Finding Home in Malaysia’s Diversity
A Volunteer’s Experience in Understanding and Connecting with Malaysia’s Multicultural Society
There is a mood here — the dimmed lights, the comfy leather-upholstered chairs where I’m sitting. Actually, it is nicer to sit at the single tables because the chairs at the larger tables are just made of wood. I am still hungry from breakfast, so I ordered a ham and cheese sandwich. I wanted an espresso, but the combo was with an Americano. I don’t have money. My only option is to use my credit card.
When I was in Malaysia, I would frequent places like this — specialty coffee cafes at the mall with seating in the middle of the hall, edged by an enclosure that made it look like a private privilege.
I would take my bag with my laptop and sketchbook, and paint with oil pastels or write about my experiences, or watch anime. Those were my ‘escape,’ moments where I disconnected from school to reflect on how I was assimilating and integrating into the Dignity school culture, finding a place for myself within Malaysia’s diversity.
I think that’s what made me feel so connected to Malaysia, even as a foreigner — the fact that I could blend in. Not by pseudo-hiding behind my skin color, but rather because the heart and spirit of Malaysia reside in its diverse population, regardless of where people come from.
I heard countless times from my students the way they talked about themselves as part of the country, not as foreigners. Though they were refugees, they understood they had a place within multicultural Malaysia. I did too. That sense of belonging came from possessing a title — my role in the diversity.
Just as my students belonged to the category of refugees, I was given a title: a volunteer. I wasn’t just a tourist, but I wasn’t a permanent resident either. I knew I’d eventually have to leave. However, during the time Malaysia became my home, I felt a sense of belonging unlike anywhere else in the world.
What contributed to this? Apart from skin color, it was the practices, behaviors, and way of life that I saw as similar to both my realities in Chile and the U.S. Malaysia wasn’t more like one or the other, but both.
I could see it in how people bought food, ate at local restaurants, had breakfast at Chinese tea shops, and sold and bought snacks or pastries on the street, right outside the bank or school. That all reminded me of Chile — the way they washed and hung clothes, the respect for elders, and the asymmetry between younger and older generations everywhere.
The modern, gigantic malls, financial district, trendy spots like coffee shops, cinemas, and brand-name clothing stores, and the ever-present AC due to the year-round tropical weather made me feel like I was in the U.S.
I would ride a scooter downtown at least once a week toward the Petronas Towers, where a light show took place every day at sunset. The international airport, the modern MRT subway system, and its connectedness to the world — Kuala Lumpur is Southeast Asia’s hub. The majority of Malaysians speak English fluently.
KL promotes a highly Americanized lifestyle that seamlessly blends with the more traditional local way of life, but it’s the businesses, malls, and modern infrastructure that make this fusion stand out.
Religion plays a significant role in shaping Malaysia. I lived a block away from a Hindu temple, a Buddhist temple, and just a few blocks from a mosque. Everyone celebrated all the festivals, regardless of their religion. The commitment to passing traditions and rituals down through generations was evident in how each group adhered to social and family norms. Intermarriage occurred but was less common.
Even if families weren’t racially diverse, the workplaces certainly were. You’d see Indians, Chinese, Malays, and occasionally Pakistanis, Bangladeshis, or Burmese working together. This sense of diversity and belonging is instilled from a very young age. Parents can choose race-specific schools like Tamil, Chinese, or Malay schools, but there are also many schools with instruction in English or Malay where all races are represented.
Living conditions can vary greatly, from basic homes with squat toilets, curtain doors, and outdoor kitchens, to modern high-rise apartments with water filters (as the water isn’t potable in Malaysia), infinity pools, and gyms. Most KL residents own cars, though the public transport system is impeccable — better than Santiago’s. In KL, you can find old, stripped-down flats next to massive, modern buildings.
“The best way to learn about a multicultural society is to study many cultures”
As a teacher, I had to be knowledgeable about cultural customs and traditions, and be sensitive to the differences in students’ communication styles, behavior, and personalities. Although they all shared the commonality of living in Malaysia, they came from different cultural families.
A teacher must become a cultural mediator between home and school. Success as a teacher isn’t just measured by grades but by how well you understand and meet the specific needs of all students, fostering a cohesive, respectful, and curious group that wants to learn from each other.
Challenges inevitably arose in the classroom. I once made the mistake of grouping male students with girls for a class activity. The girls, especially the Muslim students wearing hijab, felt uncomfortable. I hadn’t read the room right and should have anticipated that.
One of my students often confused new people because he was Indian but had been adopted by Chinese parents, so he spoke Chinese at home, not Tamil as expected.
Some of my students struggled with understanding the value of education. They came from families where formal education wasn’t prioritized, and working to contribute to the household was seen as a better use of their time. I worked hard to instill in them the importance of education — especially given the high standards they were receiving.
At the Dignity for Children Foundation, all education is conducted in English, starting from playgroup. Refugees who arrive at the school often have to adapt to classes that don’t match their age level due to their limited English proficiency.
The school offers two tracks: one academic for the most English-proficient students, and a skills-based program. While both tracks include English and math, the skills-based program focuses on practical training, such as working in a café, a hair salon, sewing, or at a wood workshop. Teachers help place students in real-world internships with the hope that these experiences lead to permanent employment.
On the other hand, the academic track follows the British A-Levels curriculum, preparing students for pre-university programs and further academic advancement.
Students often saw teachers as sources of trust and guidance. Many would tell me about the hardships they faced at home. I remember Eishan, a student from Pakistan, who would bring only a plain piece of roti — an Indian flatbread — for lunch. Many students bought lunch from nearby food stalls or mamaks.
Once, I found a student sitting alone in the classroom during lunch, and when I asked if they had eaten, they told me they “had no money for lunch.” My heart tore apart. Lunch wasn’t even expensive — maybe five to ten ringgit, one or two dollars.
Malaysia is a true gem, and I’ve used every moment of my experience there not only to learn about the country I came to call home but also to discover more about myself through the lens of its rich diversity.
