Indonesian Chinese

Indonesian Chinese
Chinese Indonesian
Chindo
Indochina
Cokin
Tong ngin
Tionghoa
Cina

There are a lot of things people use to call me and similar people : a person of Chinese descent/ancestry who was born and raised in Indonesia.

But in English-speaking world, I always choose to call myself “Indonesian Chinese”.

Sometimes I don’t use it at all, fearing discrimination or sorts. But most of the time, I’m proud of using it. Really.

Never mind about the grammatical rule or anything. Perhaps it should have been Chinese Indonesian, since an adjective should be placed in front of a noun, yes? But then both Chinese and Indonesian can be both adjectives or nouns so.. I don’t know. I’ve found at least two books in SMU Li Ka Shing Library about people like me using different terms : Chinese Indonesian or Indonesian Chinese.

But I chose to use Indonesian Chinese because of this : I’m always an Indonesian first, then a Chinese. Chinese is merely my ancestry, my heritage. Granted, I grew up in a Chinese culture too, being always pushed for the best and punished for being ordinary. But above all, I consider myself an Indonesian. Always. And will always be. (okay honestly I should see in some years’ time, that if they continue to make it difficult for me to travel overseas just because of my citizenship, i’ll seriously consider changing citizenship for practical reasons)

I know May 1998 incidents might have supposedly made me against my country and the so-called indigenous people (how can you say I’m not indigenous too when I was born on the same land as you?). But I didn’t. I don’t know why. I can list a lot of cheesy reasons like how Indonesian nature captivates me, how I love Indonesian food, how Indonesian people are so friendly, and the blah. But no. I love my country, and just like any other type of love, does it really need a reason?

So to so-called native/indigenous Indonesians that refuse to recognize me and others as Indonesians, remember. Indonesia is a melting pot. Living in a melting pot is not the same with, say, a cupboard? In a cupboard you sit and live together with other things, but in a melting pot, we become one. OK I know cupboard is a silly analogy but you get what I mean (I hope).

Whatever happened to Bhinneka Tunggal Ika, man.

Oh and, no, not all of us are rich. Believe it or not, at my very first room in Singapore, the maid employed in the apartment is an Indonesian Chinese.

And where else did you think your “mi ayam” and “siomay” come from?

photo by Midori

photo by Chandra

I know. Yum.

And to people who think that I’m not Chinese because I can’t speak or read Mandarin or because I don’t do things in a Chinese way, this post is my answer. I’m always an Indonesian first then a Chinese. After all I don’t wanna be a Chinese that demeans and teases other people like you.

Where is home?

Home. One word, four letters. How big is a word that can make me confused and insecure? Only a four-letter word.

So which one should I call home? After 2 years in Singapore, I know I’m very comfortable living here. I miss Singapore when I’m back in Jakarta, and vice versa.

But somehow I think people that claim to be the “native” of places that I’ve lived in don’t really think I should live in the same place with them.

I remember vividly May 1998. How can I ever forget it. (read my reminiscence here) I was barely 9 years old but I can feel the hatred directed to me. To my people. We, the people with fairer skin that live in a fairly big house and go to private school. They say we’re stealing their welfare. They say we’re stealing their jobs. We’ve made them deprived of better life.

I remember how I was made to pay more for my food because of who I am. I remember uncovering a letter of “citizenship confirmation” with my dad’s name on it. Dad said he had to do it because it was compulsory that time. I remember being called names and being whistled at when I’m walking down a street.

Some still accuse us of being snobbish and arrogant because we’re not down-to-earth or in other words refusing to befriend so-called “native” people. Well here’s a shocking truth for you : we’re not. But considering what your so-called brothers in race did to us, it’s natural for us to stay cautious, right?

I moved to Singapore, and ha ha, guess what. I found out that the so-called locals don’t really like us either. “Us” now refers to people who moved to Singapore in search of better place to study, to work, to live. Well how lucky I am to be in the “unwanted” category again?

But ha ha ha. Guess what, Singaporeans. Your government has decided to give me a tuition grant that waived me 60 (that spells SIXTY) percent of my tuition fees, with only condition that requires me to work in any Singapore listed company for 3 years.

I posed this question to Mr. Peter Ho (a member of parliament – sorry I forgot what the exact title of his job is), who came to SMU to deliver a talk titled 4 myths of public service.

“What do you think of the current state, where there are so many migrants coming to Singapore? Do you think it will influence or maybe change public policy in the future?”

It is pretty much a yes-no question, but he answered like this: (paraphrased)

“Well you must remember that Singapore has always been a migrant community. That’s what we’re built upon. So, no, there will be no change whatsoever because Singapore is already a migrant community. I guess Singaporeans must put their emotions aside and accept foreign talents”

So when will Singaporeans, the people born in Singapore, think like Mr Peter Ho? Accept that I, like many other people here, am here not to steal the bowl of rice, but to share it. After all, I believe I and many other people like me are not that evil. We’re thankful of what Singapore has given us. Like, of course, our 60% cut of tuition fees. haha. But really. If I’m asked to give back something to Singapore, I will. It’s not that I’m betraying my country. It’s just being gracious.

I’m pleased to say, though, that I see my current generation is becoming more and more “bonded” together regardless of race or whatever things that differentiate us. I’m glad to say that I mingle easily with Singaporeans, and I have no problem whatsoever communicating to so-called “native” of Indonesia.

Will we see a big change as my current generation grows older? We shall see.. What do you think?

And meanwhile, I’m still confused on which to call home. Maybe I should just call both home. That’d be fair.