190: 2.4 The White House

"Pakcik, tengok rumah ni besar nya! Ada security guard langsung, macam muzium! (Uncle, look at this huge house! They even have a security guard of their own, its like a museum!)"

It was a hot day several years ago, it hadn't rained for a couple of days now. My father's driver was driving me from central Kuala Lumpur back home. Enroute, we passed a house that looked like a mansion. I remember it being white, huge pillars guarded its entrance. Its gate was tall, iron-like structures complete with an outhouse for the guards to rest in. It was then when I made the statement above. I continued on telling him how it made my house look small in comparison.

"Tapi rumah Ayne pon besar (But Ayne, your house is also big)," he replied.
"Ye la, tapi tak sebesar ni! (Yes, but not as big as this!)"
"Tapi rumah Ayne bungalow, banyak bilik, ada ruang untuk kereta juga. Besar la tu! (But your house is a bungalow with many rooms and space to park cars. Your house is big!)"

I stopped to think, and acknowledged the truth in his statement. Yes, my house was not as big as this house/ library like structure but it is still large compared to many houses - even compared to many of our neighbours' houses. It made me realise that one's outlook really depends on one's vantage point. Looking upstream, you can be reminded at how little you have in life in comparison. But if you turn and look downstream, that can provide a completely different picture all together.

Suddenly, things that you take for granted, like a private porch to park multiple cars safely, look like a luxury not afforded by the masses. And things like having a large living area and a separate dining area just for eating together with family become things to be extra grateful for.

Growing up, my close friends were somewhat from similar backgrounds to myself. Our parents were educated and were working in professional fields, being chauffeured by drivers was a normality, elaborate birthday parties were held practically every month and holidays overseas was something we all did during school holidays. As a child, I was never aware of any other version of life. It was only in high school that I was aware that there were cars where their windows had to be manually cranked open rather than opened by simply pressing a button. To say that I lived a life of privilege is a definite understatement.

Thankfully age has afforded me with more clarity. The rose tinted glasses that I once saw the world with is now off. And the ugly, inequitable reality of the world has become increasingly apparent. The fact that social mobility upwards is more the exception than the rule, and how wealth seems to always be concentrated to the elite minority pains me. How money seems to open doors of opportunity, education, power and health. And how I could live my life not worrying about ever losing the roof over my head, but at the same time, my neighbours might be silently worried about losing theirs.

I am still in the midst of internally figuring this complicated world that we live in today. But in every process of change, the first step is always the realisation of a problem - and boy, do we have a problem!