public enemy

i started the day with a drive to breakfast. i was meeting someone, and had let them choose the location. the place is one i like very much, but which has also been bothering me lately that it is semi-halal. this means they do not server pork, but are happy to serve alcohol. i parked the car next to my favorite pork place, and considered trying to change locations. instead i decided on changing the equation.

as i was driving over i was surfing my music collection. i heard a song a week ago and listened to it over and over, but for days i have not been able to remember the song or the artist. i have an aching desire to hear a song i cannot identify. i feel the song, i have emotional clues, but i cannot put my finger on the button. as i surfed i came to a group i know did not sing the song, but i could not resist selecting them anyway.

public enemy is a sound that is clearly not malaysian. they were the original black-power hip hop group, now known as one of the top 50 influential groups of all time. pe brought us chuck d and flavor flav who broke onto the white american cultural scene when featured in spike lee’s “do the right thing”. “fight the power”, “bring the noise” and “don’t believe the hype” were the perfect mood enhancer as i drove. it was a mood to flex my amercian nature, and lyrics like:

“turn up the radio
they claim that i'm a criminal
by now i wonder how
some people never know
the enemy could be their friend”

were just what i needed.

so i dropped into my pork restaurant, i got a takeaway and carried it to my semi-halal breakfast location. as i walked in i stopped and talked to the waiter who calls me “brother. i told him i was bringing in my own sausage to see if it would be an issue. he just smiled and said “okay”. i walked to the table and sat with my treasure in a bag on the table.

we ordered and were served, pancakes and coffee, which for the first time in 4 years now had the correct meat to accompany them. bacon provided the salty taste needed to cut the bitter of the espresso and the sweet of the pancakes. i felt satisfied and happy with my ability to solve the nagging issue of merging american standards into malaysian expat breakfast locations. i had gone the extra step to allow my morning to satisfy. the world was a happy place.

until i noticed that my partner was not eating the sausage i have seen her enjoy in the past. i asked why and got an evasive answer. i asked more directly, “are you not eating because you think it’s wrong to bring pork to a semi-halal place?”. this time i got the truthful, “yes, i guess so”.

some details that might help paint this picture:

• the bacon was in a container, and wrapped in a bag, no one could see the meat without standing over the table
• i was eating with my fingers, directly from the container to not contaminate the dishes or silverware.
• i had told the staff, and if they had told me not to bring it in, i would not have because i consider them friends.
• i believe the food restriction is generically dumb , and specifically does not cover a challenged catholic
• the place is only semi-halal, if malays can drink here then i should be able to eat pork

the next hour of debate over my openly flaunting the rules was what most political debates are, unsatisfying. i openly confessed to breaking the rules, and although i tried to equate myself to mahatma ghandi, i came off feeling more self-centered than the political reformer i was attempting to imitate.

the breakfast ended with us going our own ways. the day would be one of reflection. somehow was i transported back to the early 1980s, in church and being told why things i knew were right were not and that i should know better. i was not breaking a law, i was trying to be respectful, but i simply wanted to eat what i wanted to eat. i was again told that my issue is that i want to do things i want to do, again with the clear implication that i should not.

i had become my own version of a public enemy. i was considered dangerous and controversial; for trying to have a meal that i considered complete. no one around us complained, the staff did not object, but acting in a manner to demand freedom was very unsettling for someone who does not get upset about most things.

in malaysia, political corruption is tolerated, pirate dvds are openly sold, human trafficking is hardly noticed; but smuggling pork into a semi-halal breakfast spot is the breaking point. not criminal, but something i should be embarrassed about. how does this conditioning happen? how can this country be fixed if no one demands freedom? how can corruption be eliminated if we don’t stop walking on egg shells, and say when things are unfair.

fight the power.

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the song i could not remember is “i can’t get no, satisfaction” the version by the spin doctors.

its a bonus track on “you’ve got to believe in something” both album and song title could clearly be used in a blog of the future.

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