let lemons be angry

Let me explain why I like the malays in Singapore.

I can't help but see that malays are the best-dressed on the island. I'm not talking about thousand-dollar bags and Missoni, I mean that their clothes have themes, inspirations, thought, a specific culture or era that they channel. That is why they separate into different cliques: ska, punk, skinheads, retro etc, and they live it up accordingly with the music and threads to fit. Compare that with the Chinese, who either flock about in surf clothes or tank tops with low-riders from zara or mango or topshop. Don't get me started on couples wearing matching puremilk t-shirts. And then there are those who spend a useless fortune on bebe and balenciaga, when they would have done better by simply getting their hair dried in the morning before they stepped out of the house. Girls with wet hair is my number one pet peeve. So far only the chinese girls are guilty of this.

Secondly, the malays are a community. I've seen the same large group at gigs and flea markets. Everybody knows everybody, it's a giant picnic. This is joined to my next point:

Exhibitionism. Every racial group has its own kind of exhibitionism, but the kind in question is very crucial. The malays sing and dance and shout and it's hilarious. I find myself utterly depressed, however, by the exhibitionism of the chinese, with their boisterous beer-guzzling and angmohfied loud laughing sessions, dirty dancing that involves ungraceful shaking and excessive touching of one's hair even if one is not the slightest bit hot, and worst of all, loud and proud singaporean talk in foreign countries.

And yet with all their song and dance, the malays know that being on the train is a very different thing that calls for consideration and propriety. Their children (always chubby and adorable and properly dressed) sit properly and laugh to themselves, and if they get too loud, they're shushed. Chinese children (watery and sloppy), however, threaten to take the whole train over by swinging round the poles, clambering over the seats with their slippers on, and doing the most grotesque things like holding burping contests. If i wanted to kidnap a child, I would most certainly never kidnap a Chinese child. I would kidnap a little Malay girl or boy with luscious curls and a good sense of humour.

I am not done yet; there are plenty other things. Just to justify this seemingly racist post, I am one hundred percent Chinese, and I did not make a single observation up.