My third day or so at school I was hanging out at the “Bilik Guru” (Teacher’s Room) and eating fried banana with some of the male teachers.They asked me if I wanted to join them on a fishing and camping trip the next weekend. Without knowing much about the trip and to their amazement, I said yes. I asked them if I needed to bring anything along and they replied no. I asked the same question several times over the next couple of days and received the same answer. So I really only brought a swimsuit and a flashlight.
The morning of the trip comes and it has been pouring non-stop. They pick me up, as they repeatedly state that “rain not good, sir”. We drive for about an hour with the Malaysian radio barely loud enough to be heard over the rain. We pull over and the driver tells me to follow him. You learn pretty early on in Malaysia to not ask any questions and just go with the flow. I get out, and sit down at a table in a small shop on the side of the road. The male teachers pull out their cigarettes and light them simultaneously. The shop owner brought us some fried banana, which seems to be a favorite among the teachers. They needed something to cheer them up, as they wore their disappointment evidently. After a few minutes of heated discussion in Malay, one of the teachers turned to me and said “Plan B, ok?” Not that I had much choice in the matter, I nodded my head. I was along for the ride, whatever that may be.
We get back in the truck and start driving for another 30 minutes before we turn up a gravel-filled road. The rain hasn't stopped. The road leads us deeper into the jungle until we cross a bridge barely appearing above the water. The trucks pull over next to the river and it seems we had finally reached our campsite after a lot of rain and driving. Luckily, the rain had lightened up right when we arrived. During this respite, we got out and quickly set up camp, which started with putting up a huge tarp over our heads by tying it to near by trees.
As soon as we were done setting up, they all grabbed their fishing poles and nets and went down to the river. On his first try throwing out the net, a teacher was able to catch two fish. Happy with his returns, he allowed me to give it a go. Much to their amusement, I was not so lucky. Later on I realized how misplaced my embarrassment was when the only fish the group caught the entire trip were the first two.
Word had gotten around that one of my “hobbies” was swimming. Teachers started to challenge me to a race and even some bets were made. I changed into my swim suit, hopped into the river, and mistakingly took three butterfly strokes. Literally, all bets were off after that. At least I got to watch as they “attempted” to copy my stroke. During all of this, the water level of the river was steadily rising to point where it had submerged the bridge.
As we were sitting down for some dinner that night, the water level dropped below the bridge. Cars were finally able to cross. Apparently, they had been stuck for the last several hours between the bridge and another low point near the river that was flooded. The three cars pulled in right next to our site. They exited, exchanged some pleasantries with the teachers, and sat down with us for dinner. Dinner lasted about 45 minutes with my teacher’s friends. Once we were done eating, the guests said their goodbyes, and drove away. I was confused, I assumed they were spending the night camping with us.
I asked one of the teachers where their friends were going. “They are going back home and we are not friends.”
I was shocked. This family wanted to take a day trip to go fishing at the river, ended up getting stuck and it was too late for them to go fishing once they had finally reached the river. However, the teachers welcomed the complete strangers into our campsite and gave them food. They had not eaten in hours and needed some food before their drive home. It seemed like they had known each other for years…
The teachers could tell I was amazed. This was commonplace for them. “In Malaysia, we take care of each other. In America?” I shook my head and stated that this would rarely happen. The next question caught me off guard: “Is Islamophobia a problem in America? Would we be welcomed in America?”
I could not lie to them.
It was incredibly embarrassing to tell people who had just welcomed complete strangers over for dinner that they themselves would not be welcome in America. Yes, a large part of America would be happy to have them visit and might wave at them as they cross the street. However, there is still a significant portion of people in America that would make my teachers feel uncomfortable and unwelcome. It is a lot safer right now for me to travel to Malaysia than for them to travel to America.There is a vaccine for Japanese encephalitis. There is no vaccine for Islamophobia.
The last thing we should be doing as a country right now is building a wall. We should be welcoming people over for dinner, learning from each other, and moving forward together. Not separate. Maybe with the 5 billion dollars we seemingly have in surplus, we should be paying to send people over to rural Malaysia to go camping with Muslims.
I am by no means immune to Islamophobia. When I found out I was placed in Terengganu, which is 95+% Muslim, I was freaking out. Would I be able to last a year surrounded by people vastly different than me? Could I survive in such a “conservative” (whatever that means) environment?
As a Fulbrighter, I feel like I was sent to Malaysia to show how awesome America is. And don’t get me wrong, there are a lot of parts of our culture worth sharing. But it is just as necessary to share the not so tasty parts. Both are important and help paint an accurate picture of today’s America.
Although we didn't really catch any fish, it was certainly a memorable trip and a great way to cap off my first week in Terengganu. I am eternally grateful for how welcoming my new kampung has been!
