-Malays can only work if both partners have similar ideas about religion and culture. Rais is saying the same thing, but I think he overstates the number of cases in which this doesn’t happen. Of course, considering the shortcomings of the study he uses to back that up, it’s almost impossible to say. So how can I say he’s wrong? Because since Leen and I moved to Malaysia from Canada we’ve come to know many couples in similar situations to our own. We have indeed met couples whose marriages were a bit rocky, and people whose mixed marriages had already ended. But those were the exceptions. Most mixed couples we’ve met were happily married at the time and remain so today. Sure, some of them will fail, but that is the case with all marriages. Actually, there may be higher rates of divorce with mixed marriages, but…well, see below.

For someone who doesn’t like things that are mixed, he’s sure got this mixed up. Rais actually acknowledges that one of the factors in the failure of mixed marriages is the difficulty foreign spouses — especially foreign husbands — have as immigrants in this country. He even acknowledges this is all due to rigid government policies. But here’s the thing: instead of saying Malaysians should avoid marrying foreigners because the government he’s a part of makes it difficult for them to live and work here, wouldn’t it be better for the government to actually make it easier for foreign spouses to live and work here? Oh, wait…

Rais is out of touch with current events and trends. The Malaysian government is, in fact, beginning to make it easier for foreign spouses to live and work in Malaysia. The government recently announced it would give Permanent Resident status to foreign husbands, something Malaysian women and their foreign-born husbands have long been hoping for (read here for my latest update on that). The advice Rais is doling out to Malaysians reflects either complete ignorance of his own government’s initiatives, or an unwillingness to accept them. Either way, Rais Yatim is not doing his job properly.

Just the other night I watched an interview Rais gave on TV3 and was treated to further proof that he 1) has a real dislike for westerners and their culture, and 2) is unfit to lead a government ministry. While he did make some valid points (advocating more parental guidance in children’s use of the Internet, for example), most of his comments were absolutely sickening. His skeptical comments about the Internet and social media were nothing new (he’s been saying those things for a while now, resulting in a hilarious backlash by Malaysian Twitter users and bloggers), but I have to admit I was taken aback by what he said about language. That was nothing new either (his preference for the Malay language was quite evident when he once arrogantly scolded a journalist for daring to ask him a question in English not long ago), but he somehow outdid himself this time.

When asked to comment on bahasa rojak (basically ‘mixed language’), Rais really made himself look foolish. Remember I said he doesn’t like things that are mixed? Well, here’s the proof. He looks back on a time when the Malay language — the Johor-Riau dialect, to be more precise — was untouched by other languages. Let’s put aside how ignorant that very idea is in and of itself (I mean come on, he thinks the Johor-Riau dialect was not itself a hybrid of various smaller local dialects, and that it wasn’t influenced at all by other languages? Seriously?). Let’s look at what he said next: He actually lamented the fact that there came a time (a long, long time ago in fact) when the pure, precious Malay language was poisoned by other languages. Yes, that’s what he said. He used the word diracuni — poisoned. This is what he thinks of the influence of other languages on the Johor-Riau dialect of Malay. He displayed a particularly sneering contempt of the English language and the growing tendency of Malaysians to inject it into their everyday speech. He made it clear that Malaysians who speak in Malay should not mix words from other languages into it.

Let’s not even get into the fact that it’s pretty much impossible to speak Malay these days without using at least some English loanwords. Let’s just look at the basic thrust of what Rais was saying. It is painfully obvious that the Minister of Information Communication and Culture harbours unrealistic fantasies of linguistic and cultural purity. It is also obvious that because of these delusions he is out of touch with the realities of language and culture. He is out of touch with the way this country’s national language and its culture are heading. He is even out of touch with the direction in which the government he is a part of appears to be heading, or at least claims to be heading. He is, therefore, unfit to occupy the post he now occupies.

Now, I can express my personal opinion all I want — that Rais should either resign or the Prime Minister should put him out to pasture — but I’m not Malaysian, so who am I to even suggest what the Malaysian government should do? In fact, it seems Malaysians who support the current government don’t take too kindly to foreigners telling that government what it should and shouldn’t do. Well you know what? Anyone who would rub that in my face now can just stuff it. When a Malaysian government minister uses his position to make bigoted comments about mixed marriages and/or mixed-race children, it concerns me because it concerns my wife and children. The sensitivities of Malaysians who dislike the intervention of foreigners into their affairs are duly noted, but the current government should bear in mind that while I can’t vote here, my wife can; our children, if they decide to stay here into adulthood, will be voters too. So will the spouses and children of a lot of foreigners in this country — maybe a lot more than Rais can imagine. And we’re not just talking about foreigners here. We’re talking about anyone who marries and has children out of their so-called race. Does Rais Yatim really think that he or anyone else in this country is “pure”? Please.

Just imagine if Malaysians actually follow the advice of their Minister of Information Communication and Culture. They might take his ’stick to your own kind’ rhetoric too far. Why, we might end up seeing disturbingly high numbers of incest cases among rural Mal…oh, wait a minute. I guess Rais should really be careful what he wishes for. And the people of Malaysia should be careful who they vote for.

I finally received an official response from RHB Bank today (for background read this, and this, and this). Here’s what they said:

We thank you on highlighting the above incident to our En Mohamad Zaihan on 29 January 2009.
We took note that your wife as a passenger had an unpleasant encounter in the above incident. In such cases, please note that as governed by the Banking and Financial Institution Act, the Bank is not in the position to divulge any information to you. Rest assured that the matter is being handled tactfully in the most appropriate manner.
Once again, we thank you for bringing up this issue to our attention. We empathized with your wife for the discomfort and inconvenience caused. We believe it is not the intention of our panel repossessor to cause any anxiety.

Here’s the response I sent back to them:

Thanks for finally getting back to me. I hope your statement that “the matter is being handled tactfully in the most appropriate manner” means you’ll be giving a written apology to my wife for what the car repossessor did and acknowledging that his actions were wrong. I also hope you don’t think I buy the part about the repossessor not wanting to cause anxiety. You can’t carjack someone without causing anxiety. Let me be very clear on this: the incident we’re all talking about here (the one you are not in a position to divulge information to me about) was a carjacking, albeit one that appears to fall within some sort of legal grey area (I’m assuming this because the police haven’t charged anyone). You can’t carjack someone and then be surprised and dismayed that the people who were carjacked feel traumatised. It’s disappointing that RHB Bank is standing by the repossessor in this case. What you’re saying here is that RHB approves of the way in which the car was repossessed. Why bother putting a copy of the Code of Ethics on Repossession on your website, then, if it’s meaningless?

I feel RHB Bank’s response here is inadequate and inappropriate. My wife and I will be sure to follow up on this with the appropriate authorities.

If my response seems a little angry, it’s because I’m angry.

I’m not a big fan of the Royal Malaysian Police. As far as I know, none of the police reports I’ve made since coming to Malaysia have resulted in anything resembling a thorough investigation; no one I’ve ever made a report against has ever been held accountable for whatever it was they had done. I’ve even had run-ins with the police myself: one off-duty officer nearly killed me when he acted as if a one-lane road had two lanes, then pulled me over when I gave him the finger; one time an officer who was directing traffic watched a motorcycle cut in front of me and run into me, then told the motorcyclist to continue on his way and told me he didn’t care about me or my car. Then there’s all the bribery. I don’t think I need to point out that Malaysian police officers will often take (and ask for) bribes. We’ve all seen it.

Yet I was glad to see news recently that officers of the Royal Malaysian Police will be getting a raise. Yes, believe it or not, I think they deserve more money. I think if Malaysian cops made more money, they might (and hopefully would) become more professional. Or, to put it another way: a pay raise would be one of just many steps the government could take towards making the Royal Malaysian Police a better police force.

The response to that statement is almost always the same: Even if they’re paid more, people told me, Malaysian cops will be corrupt. Do I really believe cops here would stop asking for bribes if they were paid more? No, I don’t. I understand it will take some time to eradicated corruption in the Royal Malaysian Police, because it’s deeply ingrained in the culture here and isn’t just caused by low pay. But I really do believe paying Malaysian cops more money will help. They’re currently getting what to me seems like the equivalent of what I made when I was working as a security guard on the Halifax waterfront. Except for one overzealous guard, who had a tricked-out utility belt and a badge and desperately wanted to be a cop but kept getting rejected, pretty much everyone who worked for that company did the barest minimum of work that was required of them. Why? Because they were all getting paid minimum wage. The boss paid them the least he was required to pay, so they all gave the least amount of effort (when I say they I mean we, of course). Even the wannabe cop finally cracked and was arrested for breaking into a shop on his watch and stealing clothes.

When I was working as a security guard back in those lean times, I didn’t think I was getting paid nearly enough to deal with drunks, shoplifters, panhandlers, and the occasional rowdy pub-goer. There was even an armed robbery once on the property I was guarding, but I wasn’t about to chase a guy with a gun. Not for the crap money I was making. That’s a job for real cops. They have weapons, they have training, and they have a sense of pride in what they do. Malaysian cops, it seems to me, have only two of those three things (and only barely so, I might add). They face the same dangers as cops back home — even worse dangers, I think, considering how much violent crime we have here — but they don’t even come close to displaying the same professionalism. It’s not a stretch to think their low salaries might have something to do with that. No, they wouldn’t all suddenly become better cops if they were paid more. But I really do think higher salaries would lead to a rise in professionalism, or would at least be part of any sincere effort to improve policing here.

My father with a new police car in 1978.

My father is a retired police officer. He served for over 20 years with the Sydney Police Department (now known as the Cape Breton Regional Police Services), first as a beat cop and then as a member of the ‘Ident’ section (basically, Dad was a CSI). My best buddy from high school is currently a member of the force. I thought about becoming a police officer myself, long ago, as did my brother. It’s a job people want to do, and one they’re proud to do. Cops back home make decent money. It’s not that they do their job well just because they’re paid good money. They’re paid good money because of the work they do, and because of what’s expected of them. There are lots of good police forces in Canada, including the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, which to me seems as different from its Malaysian counterpart as day is from night.

The MacVay boys, Officers Mopey & Dopey.

Malaysia has a lot of cops who don’t do their jobs very well, but there must be cops here who do. Reward them. Make police work something Malaysians want to do, and something they can be proud of. Higher salaries constitute just one step, of course, in a series of steps required to make the police force better. It’s a start, though.

And while we’re at it, how about teachers? And nurses? I know, maybe what I’m suggesting isn’t 100% realistic. I mean, we’re not just talking about different police forces but different countries, different economies, different-sized middle classes, different styles of government (I’m having a good day so I won’t elaborate on that last one). But still, it would be nice.

I was kind of hoping this case would be resolved by now, considering it’s been just about a week since I first contacted RHB Bank. But there’s been no official word from them beyond messages from their Corporate Comms guy that he hasn’t heard back from HQ yet, and assurances that he’s on the case. That was the last couple of days. Today: nothing. Meanwhile, H has agreed to a meeting* with someone from RHB’s PJ Business Centre. I’m not sure what will come out of that, since it seems to me the bank is fixated on the dispute over the keys without acknowledging the bigger picture of the carjacking. But it was H’s car that was taken, and H’s keys; if she wants to have a meeting with RHB’s PJ Business Centre people (supposedly now the repossessor won’t be there, which is a relief), that’s entirely up to her. She said she just wants this to be over, so she’s going to attend the meeting. That’s understandable. I want this to be over too.

I’m certainly not letting go of this just yet, though. Even if H decides to accept it and move on, the fact remains that my wife was traumatised by someone who was working on behalf of RHB Bank. The fact that she wasn’t actually hurt is a relief but it doesn’t mean this isn’t serious. She could have been hurt, along with the child she’s carrying. She’s okay physically, but there are a whole lot of ways that incident could have gone differently. I’d rather not think of the possibilities; unfortunately, Leen can’t help but think of them. And I can’t help but fear that real change isn’t going to come about until someone is hurt or even killed during one of these bank-sanctioned carjackings. Considering what I’ve been hearing from people since that incident, I think it’s not unrealistic to imagine that the chances of this happening are disturbingly high, since people representing other banks also repossess cars in this manner.

The Association of Hire Purchase Companies Malaysia, the organisation with which car repossessors in Malaysia must be registered, has a Code of Ethics on Repossession, which I linked to in my first post on this issue. Interestingly enough, RHB Bank provides a copy of this code of ethics on their website:

1. As far as possible the number of authorized repossessors must be minimized unless circumstances warrant any additional assistance.
2. Repossessors should only gain entry into premises with the knowledge and consent of the occupant.
3. Repossessors should be well mannered and dress decently. They should ensure the practice of professionalism and dignity in carrying out their work.
4. The use of strong arm tactics of any kind is strictly prohibited in the performance of their work.
5. At the time of repossession, the repossessors should give a standard notice to the hirer informing him of the following:
The address and telephone number of the finance company and the authorized officers he/she can contact immediately to resolve any problems.
The repossessors must give a reasonable time to the hirer to inspect the vehicle and remove his personal items and belongings.
6. As far as possible repossession should be undertaken in the presence of the hirer or any person authorized to that car.
7. Repossessors should at all times act in accordance with the laws and regulations in the performance of their work.
8. All repossessors should be given and briefed on the Code of Ethics On Repossession and abide by its terms. They should also observe any other Code of Ethics introduced by the Association of Hire Purchase Companies Malaysia, the Association of Finance Companies Malaysia and the Ministry of Domestic Trade and Consumer Affairs from time to time.

Number four looks pretty black and white to me. I’d say carjacking falls under “strong arm tactics”, and that the code of ethics has definitely been breached in this case. But is this code of ethics legally binding, or is it just a guideline? Who should be held accountable? The repossessor/carjacker, Nathan A/L Supramaniam? The company he works for, PJ Auto Mart? Or the financial institution that ordered the repossession, RHB Bank? Someone needs to take responsibility for this.

I suppose if any meaningful action — and any real change — is to take place, it will have to come from the top; in this case the top is the bank. But maybe we shouldn’t be expecting any banks to make the necessary changes on their own. In the world of Malaysian banking , the top spot is occupied by Bank Negara, the National Bank. I was advised to go straight to them by a friend a couple of days ago; that’s probably exactly what we should do. Heck, we should have done that in 2003 when AM Bank swept our fraud case under the carpet. Another option is to go to the AHPCM, or to the Ministry of Domestic Trade and Consumer Affairs.

First, though, let’s see what comes out of that meeting.

*UPDATE: There’s no meeting. H called them back and told them she doesn’t want to meet with them after all, and that if anything happens to her or her car, they’re responsible. Nice. But this isn’t over yet.

This morning Leen called me from work to tell me someone from RHB had called H. It wasn’t someone from the head office, she said, but rather someone from RHB’s PJ Business Centre. He wants H to go to the bank on Friday for a face-to-face meeting with him and the repo man. She said yes, but then she had Leen call me to find out if that’s the bank’s big solution, sent down from the head office. In fact, she doesn’t want to have a meeting with the guy who carjacked her. He intimidated her that day; why should she be subjected to another meeting with him? I called Zaihan, the guy from RHB’s Corporate Comms, to see what’s going on; he was going to get back to me by today but a couple of hours ago he sent me an sms to inform me he still hadn’t heard anything from his bosses.

The bank’s attempt to quietly settle this at the branch level when it’s clearly gone beyond that reminds me of something that happened to Leen and me a few years back. Let me tell you a story.

It was early 2003 and a courier appeared at the door of the house we were staying in, government quarters in the health clinic compound in Tanjung Karang. After signing for the small package I opened it and was very surprised to see that it was a hire-purchase agreement from AM Bank. According to that document, Leen had just purchased a car, a Perodua Kembara. There was even a signature. But it wasn’t hers.

A few weeks before that, Leen had been approached by a lady we’ll call Cik Z, a sort of adopted daughter of Leen’s paternal grandfather. Cik Z lived in Tanjung Karang and wanted to buy a car for her son, who was about to go off to college, but she’d been blacklisted. Leen initially agreed to let Cik Z use her name to get a car, and was in the early stages of the process when she decided it was in fact a bad idea. I’m all for helping people we know, but we didn’t really know Cik Z; she had just sort of come out of nowhere, after decades of very little contact with the family. It didn’t help that Leen and I had just barely started our life together in Malaysia. We couldn’t afford to get screwed by someone.

Well, Cik Z went and screwed us anyway: Leen told her she was sorry but she couldn’t help her, and Cik Z went ahead and bought the car, putting an illegible scribble where Leen’s signature was supposed to be. We were surprised that she could have done that, but not just from a moral standpoint. How could a bank officer have accepted that signature? Shit, meet fan.

We made a police report and also went to see the manager of the local AM Bank branch, Mr. H. I can’t remember which came first, the meeting or the police report. Anyway, our meeting with Mr. H was frustrating, to say the least. We made it clear that a crime had taken place, and that the bank would need to take immediate, appropriate action. To us, that meant immediately removing Leen’s name from any association with the purchase, taking action against whichever bank officer had processed it, and taking legal action against Cik Z for fraud. But that wasn’t what Mr. H had in mind. None of it, in fact.

Mr. H pretty much brushed us off. Even if a crime had in fact taken place, he said, we were complicit, and so the best thing for us to do would be to just let it go and allow Cik Z to keep the car. Changing the loan from Leen’s name to that of Cik Z or her son would be a hassle, he said. He even called Cik Z in and attempted to get us to kiss and make up. Turned out they were friends. Tanjung Karang is a pretty small town. Cik Z, Mr. H and even the guy who had sold the car to Cik Z…they were all friends. After a very heated exchange that got us nowhere, we left.

Instead of going home to figure out what to do, we drove straight to KL, to the AM Bank headquarters on Jalan Yap Kwan Seng. There we talked to someone in the hire-purchase department, Mr. T. Ah, if only it was really Mr. T! “Ah pity da fool who try ta cheat ma customers!” he’d have said. No, this Mr. T was much smaller and wore a lot less jewelry, and didn’t even have a mohawk. He was angry, though…at least, he made it seem like he was. He expressed what seemed to be genuine concern over the details of our case, and even said action would be taken. We left there that day thinking justice would be served.

As far as we know, what the people at AM Bank HQ did was this: they simply transferred the loan from Leen to Cik Z. That’s right, Cik Z got to keep the car. The bank apparently thought it would be easier to do that than to get the car back and auction it off. As far as we know, she got to keep the car, and nothing was ever done to Mr. H or anyone else at the AM Bank branch in Tanjung Karang. As for the police report, well not only did it not lead to any charges, I don’t think it even led to an investigation. The people at AM Bank HQ apparently thought it was enough that Leen’s name had been removed from that particular loan agreement. We were definitely relieved to have her name cleared, but until now we feel justice was not served in that particular case.

In this current case, having our friend H sit down with the carjacker doesn’t sound like a very good solution, because it looks like the PJ Business Centre is trying to keep this local, and besides, as far as I know the repo man is still saying he gave the keys back to H. This issue can’t just go away. H is still afraid; Leen’s been traumatised as well. The people at RHB need to fix this. At this point I don’t know whether the offer to have a meeting was a branch-level initiative or actually the solution proposed by HQ. Whatever the case, I hope RHB Bank will truly accept responsibility for this and act accordingly.

Today Leen and I drove out to Shah Alam and braved the labyrinth that is Kompleks PKNS to submit the documents to the Immigration Dept. for renewal of my pass. I was pleasantly surprised by a few things today:

1) I only needed to submit three forms: the declaration of marriage (stamped by a commissioner of oaths), an extension form, and a visa application form. I thought I’d been given the wrong forms, or not enough forms, but it turned out those three were all I needed.

2) I didn’t need a mountain of supporting documentation. Besides those three forms, I only had to submit one photocopy each of my passport (the main page and the page with my valid pass), Leen’s IC, and our marriage certificates.

3) The immigration officers were friendly and, dare I say, pleasant. Two of the three we spoke with today even smiled. I kid you not.

4) My new pass (one year) was processed in just a few hours. I’d never submitted all the required documents and got my pass all on the same day before this. I was impressed.

But this is a post about PR, right? Okay, so we also talked to one of the officers who handle PR. Here’s what we learned:

1) The Malaysian government is still serious about giving PR to foreign spouses.

2) However, if you’re a foreign spouse, you need to have been here at least five or six years (I can’t remember which).

3) Also, you need to have been here the entire time on a spouse visa. If you recently married a Malaysian and just got here, you need to stay here for several years on the visa that recently replaced the spouse visa, which is pretty much the same thing, before you can apply for PR. If you’ve been here for several years but weren’t on the old spouse visa (for example, if you were on a regular work visa), then those years won’t count and you’ll still have to wait several years before you can apply for PR.

4) Even if you’ve been here the minimum number of years on the old spouse visa (like me), if you were to apply for PR now your application would definitely be rejected. That’s because every time you got your spouse visa in the past there was a little note the Immigration people had in their system that said something like “This poor sod can’t even apply for PR.” They’re currently changing their system so that previous years people spent here under the old spouse programme will count towards new PR applications. But we were told today that process is ongoing and won’t be completed until at least February. So if you’ve been here several years and spent most or all of them on a spouse visa, you can apply for PR but you should wait a couple more months.

I just got a one-year visa, plus I’ve got a kid on the way, so I’m going to wait until maybe April to apply for PR. Then we’ll see how long it takes for a decision, and whether it’s a good one. I know better than to expect the best possible outcome, but if today was any indication then it’s possible this story may have a happy ending after all. We’ll see.

For some perspective, here are my last few posts regarding immigration and the quest for Permanent Resident status in Malaysia:

Like a (Visa) Virgin, Approved for the Very First (or 17th) Time
Light at the End of the Tunnel?
Malaysian PR: Some McVay Guy’s Thoughts (and Mine)
Malaysian PR: Another Hopeful Sign
Malaysian PR: The Catch

Wednesday was turning out to be a pretty good day: I had a very smooth, efficient visit to Immigration in Shah Alam; I got paid; I got an awesome, free lunch, not to mention great company and conversation. Yes, it was shaping up to be a pretty good day. I did some banking, paid some bills, and was on my way back to Kajang when the car started to feel sluggish, heavy. Then, as I was climbing a hill, the car died. Just like that. Running one moment, then suddenly…silence and engine lights. I coasted to the side of the road, next to the Petronas station in Taman Len Sen, Cheras. I called Leen, who called a relative who lives nearby, who called a mechanic near her place. Then I spent about three hours sitting on the side of the road, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

Leen and I spoke several times on the phone. It was almost time for her to punch out for the day, so we planned to meet at Ibu’s cousin’s place in Bandar Tun Hussein Onn. That’s where Al hangs out while we’re at work. At six, she left Masterskill College with her assistant, H, who’s been staying with us. H drives Leen to work every morning; they drop Al off on the way and pick him up on the way home. The plan for Wednesday was pretty much the same, except this time they were going to wait for me at Ibu’s cousin’s place.

Major change of plans

Sometime after six I was still sitting there on the side of the road watching the mechanic perform battlefield surgery on my poor old Wira, when suddenly Leen called me, all in a panic. She and H couldn’t meet me at Ibu’s cousin’s place, because someone had just taken H’s car right out from under them. In fact, the perpetrator was still there; Leen alternated between breathlessly filling me in and ruthlessly cursing the villain. Were they being carjacked? Yes, but no. The car was being repossessed. But actually, as far as I’m concerned, it was a carjacking.

Here’s the story as they told it to me: They had just left Masterskill and were driving along the road to Batu 9 Cheras when the car in front of them suddenly began to swerve left and right. H honked at the driver, who would put on a turn signal but then swerve in the opposite direction. If that sounds like a dangerous thing to do on a busy road, what happened next was even worse: the driver swerved in front of H in such a way that she had no choice but to go off the road, onto the strip of dirt and rocks that passes for a shoulder. Then the driver of the other car got out and hustled over to H’s car. He banged on her window, waving a piece of paper at her, saying it was a letter from the bank and that he was there to repossess her car.

I really don’t know the details, but apparently H had missed the maximum number of payments one can miss in a row before repossession takes place. The bank had every right to repossess the car. H said she doesn’t recall getting any notification to that effect, but her family recently moved, and she figures the letters went to the old address. Whatever the case, she had signed an agreement with the bank, and not making her payments meant she had to suffer the consequences.

But did she have to suffer through what she was enduring on the side of the road Wednesday evening? When she put her window down to argue with the man, he immediately reached in, switched off her engine, and pulled out the key. H managed to grab part of the key ring as well, and the two had a tug-of war. H has skinny little arms, so no prize for guessing who won. The thug, whose name is Nathan A/L Supramaniam, ripped the part with all the keys right from her grip; H was left with the remote for the alarm and a twisted piece of metal that used to be a key ring.

Leen was out of the car by that time, and was yelling at the repo man. H got out too. Before they could even fully take in what was going on, a tow-truck that had been tailing them pulled up, the repo man hooked H’s car up to it, and it drove away. That was around the time Leen called me.

Once the car was gone, Nathan, the repo man, tried to pour on the charm, but the whole “Just doing my job” thing didn’t make the ladies feel any better. Nor did the fact that he even gave them a lift…to the next traffic light. Leen and H got out of Nathan’s car (which also contained several children) and walked up a hill to a bus stop on the side of the Cheras-Kajang highway. Then Leen called me again. And again. And again. My wife, eight months pregnant and tired from a long day at work, didn’t deserve the treatment she got that day. Nobody deserves that, but come on. It was nasty.

I was still standing on the side of the road in Taman Len Sen. When the mechanic had finally fixed my car, I forked over 400 Ringgit (sucks but it could have been way worse) and raced to that bus stop to get Leen and H. Needless to say, they were a mess. H was crying, and Leen was still swearing.

It gets worse

The next day H’s family managed to gather together enough money to get the car back. When she finally got it back, she asked for the keys and was told they should be with her. Nathan, she was told, had said she still had the keys. But the last time she’d seen the keys was when he’d ripped them from her hands. Next stop: the police station in Puchong, near her parents’ place.

When she made a police report, an interesting thing happened: the police actually expressed concern. Now, I’ve dealt with the Royal Malaysian Police on several occasions, and my opinion of them is not exactly glowing. Insult a monarch and you’re royally screwed, but you could very well get away with screwing over the average citizen — or, in my case, the average visitor.

And yet here were the Royal Malaysian Police expressing great concern over H’s safety. Okay, so she’s young and slim and pretty…but I’m trying to believe that wasn’t the only reason the cops were concerned. She said they were actually concerned, so I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt. According to the officers who took her statement, there have been many cases just like H’s, and they didn’t all end well. Apparently there are syndicates that are closely tied to the repo men, who sometimes really are gangsters in every sense of the word. The repo men (or the gangsters they work for) take the keys to the car and simply wait for the owner to get the car back. Then they shadow the car and waits for the right moment to strike. Some wait till the owner leaves the car unattended; others will just run it off the road, open the door, toss out the driver, and take off with the car. Unfortunately the ‘toss out the driver’ part often includes violence. Terrible violence. The police officers strongly advised Hanim to change the locks on her car right away.

The fact that the police called H several times to make sure she was okay didn’t really comfort any of us; it just made us worry more. H is afraid to drive her car now, especially alone, and especially at night. I’m not too thrilled by the idea of Leen and Al leaving her every morning in that car, either. So this morning I drove everyone to their respective destinations.

The more we talked about it, the angrier I became. I mean, I don’t dispute the bank’s right to repossess a vehicle when a certain number of payments are missed. Nor do I disagree with the concept of the repo man. But I think a line was crossed in this case…and, I’m told, this case is not unique. A lot of people who heard this story over the last couple of days have told me that it’s quite common for repo men to bully drivers off the roads and out of their cars. In Malaysia, anyway.

Theft Vs. Robbery

We have repo men back home too. I’m sure there are probably all kinds of cases in which repo men have nasty confrontations with people whose cars are being repossessed. But there’s a very important difference between auto repossession in North America and here in Malaysia. Here’s a description of how auto repossession is carried out in the US, for example:

It should be pointed out that almost all state laws require that a repossession be done in a peaceful manner. Since most people get very upset when they see a repo man repossessing their vehicle, most repossessions are completed in the middle of the night or while the debtor is working without the owner’s knowledge. It’s really a legal steal. This gets around the “peaceful manner” state laws. The old term “possession is nine tenths of the law” applies in auto repossession. Normally, the repossession is not complete until the vehicle is off of the debtor’s property. It is usually unlawful to enter a closed garage in order to complete the repossession. In such a case, the repo man usually waits until the subject is at work or he’ll follow him to the grocery store or something. That way, the repossession can be completed in an easy manner.

Before the repossessor attempts to repo the vehicle, he must first make very sure he is repoing the right car. He will match the VIN number he obtains from his client to the VIN number on the vehicle. The VIN number is usually located on the dashboard on the driver’s side.

The repossession agent has a number of methods in which a vehicle is removed or taken into possession.

KEY CODES
Just about every vehicle that has been sold in the last five or six years has a key code. Key codes can usually be obtained from the title slip. A copy of the key code is usually kept on file at the car dealership. In more recent times, it has become the practice of many banks to obtain the key codes for each loan file and they will have a record of it. Some banks even go as far as having a set of keys cut and kept with the file. A key code is simply a code number used to cut the keys. The repossessor either does this himself with a key cutting machine or has a locksmith do it for him. Although many repo men have become auto locksmiths themselves, this is really not a requirement. The majority of repo men simply have an account with a local locksmith who does his work for him. With the key codes, the repo man simply has a set of keys cut and uses them to complete the repossession. However, sometimes key codes are not available and other times the debtor has had his locks changed so the key codes will not work.

TOWING
Many repo men use towing as a means of repossession. Many start out making a deal with a local towing company who will give them a discount price. Later, the repo man can purchase a used tow truck if he likes this method.

LOCK PICKING, LOCK PULLING, PICKS AND CLICKS
You can purchase a small metal rod called a slimjim that is used to place down the door which catches the lock part that pulls up the door lock so you can open the car door. Another method is the coat hanger method. People do not know this but glass will bend somewhat.

Once inside the vehicle, the repo man uses several different methods to start the vehicle if he does not have the key. The old key housings that are located in the dash simply unscrew. Once unscrewed, all one has to do is place a screwdriver into the housing and turn. On newer models, the lock housing is on the steering column. In such a case, the repo man either pickes the lock or uses what is called a dent puller. A dent puller is a large round rod that has a sliding hammer on it. On one side is a screw type bolt that can be screwed down into the lock housing. Once in place, the lock housing can be, “hammered” or “slammed out”. This item is used by auto body shops to pull out dents. Another method is a lock lifter. This is a screw type piece of equipment that goes over the lock housing. It forces tension on the lock until the housing is lifted out. Once out, the repo man simply starts the vehicle by placing a screwdriver down into the now open housing.

Note the part that calls auto repossession a “legal steal”. That’s basically what it is: legal theft. But there’s a very clear distinction to be made between theft and robbery. What happened to H and Leen on Wednesday was not theft. It was robbery, plain and simple. They were carjacked. Considering the police reaction to this particular case, I’m not even sure if we can call this legal robbery. Maybe technically it was. But whether or not it was legal, one thing is certain: this particular carjacking was carried out on behalf of a major financial institution, namely RHB Bank. The carjacker may have been working for a different company (in this case PJ Automart) that RHB Bank had contracted the job out to, but the bottom line is that the guy was working for RHB Bank.

Through some contacts I managed to talk to someone from RHB Bank’s Corporate Comms today, a friendly fellow named Zaihan. I explained the situation to him, and even managed not to yell. He expressed shock and dismay. There are protocols repo men are supposed to follow, he said. I’m sure there are rules these guys are supposed to adhere to, but is anyone enforcing those rules? If the rules are not enforced, and the repo men don’t follow them, who is held accountable? I don’t think simply terminating the services of repo men who do things like this is enough. Ultimately, RHB Bank is responsible for what happened. Mr. Zaihan apologised on behalf of RHB Bank, but I wasn’t the victim here. I told Zaihan that RHB Bank should 1) apologise to H and my wife, 2) replace the locks on H’s car, and 3) put in place a stricter policy so that incidents like this do not occur in the future.

Where to now?

Zaihan said he’ll get back to me Tuesday, so we’ll have to wait until then to see where this goes. I appreciate his concern, and I really hope this can be resolved amicably. This is an opportunity for RHB Bank to take the lead in putting stricter, more adequate controls on the business of auto repossession in Malaysia. Yes, supposedly there are rules in place, and supposedly there is a ‘Car Repossession Code of Ethics‘, but it seems to me Malaysian auto repossessors are really stretching the boundaries of what is legal and ethical.

If you believe everything happens for a reason, then you might believe my car broke down so I wouldn’t be able to race to where Leen was in time to have a violent confrontation with the thug who took H’s car. The 400 Ringgit I had to pay the mechanic is a small price to pay for the fact that I’m sitting here and not in a prison cell doing time for seriously injuring someone. You might also believe this entire incident happened so that a spotlight could be cast upon the dirty tactics employed by repo men in Malaysia. I don’t know if I believe any of that, though it is tempting. I just hope this incident ultimately leads to some positive changes, and ideally the end of bank-sanctioned carjackings in this country.

When I logged into Facebook today I noticed a whole bunch of people on my list were posting one-word status updates, all colours. Then I noticed only the ladies were doing it. Then I noticed guys leaving comments asking them what it was about, and the ladies were almost all at least a little cryptic about it. So I asked my friend Google, who told me it was a meme in which women are to say what colour bra they happen to be wearing at the moment; the meme was supposed to raise breast cancer awareness. All I can say is:

WTF?

It seems a lot of people found it tee hee cute, but how many people know more about breast cancer now because of it? All I know is what colour bra half the women on my list wore today. Even worse is that people were cryptic about it. I even read somewhere that someone who wanted their friends to do the meme threw in a line about confusing men. Well isn’t that cute! Let’s deliberately confuse half the population, to raise breast cancer awareness!

Ok, I’m not actually upset about all that. That would be silly, so don’t anyone get their pink polka-dotted bras all knotted up. And if some women out there actually did end up at least thinking about breast cancer because of that meme, that’s great. But is that going to be the end result in most cases? Seriously, I applaud any effort to raise awareness of cancer, but…What I really want to say here is: If you want to do this, do it right.

For someone to participate in that meme, all she has to do is remember what colour bra she put on this morning. That’s it. If she has somehow forgotten, she might look at her bra and say ‘Well shit look at that I put the fuschia one on today!’ But how many are going to start pawing at their own breasts, looking for telltale signs of breast cancer? No, like I said, if you want to do this kind of thing, do it right.

By the way, I don’t know crap about breast cancer, so I can’t tell anyone how to ‘do it right’. I love holding breasts in my hands as much as the next guy (well, depending on who the next guy is), but they’re not MY breasts, and like I said, I don’t know crap about breast cancer anyway. So what to do?

Well, one thing I can do is try to raise awareness of testicular cancer among the fellas out there. And guess what, fellas? I don’t care what colour underwear you’ve got on right now. I don’t even care whether you’re wearing boxers, briefs, tighty-whities or those litte bikini brief things. I don’t care, because it doesn’t matter. All I care about is this: do you know how to check yourself for signs of testicular cancer?

Um…

Yeah, go ahead, laugh it up. But bear in mind that testicular cancer is the most common cancer in males age 15 to 35. That’s an American statistic, but in Canada it’s probably about the same. TC is still pretty rare compared to other cancers, and is way less common among Asian men, but you know what? Its relative rarity here in Malaysia means fewer men have even heard of it, so I’ll bet a lot of cases go unchecked way longer than they should because of an almost complete lack of awareness (not to mention cultural stuff that may or may not inhibit men from talking about their balls with doctors and whoever else). I’ve heard a few stories about Malaysian guys who got testicular cancer; too many of those stories didn’t have very happy endings, compared to stories from home. Anyway, no matter where you are, I think it’s a good idea that you have some awareness of testicular cancer.

Since I’m no doctor, I’ll just point you to some websites where you can find information about testicular cancer:

What is testicular cancer?
Testicular Cancer at Medline Plus
The National Cancer Institute

And, saving the best for last:
The Testicular Cancer Resource Center

That last site is awesome. It even has a section called ‘The Humorous Side of TC’. Even if you never find out you have TC and end up saving your own life because you had proper awareness of it, you’ll at least know some good jokes about testicles. Trust me, when everyone’s telling jokes and you’re searching your memory for a few good ones to contribute, nothing beats testicle jokes.

Anyway, after taking a look at those websites (you will take a look, won’t you fellas?) I hope you’ll take the time to do a self-examination. A detailed description can be found here. If you’re easily bored by details, then at least do this: Grab your balls. If you don’t find any hard, pea-sized lumps on what should otherwise be the smooth surface of your testicles, you’re probably OK. But check again some other time. And READ THE LINKS I JUST POSTED, ESPECIALLY THE ONE ABOUT THE SELF EXAM. Oh, and just as the ladies out there (and the men who love them) know that all breasts are kind of lumpy, you fellas should bear in mind that you don’t actually have two smooth eggs in your scrotum. There’s all sorts of plumbing in there, so it will feel kind of lumpy. You just have to know where the lumps should be, where they shouldn’t, and whether there have been any changes in where your lumps are. Anyway, just check the links.

Why?

I do appreciate the fact that you’ve read this far. In case you’re wondering why I’m going on about this stuff, and you don’t know my background, this is where I should point out that in 2002, when I was 28 years old, I was diagnosed with testicular cancer. I had a lump that turned out to be an epididymal cyst, which I went in to have removed; when the doctor opened me up he found lesions on my right testicle. He removed the testicle as well. That wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision: the testicle had atrophied and he was going to remove it anyway, with my consent. But still, having one of my nuts sliced off was not something I was looking forward to. Anyway, the lesions turned out to be malignant tumours, and the next thing I knew I was being told I had seminoma. (That sucked but it sure beats non-seminoma, which grows and spreads much faster.) I was assured my cancer probably hadn’t spread, but CT scans revealed it had in fact spread to my retroperitoneal lymph nodes. To kill the cancer I underwent radiation therapy, during which I would lie motionless on a table while a big machine shot beams of radiation into my abdomen. I did this 20 times, the beams hitting exactly the same spots each time thanks to seven tattoos a nurse had put on me to use as a map. After that I just did my best to recover, though in hindsight moving to a developing country a stone’s throw from the equator two weeks after completing the radiotherapy may have complicated things a wee bit. Still, I think I’ve done pretty well, thanks to a positive attitude and a supportive family. And I’ve got a wonderful little boy, and another one on the way. Life is good. But there’s always the possibility the cancer will return; I’m also more likely to get other types of cancer, such as leukemia, thanks to the radiation I was exposed to. So far so good, though. I just need to stay positive and stay INFORMED.

Oh, and ladies, you can help! This is not just a man thing, no ma’am! You see, YOU might be the one who finds the lump. Or maybe your man finds one, or has symptoms that at least one of you suspects might be signs of testicular cancer, but he’s all macho and doesn’t want to see a doctor. Seriously, you can help. We need you, ladies. If it makes you feel any better, we’ll do our best to help you check for breast lumps. We’ll do that, won’t we fellas?

In the meantime, anyone reading this can help, simply by sharing what I’ve just written with their brothers, sons, fathers, friends, cousins, colleagues, or anyone else who could benefit from at least a little awareness of this thing called testicular cancer. And if anyone out there happens to know anyone here in Malaysia who has testicular cancer, or has been through it, please put them in touch with me. I think I want to start a support group.

Anyway, sorry if I’m being pushy or preachy about this stuff, but really I think most guys out there need a good boot in the arse to get them to be aware of testicular cancer. If you think that sounds a bit harsh, I can tell you it sure beats a kick in the balls.

Update (2010/01/11): Some people I know actually did share this (thanks so much!); the comments I’ve seen elsewhere seem to be somewhat evenly split between something like ‘Yeah, he’s got an excellent point!’ and something like ‘He’s over-reacting, and besides, it seems this meme did work because it even got him thinking about cancer.’ Well, to those who disagree with what I’ve written here, please understand that despite the facetious tone of my post, I don’t mean any disrespect. There’s nothing wrong with the meme itself; that is, it’s no worse than other memes that are seemingly pointless but somewhat entertaining, memes I find myself taking part in too. My main point of criticism is that I just don’t think this particular meme really did much, if anything at all, to increase awareness of breast cancer. Even if it did, it could have been more effective, perhaps with a shortened link to real information about breast cancer appearing in every one of those status messages. And I should point out that the meme didn’t get me thinking about cancer either. I think about cancer often. In fact, what got me thinking about my current idea to set up a testicular cancer support group here in Malaysia was not that meme, but rather a whole bunch of other things: visits to hospitals to visit people I know with cancer; stories I’ve been told about people with cancer; and thoughts about my own cancer adventure and what it must be like for Malaysians with testicular cancer. Anyway, the meme didn’t get me thinking about cancer, but I’ll admit this: it did spark this post. If that’s going to be taken as proof that the meme was a success, that’s fine, because the winner here is cancer awareness either way.

I’m on fire today! Two very productive calls to Malaysian government departments — both conducted completely in Malay (yay for fluency!) — and look at this, two blog posts. After my conversation with a surprisingly friendly and helpful officer at the National Registration Department, I called the Immigration Department to see if I could get some more information about the government’s recently-unveiled plans to give PR status to foreign spouses of Malaysian citizens. The extension listed on an Immigration document I have at home was wrong, so I got some lady in the Student Visa section who had obviously been sleeping when the phone rang. She drowsily sent me back to the main switchboard, and I was finally connected to someone in the Entry Permit Section.

Now, I’m pleased with my fluency in Malay — at least it’s better than a few years ago, when the prospect of speaking Malay on the phone scared the hell out of me — but I have to admit I didn’t understand this guy as well as the guy at the National Registration Department. I think maybe my fluency diminishes as my morning coffee wears off. But I did manage to ask him all the questions I had, and I did get fairly comprehensible answers to those questions. Just for the record, if I didn’t understand something he said, I asked him to repeat and/or clarify. So here’s what he told me:

The good news is, eligible foreign spouses can apply for PR immediately. The Immigration officer said I could go and get the forms tomorrow morning if I want. However, here’s the catch: even under the new initiative recently unveiled as part of next year’s budget, foreign spouses will have to wait six years before they’re eligible for PR. That is, if you’re married to a Malaysian and you want PR status, you’ll need to have lived here for at least six consecutive years, during which you were either under the now-defunct Spouse Programme or an equivalent.

Is anyone really surprised that there’s a catch? I’m certainly not. That’s Malaysia. There is a bit of hope though, as the officer said time already spent in Malaysia before this new initiative does count, even the years I spent under the old Spouse Programme. That contradicts what I was told on my last visit to Immigration, which was basically that I still have to wait six years because the Spouse Programme’s replacement is new and I’m starting from scratch. I really, really hope the new initiative means my previous visas count, because that would mean I really could apply for PR right away. But again, I have to look at this with a skeptic’s eye and assume there’s a big chance they’ll tell me I can only apply in 2015, six years from the time I got my current pass. I’m sure they’ll find a way to make me start from zero, because they’ve done it several times already.

For foreign spouses who just got here, or are about to move here: you’ll definitely be waiting a while for your PR.

So that’s it, straight from the source. If I get any more information, I’ll be sure to share it here in my blog.

Some of you may know by now that Leen and I are expecting our second child (you can call him A2 for now) sometime in March. That means I’ll be doing all that baby stuff again, which includes not only sleepless nights (woohoo, can’t wait) but also a visit to the National Registration Department to get our child a birth certificate. I blogged about the registration of Alisdair’s birth here. If you don’t want to read that post, here’s a summary: the form asked for both my keturunan and Leen’s; since keturunan means ancestry and my ancestors migrated to Canada from Scotland, England, France, and Ireland, I put European on the form. Traditionally, children in Malaysia (at least in the dominant Malay culture) have taken on the ethnicity, religion, etc. of their fathers. So technically, at least according to his birth certificate, Alisdair is not Malay but European.

As someone who’s interested in culture, history, and genealogy — and as someone who spends way too much time thinking about things when most people would have just moved on — I’ve spent the last few years wondering about the choice I made that day, identifying myself and my son as European. After all, he’s never been to Europe, and the only time I’ve ever been there was a brief transit through Stockholm on my last trip home in 2005. I suppose if I had to choose just one population to identify with in terms of ancestry, I’d just go along with what the MacVays have been identifying themselves as for several hundred years: Scottish. But I went with European anyway, since it’s also technically true. I certainly wasn’t going to go with Caucasian or White or anything like that.

Well, it turns out European is exactly what the Malaysian government considers my ancestry to be; the National Registration Department would have put that into their system even if I had put Scottish or Canadian (which one could argue is a good label for my ancestry, though it’s more accurately my nationality) on the form. I know that because fellow blogger Bin Gregory recently visited the NRD/JPN to register his youngest son (his seventh child, I believe). Here’s what he told me:

JPN has redesigned their birth certificates again. For the first time, the race of the child is listed right on the cert. As you know, in the past it listed the race of the mother and father but not the kid, leaving the child’s race undetermined. Well not anymore - the kid takes the father’s race and now I have my first official European child, haha, though in fact the JPN told me all my kids are in the computer as Euro. Just thought I’d tell ya, in case you were as confused as I was about it. I asked to be listed as American, but that’s not a recognized category, apparently. I don’t suppose Canadian is either. :-)

So I guess I made the right choice in identifying myself as European, since that’s what all ‘white’ parents of Malaysian children are labeled with anyway. But Bin Gregory’s experience did leave me somewhat confused. When I registered Alisdair’s birth I already suspected that the lack of space for his keturunan on the form meant his would just follow mine, but I was never really sure. Leen and I always assumed — or rather hoped — that the lack of an official keturunan for Al meant we could get away with identifying him as Malay. But again, we were never sure. With this new information, it seemed we had our answer: all ‘white’ parents are European by default; children inherit the keturunan of their fathers by default; therefore, Alisdair is officially European, not Malay. OK, fair enough (he’s still got bumiputera status anyway, by virtue of having one Malay parent), but I needed to be sure. So I went straight to the source.

Today I called the National Registration Department and asked someone there the following questions: 1) Do all ‘white’ parents of Malaysian children have European as their keturunan? 2) Do children automatically follow their fathers? 3) If a child’s ancestry is European, does that mean the child is officially non-Malay, even if the child’s mother is Malay?

1) According to the friendly officer who spoke with me (I didn’t get his name because I’m really horrible at remembering to ask for names like that, and even worse at remembering them), yes, all ‘white’ parents of Malaysian children are automatically European. It doesn’t matter what they enter for their keturunan, because in the department’s system they’re on file as European. That’s why Bin Gregory was told all of his children were in the system as European, even though that’s not what he’d listed as his ancestry. Whether you’re American, Canadian, or actually one of the various flavours of European, you’re European to the Malaysian government. As long as you’re ‘white’ anyway. Asian ancestries are broken down (Malay, Chinese, Indian, etc.) but those from outside Asia are put into larger groupings. So if you’re American, Canadian, European or whatever, and you happen to be black, well then your ancestry will probably be in the system here as African (though that’s just an assumption, since I didn’t specifically ask about non-white foreigners).

2) Yes, children automatically follow their fathers. So if my ancestry is European, my children are considered European as well. However, that’s just the default. For more information on that, let’s look at the answer to the next question.

3) Yes, if the father’s ancestry is European, and the child is officially European as well, then the child is not Malay. Bumiputera, yes, but not Malay. However, like I said above, that’s just the default. This is where the reasoning for specifying the child’s keturunan on the birth certificate comes in: parents can now choose to have their children be officially identified with either of their ancestries. So when our next child is born, I’ll be European, Leen will be Malay, and A2 can be either one. I’m not completely comfortable with this, as I would prefer to have both lineages count towards his ancestry (even if that meant he would be put into the system as Eurasian). But it’s good news for anyone who really wants their kids to be ‘officially’ Malay. We’re still undecided. I mean, Al (along with his future adik) is for all intents and purposes Malay, no matter what label the government puts on him; plus, like I said, he’s also a bumiputera, which will come in handy. What we need to figure out is whether or not there’s any real advantage to being not just Bumiputera but a Malay Bumiputera. Being a Muslim and a Bumiputera should mean our kids will have plenty of opportunities and privileges even if they’re not technically Malay (opportunities and privileges which ideally all Malaysians would enjoy, but I’m thinking as a parent here).

But there’s a catch: children born before the introduction of the new birth certificate are considered to be of whatever ancestry their fathers are; to change the official ancestry of a child born before the new birth cert came out, parents have to apply to the National Registration Department. The officer I spoke to reminded me that there’s no guarantee such applications will be approved. So it’s quite possible that if we choose to register A2 as Malay, we’ll have one European kid and one Malay kid, even though both have the same parents. That would be a bit strange.

As I view any news related to the possibility of getting Malaysian PR with a skeptical eye, I’ve been saying that even if the government were serious about this whole PR thing it would still take a long time for me to get PR. Why? Well, I’ve been aware for some time now that there was a huge backlog of PR applications sitting in a pile somewhere. I thought there were about 5,500 applications, but the Home Minister recently stated that there were actually 16,812. I don’t think I have to explain how a sentence with the words government, inefficiency, and backlog sounds much, much worse when that number is added into the mix. Ever the skeptic, I thought that was the catch: they’ll give me PR, but they’ll spend years going through that pile first.

However, over the weekend the Home Ministry proudly announced that it had driven its employees like pistons and cleared over 140,000 applications, including those 16,812 applications for PR. Wow, that is pretty impressive, though I hope the speed wasn’t the result of having one guy go through the pile with a big stamp that says REJECTED. (See? I can’t turn off the skepticism here.)

Still, it is a positive sign; I look forward to seeing more of those.

The other night a reporter from the Malay Mail called me to get my thoughts on the recent announcement that foreign husbands will get PR. Here’s the article that appeared the next day, entitled ‘Budget 2010: Visa cheer for expats’:

THE 2010 Budget announced by the Prime Minister last Friday has brought smiles to expatriates planning to spend more time here.

Prime Minister Datuk Seri Najib Tun Razak in his maiden budget announced that the government would be making it easier for talented and skilled expatriates to get permanent residence (PR) status in a bid to drive the economy forward.

He said visas would automatically be granted to working family members within 14 days for those coming to work here, in addition to the extension of PR status to foreigners married to Malaysian women.

This was well received by expatriates residing in Malaysia who have been longing for PR status.

Canadian Jordan McVay, 35, who has been living here for the past seven years after marrying a Malaysian said he would be elated if the government kept to its announcement.

“Within seven years, I have had 17 visas and each trip to the Immigration Department has been frustrating. I have been told so many times that it would be difficult to obtain PR status here by Immigration officers,” McVay told Malay Mail.

“If I had brought my wife back to Canada, she would have been granted a PR within six months. It has been easier for foreign women that marry Malaysian men to obtain PR status.

“Previously the government announced different types of programmes for expats, but they didn’t work. I really hope that this does work. I will be very delighted,” he added.

Cyrus Daruwalla from India echoed McVay’s sentiments and said that the government was moving in the right direction.

“This will definitely encourage more expats to come to Malaysia but we shall have to wait and see how this is going to play out. I am still skeptical about the PR issue.”

Daruwalla has been living in Malaysia for 16 years after marrying a local woman.

“The government is making the right move and it shows more equality. This will help bring in expats,”
Daruwalla said.

Briton Bob Teasdale was equally thrilled with the announcement and said he would apply for PR status now that the rules have been eased.

“Asia is the way of the future and Malaysia is doing the right thing. The Malaysian government has had various programmes to encourage foreigners to move here and it has all been great, especially the Malaysia, My Second Home programme,” he said.

“I have family and friends who will be interested to move here if this programme is implemented. However, it is still easier to obtain PR status in Hong Kong and Singapore,” Teasdale said. Teasdale has been living in Malaysia for 16 years and is married with two children.

It wasn’t just my name the reporter got wrong. Not all of the quotes attributed to me in the article were my exact words, as far as I can remember anyway. To be fair, though, I sort of talked the guy’s ear off, which gave him a lot of quotes to work with but may have overwhelmed him a bit if he was jotting down notes instead of recording the conversation. When I realised afterwards that he had probably missed quite a bit of what I had said, I sent him an email with some quotes he could use. Here’s what I wrote:

My wife and I have been married since 2001, and we’ve lived in Malaysia since 2002. Since coming here I’ve had 17 visas, the longest being just short of two years. Getting those visas was frustrating enough, but what’s been even more frustrating is the fact that it’s incredibly difficult to get PR here. I have a number of friends who are married to Malaysians and they all face the same obstacles when it comes to dealing with the Immigration Dept. and trying to get PR. I know people who have been here for decades before finally getting PR. How many have given up and left, taking their Malaysian spouses away with them?

When the news about PR being extended to foreign husbands of Malaysian women came out in the last couple of days in relation to the 2010 budget, of course I was excited, but I haven’t really allowed myself to jump for joy yet, because I’ve been excited by promising announcements in the past only to be disappointed. For example, a couple of years ago the government announced that foreign spouses would be able to get five-year visas, but it turned out only those with five-year work contracts would be eligible. I don’t know anyone who has ever had a five-year employment contract, let alone a five-year visa.

If the government is serious about this latest initiative, then I will be very happy, and very grateful. Extension of PR to foreign spouses would be an acknowledgement that we are immigrants, not merely visitors as stated on our visas. We have strong ties to this country, with not only Malaysian spouses but in many cases Malaysian children as well. My wife and I have a three-year-old son, born and raised here, and another on the way. Getting PR here would certainly make it easier, not only for me but for my entire family, to enjoy life in Malaysia and to contribute in our own way to this country we all call home.

My written quotes didn’t quite make it into the article, but I suppose the reporter did get the gist of what I had told him, despite a few mistakes here and there. I wish he’d got my name right, though. I thought I had spelled it out pretty clearly. But hey, it’s not the first time: people get it wrong all the time in Canada too.

Meanwhile, the details of this new PR initiative are still scarce. I think the next step will be a call to the Immigration Department. Let’s see what they say.

My Kiwi pal Jake called me this evening to tell me he’d just read a very interesting article over at The Malaysian Insider. The article, with the promising title Budget 2010: Easy PR status for skilled expats, has even more promising information inside:

The government said today it will simplify the granting of permanent residence (PR) status to talented and skilled expatriates in a bid to drive the economy forward.

Prime Minister Datuk Seri Najib Abdul Razak also announced that visas will be automatically given to working family members within 14 days for those coming to work here, in addition to the extension of PR status to foreigners married to Malaysian women.

Tabling the 2010 Budget in Parliament here, Najib said during said the move is intended to accelerate technology transfers through the import of superior foreign skills and expertise.

This will contribute to the transformation of the country into a high-income nation, one of the major goals in Najib’s first Budget as prime minister.

There’s more, of course, but what I find especially interesting is, obviously, the bit about PR. Let’s look at that again, shall we?

[...] the extension of PR status to foreigners married to Malaysian women.

Now, with the way things tend to go here in Malaysia, I can’t bring myself to jump up and down with delight, despite the ‘wow, great news’ feeling such words should provoke in me.

But if it is indeed true…wow, great news!

Today a friend (who could hardly contain his glee) told me about a great online resource called Sejarah Melayu (Malay History), which bills itself as A History of the Malay Peninsula but contains goodies from all over the Malay Archipelago. What’s especially interesting is the Sejarah Melayu Library, which is described as…

…perhaps the largest public on-line collection of books and other texts on the history of the Malay archipleago and its surrounding region. Consisting of over 600 documents in electronic PDF format, the library includes books related to specific topics in the history of the Malay archipleago and its surrounding region, travelogues, general histories, academic papers, encyclopedias, dictionaries and other types of references. Essential downloads include the Sejarah Melayu itself, the Kedah Annals, Hikayat Abdullah and The Commentaries of Alfonso d’Albuquerque.

Of course, I find myself drawn to the drool-inducing Language section. There’s lots of other great stuff hiding elsewhere on the site too, I think. Do check out this fascinating (and free) resource if you’re interested.

Yesterday, after at least a dozen trips to the Immigration Dept. in Shah Alam this year, I finally got my new Malaysian visa. So what kind of visa can you get when you’re married to a Malaysian and have been here for about seven years? A six-month ‘Social Visit Pass’. Why only six months? Because this was my first time. Huh?

Early this year, with my 22-month visa ready to expire (not sure why they couldn’t just make it an even two years but it was the longest visa they ever gave me so I tried not to complain about that), Leen and I once again began the process of preparing documents so I could get a new visa. This time, however, there was all sorts of confusion thrown in — well, there’s always confusion, but this time there was plenty more. We found out the Spouse Programme had been discontinued; it took us a few visits to the Immigration Dept. to find out what type of visa I would take its place. Unfortunately it also took some time and a few pointless visits to the wrong places and a couple of phone calls just to figure out which Immigration Dept. we were supposed to go to. Previously we had gone to Putrajaya, but when I went there this time I was told only people from China could do their visas in Putrajaya now. I went to Pusat Bandar Damansara, but after taking the forms home I noticed a line at the bottom of the checklist saying that only people with Kuala Lumpur addresses would be dealt with. We made some phone calls and were told we would have to go to Shah Alam because Leen’s I/C has a Selangor address (I’m quite glad, in hindsight, that her I/C doesn’t have a Johor address on it). So finally we went to Shah Alam and were given a new checklist, which for some reason was slightly different from the one we had been given in KL. Then we set about preparing the items on the checklist, which included several items the Immigration Dept. already had multiple copies of, such as wedding photos and our marriage certificates. This time we also had to provide family photos, supposedly to prove Al is actually our son (because his birth certificate apparently isn’t proof enough). Finally we submitted exactly 100 pages of documents to the Immigration Dept. and waited for my visa to be approved. In the meantime, they gave me a one-month ‘Special Pass’. And so we waited.

When the month was up, I had to get another Special Pass because my visa still hadn’t been approved for some reason. At the end of another month I was told the same thing; since the maximum number of consecutive Special Passes someone can get is two, I was issued a generic three-month Social Visit Pass. Around that time we were also told why it was taking so long for my visa approval: the Immigration Dept. was still waiting for confirmation from the National Registration Dept. that our marriage was indeed valid. A letter from the NRD, we were told, could clear things up quickly; we were advised to go to the NRD to clear the matter up ourselves if we wanted it done before the expiry of my three-month pass.

So one day not long ago we went to the National Registration Dept. headquarters in Putrajaya and explained our situation to a couple of desk officers, who seemed as confused as we were. Finally we were able to speak to someone a bit higher up the chain of command, who shed some light on the problem, which turned out to be the result of someone at the Canadian High Commission in Ottawa not knowing what they were doing.

After Leen and I got married in 2001, we were told we would have to register our marriage with the Malaysian government within six months or face stiff penalties. We registered with the Malaysian High Commission in Ottawa, a process that involved quite a bit of paperwork; in the end we were issued a document showing that we had registered our marriage and that everything was in order. However, when we returned to Malaysia we were hauled in front of a judge for not registering our marriage in time. It was then we discovered that when the government said they wanted us to register our marriage within six months, they meant they wanted us to come to Malaysia to register with the Jabatan Agama in Muar. Who knew?

Still, when the Immigration Dept. wanted our documents for my visa, we gave them everything, including the seemingly worthless certificate from the High Commission in Ottawa. For several years, no one at the Immigration Dept. said anything about that particular certificate. Then, for some reason, just this year someone at the Immigration Dept. took notice of it and decided to contact the National Registration Dept. to verify the validity of our marriage (because the copies of our marriage certificates from Nova Scotia and Johor, plus the declaration in front of a Commissioner of Oaths that we do for every one of my visas, were apparently not sufficient).

Fast-forward to Leen and me standing there at the National Registration Dept., listening to an official there telling us that the Immigration Dept. shouldn’t have contacted them at all, because Muslim marriages are never registered with the NRD; he also told us the High Commission shouldn’t have issued that certificate to us in the first place, because they’re only issued to Malaysians who are not Muslims. He said the folks at the NRD were beginning to get tired of Muslims showing up there because a Malaysian High Commission somewhere had incorrectly issued them similar certificates. He said the Malaysian High Commission in Australia makes that screw-up even more often than the one in Canada, putting Malaysian Muslims and their Australian spouses through an annoying bureaucratic process that leaves them with a worthless document and puts them at risk of being fined or even jailed upon their return to Australia. I wonder how many other Malaysian High Commissions around the world are doing this, and, more importantly, why.

Anyway, the other day I went back to Shah Alam and was given a form for another Special Pass and was told to photocopy my passport, Leen’s I/C, and our Johor marriage certificate. When my number was called, another officer scolded me for not copying the additional pages of our marriage certificate (we’d never had to provide them before as they’re useless) and also for the fact that Leen wasn’t there with me (even though I was applying for a Special Pass, for which she wouldn’t have to be present). I gave him a letter the NRD had given us (it was sealed but I’m sure it probably said something like PLEASE STOP ASKING US TO VERIFY MUSLIM MARRIAGES); when he got my file he said, “Oh, you don’t need to apply for the Special Pass. Your visa has been approved.”

Hey, I thought, things are looking up! Sure, I’d just wasted time filling out the Special Pass form and getting photocopies of things I didn’t need. But if I could leave that day with my new visa, what the heck! “So how long is this visa for?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

“Six months,” he said, “because this is your first visa. Next time you can get one year; maybe after that you can get two years.”

My first visa. They’d been telling me that throughout the process this time around, but even after hearing it several times I had to shake my head. Basically, because they scrapped the Spouse Programme and created a new one, which is pretty much the same but called something different, my previous visas no longer count. For the record, this new visa is actually my 17th in just under seven years.

Still, it was shaping up to be a pretty good day. At least my six-month “first-time” visa was ready. The officer asked if I’d like to pay that day, and I replied that I would. He asked if I’d like to pay cash and I thought, Hey, look at that…before I could only pay by bank draft. Maybe this is a good day after all! So I said yes.

“Ok,” he said, “that will be ninety ringgit for the visa…”

“Of course,” I said, reaching for my wallet.

“…and two thousand ringgit for the security bond.”

Cue the sound of a needle scratching across a record.

“Wait,” I said. “We’ve never actually had to pay a security bond. Why do we suddenly have to pay it now?”

“Because this is your first visa,” he said. “You can get the money back when you get PR.”

Great, I thought. Whenever that is.

Needless to say, I didn’t have two grand in my wallet and would have to go back later (after much hand-wringing and some frantic calls and messages). After I’d walked out I decided to go back. I had another question.

“Can I just apply for PR now?” I asked another officer, one who has dealt with us several times and is moderately friendly.

“No,” he said. “You don’t qualify.”

“Well when can someone like me qualify for PR?”

He looked at the ceiling like he was really searching the air for the right answers. “Six years,” he said.

Well that’s better than ten, I thought. After all, I’ve already been here for…

“Starting today,” he said.

“But why? I’ve been…”

“Because,” he said, “this is your first visa.”

And so it goes. Yesterday I went back and paid, a simple act which took most of the day. Now I can breathe easy, for a while anyway. This visa is good until 12 February 2010; since renewals are supposed to be set in motion three months before a visa expires, I’ll be back at the Immigration Dept. sometime in November. Hopefully I can get a year on my next visa, my 18th…or, as they will call it, my second.