Within the span of a few days, I had the pleasure and privilege of experiencing within the boundaries of KL two very different worlds. Although these two worlds are only geographically seperated by a few kilometers, the people living in them, their stories and lifestyle are as different as Seal and Heidi Klum.

The first world I encountered was the world of of the super rich. I was invited to a dinner party hosted by a super-rich. Gentle readers may wonder, who is the super-rich? Super-rich is an arbitary an personal term actually. In the context of this story, it is used to describe people of such status in which they can actually afford a rental of a penthouse they stayed in for the going street price of a Perodua Viva. PER MONTH. I’m sure there are more wealthier people in Malaysia with a different colour Rolls for each day of the week but this was the swankiest apartment I’ve ever been to.

The penthouse is mindbogglingly large, it has a living room, internal and external dining area. It even has a seperate wing (yes, some penthouses DO have seperate wings) for the kids. Attached to the wing is a swimming pool with a view of the Twin Towers and the KL skyline. The kids incidentally were not at home, they were halfway across the world in private schools. The hosts had 2 maids to help clean the place.

Anyhoo, it was a dinner party and I made like Sherlock sans the funny hat and pipe, I began to prowl around the place, gingerly stepping over expensive looking stuffed dead savannah animals, studying and looking at my surrounding and my fellow guests.

Right of the bat, my unparalleled powers of observation and deduction informed me that my host was Indian and the guests were a mixture of all races. I was pleased with myself as any lesser mortal may have missed that.

I flitted (it was more stumbling tbh) among the crowd. From my converstaions with them, their lives; their work, their leisure time, their hobbies and interest involves around activities with a host of other different rich people.

Of note is that there wasn’t any issue of race at all in the equation. For the super-rich, it seems that race is a nonissue, the spirit of 1Malaysia was a gimme here. Apparently, it doesn’t matter if you’re Malay, Indian or Chinese, a Raja Shahriman piece (dude is a famous Malaysian scupltor, I had to google him later after I just nodded sagely pretending to look knowlegeable in the arts when the hosts showed me their art collection around around the place) is still a treasured collectible.

Not the piece my host had, this one was auntioned at Christie's Hong Kong a few years back

My encounter with the second world happened a few days later. A few kilometers away from the lifestyle of the rich and famous penthouse, I had the privilege of talking to some Malay kids who were from the total opposite of the crowd above. 

They used to live in the setinggan (squatters) area near Lembah Pantai but has since relocated to one of the PPR flats. To the uninitaited, the PPR is an acronym for ‘Projek Perumahan Rakyat’, a project initiated by the government a few years back with the aims of providing affordable/low cost housing for people in the lower income bracket.

PPR Housing at Lembah Pantai (courtesy of the Star)

They took me around to their house. Their lives are totally different, they gave me a tour of their home. They have 3 rooms, 2 bathrooms inside the PPR apartment to share with a family of 6. One small room was used as a store area, leaving the family to share the 2 remaining rooms as well as the living area for their sleeping area. They have 1 TV and 1 Astro unit. Dad works but mum stays at home to cook and to take care of the kids. Mum washes all the clothes by hand.  

My new friends in front of their home

The kids went to school via van early in the morning and come back, take a quick shower and went to sekolah agama (religous school) by the same van.

They come back from school after 5, slacked around a bit before watching prime time TV, watching ‘Bionik’ was a particular favourite before going to bed. To put things in perspective, one boy I talked to said that he had only gone to the cinema and watched one movie in his entire life (it was Spiderman III in case you’re curious).  

Being curious, I asked if they had any Chinese or Indian friends. The answer was a resounding no. According to them, there were no Chinese folks at the PPR and they were only a few Indians there, though apparently, they played football together a few times before. 

My friends posing at the playground at the PPR grounds

It was no different in school, they go to an SK which was predominantly Malay. I also found out that their ONLY Chinese contact was the trainee teacher whom they apparently liked very much.  

To me, I was lucky to experience 2 very different part of the city and briefly become part of their vastly different worlds. While I’m glad to report that the spirit of 1Malaysia is very much alive at the upper echelons of society, there seems to be a little more work needed at the opposite end of the spectrum.  

Circumstances have not conspired to present to the boys opportunities to mix and mingle with different people. And I’m sure that there are many others Malays, Chinese, Indians that are in a similar situation.  

At the start of a new year, I’d like to look forward to a brighter future and continued prosperity of our country Malaysia. The events that happened in the last few days has proved to me that apart from the fancy campaigns and events it is the little things in life that would make us 1Malaysia.

It is rather heartening that to the boys I met, the spirit of 1Malaysia can slowly be understood over a kick of a football or by the unsung presence of a trainee teacher at school.