Collaborator coloum from niki@thestar.com.my



TALKING to my sister over the past few weeks, since she went to Western Australia, has brought back a lot of memories to me. I have been constantly entertaining thoughts of going back there to further my studies since I left in 2002, but have found neither the right time, nor the opportunity.

Yet, the times I had over there – both happy and sad – remain among the best in my life.

Moving to Australia was the first time I had left home. Sure, I had been gone for days and even weeks at a time on holidays and camps, but packing your clothes, and boxes of Maggi noodles, is something else altogether.

Yet, I was excited at the prospect, and was looking forward to it tremendously ? until I got there, at least.

My first few weeks were, in one word, miserable. Not only was I homesick and missing my family, I had few friends there and basically not much to do.

I recall that when I was lecturing at a local educational institution a few years ago, I met several students – some foreign and some from out of state – feeling the same way. Some of my colleagues, and friends, were not so sympathetic.

“They have to get a grip,” some said. “Get used to it.”

To me, it is easier said than done. Lots of people have gone overseas to further their studies, and surviving those few years should not be much of an achievement. Or should it?

While some people just get on with their lives and assimilate, I had more problems. Perhaps it was because I was so close to my family, or I had an emotional problem, that it was a very difficult time for me.

Of course, over the course of my stay, things got progressively better and I came to fall in love with the city and its people. To be honest, I even forgot what a miserable time my first few weeks had been until my friends, who were merely acquaintances back then, reminded me about it.

“You hated Perth,” my friend Paul told me a couple of years back. “You were whining and whinging the whole time about how you missed home, and how you would never fit in.”

I suppose I was. But faith, I suppose, pulled me through. For one, I started to make lots of friends to the point where I had categories for them. I had my housemates (my only Malaysian friends), my hockey buddies, my student union colleagues, classmates (who were all from different countries) and my clubbing friends whom I saw only twice a week (half-intoxicated).

I probably got so busy hanging out with all these people that there was no time for misery.

It also helped that I had an Internet connection. That way, I was always in touch with my family – even my mother jumped on the MSN Messenger bandwagon. It is with great regret that, as I write this, I realise I could have been the factor that started her addiction to the Internet.

Sure, there were turbulent times in between. I struggled with my studies at times, I fell out with some friends and there were one or two break-ups in between, but the support I had from my friends and family pulled me through.

I was adventurous, too. I would go travelling with friends or attend every other carnival that happened. I went out drinking on many nights and built some friendships in drunken stupor.

Recently, I was introduced to this online website called Facebook.com, which is basically a community-based portal where you can connect with your existing friends (and make new ones). Within three days, I had more than a hundred friends – all of whom were people I had befriended over the past few years.

It is scary how we are all interconnected (most of the time, you find another friend on the site through mutual friends) and how everyone is a friend of a friend. “Incestuous”, I believe, was the word my close Aussie friend Kate used. It is amazing how, after years of losing contact, we can pick up where we left off.

I do not know when I will return to Western Australia, or go anywhere else for that matter, to pursue my studies (yes, “Dr Cheong” sounds awfully appealing). But I am looking forward to that day, even the misery, because – excuse me for sounding corny – things can only get better when you are at your lowest.

It will be rough, yes, but with a little optimism, faith and love, I believe that all will be well.//Niki Cheong.