The English-educated Chinese in Malaysia are dying out, and that could be a good thing.

I am what many Malaysians would call a banana: Chinese, but more proficient in English.

To others, I’m not “banana” enough, because by some freak of geography and luck, I can converse badly in Mandarin and in a rare form of Hokkien, the northern version spoken in Penang. But that doesn’t mean I’m Chinese enough for the Chinese-educated, who still firmly consider me a banana because I can’t read well, nor have I read the Chinese classics. So I exist in a weird in-between place.

But I think it’s a good thing. It has enabled me to see perspectives from both sides. And I really think it’s a privileged position to be highly educated in English and middling in Chinese education.

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The Divide

Note: Malaysia’s education system is… complex. You can choose to go to vernacular schools where you are taught in either Chinese or Tamil, or you can choose to attend national schools (English and Malay) or international schools (mostly English).

For the longest time, I come from a generation of Chinese who thought that Chinese education was inferior. My mother used to tell me that if I was educated in a Chinese school, I would turn out different or think differently. Just how differently, I’m never sure, but there’s no denying the gap between English-educated and Chinese-educated Chinese.

It takes a lot of brains, effort, and motivation to burst out of these educational bubbles. As an English-educated Chinese, it’s rare for someone like me to learn Mandarin on my own. In Chinese-educated circles, you probably need a family that speaks fluent English and an interest in anything Western to escape the Chinese cultural bubble.

As a result, some Chinese are so Chinese-centric that they only have Chinese friends, work in Chinese places, speak Chinese 98% of the time, and consume only Chinese media. On the other end, we have Chinese bananas who dwell only in English-speaking spaces, consume English media and have friends who speak in English.

I remember a time when consuming Western media and its narratives meant you ended up mirroring them—often awkwardly, especially when you’re Chinese and don’t realize these narratives might work against you. Yet, for some reason, you still support them.

Take 2008, during the Beijing Olympic Games. I had two banana friends with wildly different reactions. One was enormously proud to be Chinese because of what he saw on TV. The other wore Tiananmen Square T-shirts to work every day and took every opportunity to remind everyone that the Chinese government violates human rights. I sat somewhere in the middle, confused by it all, because I exist in both worlds. I understand Mandarin and Chinese perspectives, and I understand Western perspectives, but I don’t know exactly who to choose. So I didn’t choose anyone.

One friend loves to speak French as often as she can, as if to show off how Francophile she is: I can speak French. I lived in France. I had a French boyfriend.

The other was learning Mandarin. I look at this and think: This is what it’s like being a Chinese diaspora, conflicted between two things. I realized this is what it’s like being a Chinese banana—divorced from your culture and not knowing how or where to stand.

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Roots: The Peranakan Story

Watch this documentary above to understand the creole culture of the Peranakans or the Baba Nyonyas. These are my people. ☝️

In many ways, I’m the same, but not torn between the West or China. I’m an unique: My ancestors are Peranakans—imagine the Creoles of Louisiana, and you’ll get the idea. This is the Malaysian version.

Peranakans came to Malaysia in three waves. The first was during Admiral Zheng He’s time, at the height of the Ming Dynasty in the 15th century. Between 1405 and 1403 AD the legendary admiral traveled the South China Sea, Indian Ocean, and East African coast by ship. Malacca was one of his ports of call.

Legend has it that he brought a princess who married the Sultan of Malacca, and from there descended the Peranakans. She brought a retinue of people who stayed, intermarried, and created a culture that was a mix of Malay, Chinese, and—believe it or not—British. Yes, British, because the Peranakans were Anglophiles. We adopted English dining habits, and our children were educated in English missionary schools. My family had a strong tradition of sending their kids to these schools.

When you come from this background, what is cultural purity? I don’t understand it. All this talk about being “100% more Chinese” or more this or more that doesn’t make sense to me, because I come from a culture that happily adopted all kinds of cultural tidbits from various places.

My ancestors were part of the second wave of Peranakans in Penang. During the fall of the Ming Dynasty around the late 17th century, many Chinese, mostly men, fled to Malaya. They intermarried with local Malay women, and many didn’t stay in Malaya. T

They were sea merchants, often leaving home to do business abroad, which explains why Peranakan culture is very matriarchal. The women ruled the house, and the men went out to find work. I descend from these people. I am essentially mixed race, though it’s been many centuries. I look 100% Chinese, but my DNA will probably says otherwise.

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Why Bananas Are Fading

So why do I say it’s a good thing that bananas are dying out in Malaysia? Bananas have always consumed so much Western media. Due to the language barrier, they don’t understand their Chinese side much. They don’t get the narratives as much. But now, many Malaysian Chinese families—including banana families—are sending their children to Chinese schools.

I spoke to a Chinese banana friend who came from a banana family but was sent to a Chinese school. He honestly said he hated being educated in the Chinese school system, probably because he was a banana. There was a cultural clash. But today, he’s able to read in Chinese and converse fluently in Mandarin. I envy him. Although I have good listening skills, my speaking is still shit. When I speak, I’m so afraid because my tongue keeps tripping over itself from lack of practice. I’m not as fluent as he is. I envy his ability to bridge both cultures without effort. I want to be him.

The Ideal Future

Ideally, the next generation of Chinese in Malaysia will be fluent in Chinese but also retain the ability to understand the West, like the bananas did. Of course, the danger is that they might end up leaning too much to one side—like being so pro-China that they forget other narratives exist.

That’s why I say it’s maybe a good thing. The status quo wasn’t working well for the Chinese community. Having the Chinese community divided into English-educated and Chinese-educated wasn’t fun. When you’re like me, somewhere in the middle, it’s very odd.

The Chinese-educated looked down on the bananas. The bananas looked down on the Chinese-educated, while secretly probably envying each other. Back then, the Chinese-educated were more envious of us, because English was the dominant business language of the world, so they felt at a disadvantage. But now it’s the other way around.

Interestingly, more non-Chinese parents are sending their children to Chinese schools.