But, honestly, that's pretty much where all my Chinese-ness ends; it's literally just skin-deep. I barely speak any Chinese. The little that I do is Mandarin, no dialect to speak of (pun very much intended). Mostly I know names of food and some Cantonese swear words, picked up from the guys on the basketball court who scream them all the time.
For Siviks, we had this little fashion show thing, and we were supposed to wear traditional clothes. Since I have none, I borrowed Sarah's mom's cheongsam.
(Picture from Syahrul.)
It's just sad, I guess, how estranged I am from my culture. A lot of people are, really. People are taking culture cues from the West and forgetting their roots completely, and it's so sad. We have so much more diversity over here, but everyone's growing to be the same. Everyone.
So lift your face
The Western way, babe
Build your muscle as your body decays
(Hammer to Fall by Queen)
Sigh. Well, the good news is, nothing's gonna make us Malaysians part with our amazing food. Curry mee, anyone?