Bersih 2.0: A brief memoir from a Klang Valley Chinese
Saturday 9th July 2011, 9am. Lawrence called to ask if I am going to Bersih.
Several imageries flashed through my mind: what if I ended up injured, maimed or dead?
I said yes and we schedule to meet at KL Sentral at 10.30am
Lawrence was waiting for me inside McDonald's, Canis was there too. I felt relieved seeing them.
We sat at McDonald's waiting for Cornelius. I had my Big Breakfast, while they were reading magazines and sipping coffee as if this was any other day.
I asked Canis if he was afraid. He told me "Yes, a little." I too acknowledge my fear. He gave me a smile of encouragement and said, "You will be prouder of yourself after this." I smiled back.
It was already close to noon and there was no sign of Cornelius. Twitter reports police are stepping up on security at KL Sentral. Sure enough we saw an army of them marching right outside of McDonald's. The air was tense. "We have to go NOW" I insisted and we took the LRT to Pasar Seni.
Pasar Seni was unusually crowded. People were in hiking gear - running shoes, comfy-looking tee, track bottoms, backpack - acting nonchalant in groups of threes and fours, reading the day's paper, looking at the time, texting, looking at the time - a dead-giveaway.
We walked to Petaling Street.
The vicinity of Central Market was unusually quiet. It was the calm before the storm.
We arrived at Petaling Street. Most shops were closed save for some.
"Cel!", a familiar voice called out to me and I realised it was Esther my ex-college mate from HELP. I was so happy to see another familiar face. "Hey!" I said, we hugged. We introduced our friends and each other. Esther asked, "Why are you here?" I smiled cheekily and said, "To exercise my constitutional right to assemble."
We were in the middle of Petaling Street. There were excitement and anxiety buzzing in the air. I see mostly middle-class Chinese. I thought to myself this is Petaling Street after all.
Lawrence alerted us that there was a group of ralliers approaching from across the road. There was already a crowd congregating at the exit of Petaling Street with cameras on standby. Could they be Umno's Patriots? We held our breath. The ralliers were now a mere 50 meters away and we can hear their rally cries: "Bersih, bersih! Hidup bersih!" The ralliers walked right through the yellow do-not-cross line. We cheered.
Esther and I hesitated to join the ralliers. Lawrence was already ahead signalling us to join him. We knew it would be safer to be part of the rally crowd than to rally on our own, so we went with the flow.
We walked the streets of Kotaraya. We - not just Esther and I but Malaysians young and old, of all ethnic groups and social class. We were there in the middle of the road, our grandfather's forefather's road. The atmosphere was electric and surreal.
What was more surreal was the fact that there were a good number of middle-class looking Chinese who were amongst the crowd. They were what you would call the Klang Valley Chinese whom you would find them shopping at malls like OneUtama, furniture-browsing at IKEA and spend lazy afternoons sipping Illy coffee at Delicious. To me they would be the most unlikely ralliers but they were here. Instead of huddling in the comforts of their homes waiting for the rally to end, they chose to participate. I was very proud of them.
Along the way I bumped into Shi-Lynn - a new friend whom I met at that very morning at Taman Bahagia LRT Station; she was with her friends in "hiking gear" and I tactless enquired: "Are you guys going for the rally?" To which she lifted the edge of her tank a little to reveal something yellow underneath and promptly replied with a straight: "No." - and Patricia, Raymond, Jamie, Andrew and Kenny; it was really comforting to see familiar faces.
We arrived at Menara Maybank. The crowd was ENORMOUS! There were lots of cheering and chanting. Some danced with broom heads, others held/wore/waved Bersih's iconic yellow tee and several others embellish each other with yellow Bersih ribbons and stickers. It looked like at least 10,000 were there. There I was in the middle of it all taking in the experience.
Esther took out her windbreaker and put it on - it's a safety precaution just in case she got water-cannoned. She also brought bicarbonate soda and two towels soaked in vinegar to counter the effects of teargas, to which she offered me one -just in time when the FRU fired the first of many teargas canisters. There was anxiety but at the same time the crowd was very collected as they try to move away as quickly as possible from the teargas which was spreading fast. The atmosphere was thick with tension. I tried capturing a photo. "OMG, Cel run!" "They have started using water cannons. Run!", Esther pleaded.
We ran. I held on to Esther's hand and weaved through the crowd, our only objective was to get away from the tear gas and we found ourselves at the back alley of the shops facing Puduraya. We slowed down as we were now at a safe distance. We walked towards Tung Shin hospital.
We gathered outside Tung Shin. Dark clouds were hovering above us. We prayed for rain, hoping that this would weaken the effects of teargas should there be any upcoming attacks. The rain came. So did the teargas! We ran again, this time we sought refuge within the compound of Tung Shin hospital. Contrary to our belief the rain did not help minimize the effects of teargas, rather it made it worse. The teargas was corrosive, my face stung, my eyes water and my throat burned. We took cover under one of the sheds at the hospital. It was there we met Arif whom we shared the shed with. Esther, Kenny and I introduced ourselves. Arif was sharing a small bag of salt with his friends and he asks us if we brought any. We told him we brought no salt and without hesitation he offered his bag of salt to us and promptly advised us to apply it around the areas of our eyes, parts of our face which burned and on the roof of our mouths. The remedy worked! The relief was almost immediate. In a matter-of-fact manner Arif told me to keep the bag of salt and give it to whoever that needs it.
I was a little taken aback at this unexpected generosity, especially during these times of need.
BOOM! BOOM! I saw with my eyes teargas canisters, perhaps the size of fire extinguishers shot through the air and into the hospital. "RUN!" I yelled. The crowd panic but still everyone was very aware of one another and trying their best to take care of each other, there was no pushing or shoving - everyone was very civilized.
Just some perspective, despite all the chaos it was more civilized than a Zara warehouse sale.
We were now at the back of the hospital. We have arrived at a dead-end, there was no way out. Surrounding us were hilly slopes and tall walls which separates Tung Shin from its neighbor. The police will soon catch up.
Then I notice there were people walking up the hilly slopes forming a queue and it seems that an entrepreneurial rallier have an escape route! Esther and I joined the queue. The hilly slopes were very slippery due to the rain and we had to be very careful. It came to my turn and there was a Pak cik next to me. I smiled at him and said, "Pak cik you naik dulu." Without hesitation he said, "Tak apa, you naik dulu." and promptly helped me climb over the wall and there was an Abang on the other side who received me with a warm smile. For about what it seems like a good five minutes I couldn't find a firm footing as it was another slippery slopey terrain. The Abang held my hand and was very patient and enouraging and he moved the strand of barb wire away so that I may land safely. I slipped and landed on my butt, thankfully on soft muddy ground. I gave out a laugh and promptly got up to let him know I am fine save for my muddied clothes. The Abang gave me a quick smile and went on to help the next person.
There was another hill for us to climb. "Leng chai!", a young Chinese chap called out to me and extended his hand. We got onto the hill and then over a metal fence and climbed up another hill again.
We were at Nan Kai school. We bade goodbye to Kenny. It seems that the crowd was dispersing too. It was just trickles of us now walking along Jalan Ceylon, where we met Alroy - he is Malaysian but working in Singapore and he made a point to come to Bersih - he told us he was beaten by the police and thankfully he managed to escape. It is heartbreaking to know that the very ones who were suppose to protect is the ones that you need to be protected from.
We walked towards Masjid Jamek and right ahead of us we see trails of people, like ants marching towards a common destination. We stopped our tracks at the cross-junction right before the Masjid Jamek LRT Station and loitered at the sidewalks as there were police personnel forming a human barricade to prevent anyone from passing through. Seemingly out of nowhere we hear chants and a river of ralliers march closer and closer and right through the human barricade made by the police. Esther and I merged with the river.
We marched walked towards KLCC singing Rasa Sayang. Frankly it was more similar to a walk than to a march - totally uncoordinated, brisk, with songs, laughter and much amusement. There was a police helicopter hovering above us, some waved, some jeered but it was all in the name of harmless fun. There were police keeping watch along the roads, some ralliers went to them and shook hands.
Walking amongst the crowd allowed me to speak to some of the other ralliers, whom I've found to have come from as far as Kedah.
20 minutes later we arrived at the intersection of KLCC. We were now a sea of people. There were cheers. There were chants. We sat down. We stood up. We sang Negaraku and it was the most meaningful Negaraku I have ever sung in my entire years of living. Once again the police came. It was already 4pm and we dispersed.
The day after, I was at Starbucks. I was browsing YouTube for videos of Bersih and I stumbled upon one which made a montage out of all the Bersih events around the world; Malaysia, Taiwan, Singapore, London, Adelaide, Melbourne.
I cried because I am moved by the solidarity shown by Malaysians all over the world. I cried because for the first time in my life I felt Malaysian, I felt counted, I felt a part of the country. I cried because I put myself in the shoes of the Malaysian diaspora and I thought to myself who would choose to be in another country other than their own - the very one that they were born in - if their talents were appreciated, if the leaders were upright and if they had police who gave the Rakyat a sense of security and not fear?
My experience at Bersih has changed my opinion about my country. I now know for sure that despite ethnic differences Malaysians can live in harmony but more than that we are capable of achieving so much together.
I know that Malaysians are a nation of well-mannered citizens who are gentle in action but firm in their stance.
I know that despite what the media says about our tidak apa attitude, Malaysians actually care for one another.
I know that I want to give this nation a second chance.
