Disclaimer : This post is not indicative of the lifestyle of every single matriculation student. Maybe I was just really unlucky.
When I was in matriculation a year or so ago, I used to post quite an embarrassing number of pathetic rants on Facebook on how I wish I was anywhere but there. As a result there were quite a few people who asked me whether it was really that bad. So here I am, more than a year later to recount my (incredibly confusing) experience in a government college.
For the uninitiated, the Malaysian government provides a foundation programme for SPM (Sijil Pelajaran Malaysia, the Malaysian equivalent of O-Levels) leavers. One applies for this program by buying a unique PIN number at BSN (the local bank) and using that number to access the online application. A successful application would be reciprocated with an acceptance letter preceded by an online announcement. If the application is unsuccessful, one gets to submit a plea for reconsideration. Completion of this program guarantees a place in a government uni for your degree (but not necessarily the one of your choice).
Now here is where it gets tricky. I suppose that I'm probably breaking some kind of sedition law or whatever (cause seriously almost everything is seditious in Malaysia) but the truth is there is preference for bumiputera (which means basically means Malays). This would mean that non-bumiputeras (non-Malays) have to fight to get in. I met many Malay students with a rich assortment of C's and D's whereas the rest of us had to fight with our A's to get in. I am dead serious when I say the total number of Indian students in my college barely filled a lecture hall. At this point some of you might be thinking I'm being racist or whatever, but call a spade a spade. Results play a role in securing you a place, definitely, but so does your status. And that's how it was. And to be honest, it feels unfair that the non-Malays have to work incredibly hard to fight for a place when Malays who have less than stellar results are approved just because of who they are. I think it's plain open racism. But what do I know?
Having been approved for second intake, I was only informed of my acceptance a few weeks after the term had already begun. So with a lot of rushing and barely enough time to breathe (I had just completed National Service a month or so before, but that's another story) I was bundled to a place I had never heard of in my relatively short life. Here's the thing; most matriculation campuses are placed in the middle of nowhere. That's exactly where I was. NOWHERE. The campus was surrounded by trees and we were frequently visited by terrifying insects, curious monkeys and occasional gang of wild boars (I'm not sure what the collective noun is, but wild boars look mean, hence the word 'gang').
I'll begin by describing the life. You wake up everyday to attend class at 8pm, and class ends at around 4-5pm (sometimes 6). It's crazily hectic, running from one corner to another to attend classes in a pretty big campus. You're not allowed to be in your room during this period, even if you're sick. Oh yeah, about clothing. Boys are expected to wear formal shirts and ties ALL DAY. Seriously though it's not attractive to see them sweating like a croc hunter at the end of the day but I suppose they can't help it.
I want to begin a whole new paragraph just for girls. Oh yes. We're expected to wear the Malay traditional clothing for girls, which is the baju kurung (long sleeved blouse which falls way below the knees and a long skirt). Now if I were to literally translate, baju means clothes and kurung means imprison. This is literally what this outfit does. Can you possibly imagine running around in the blazing tropical Malaysian sun wearing a long blouse and skirt? Chafed thighs were incredibly common for one not blessed with the legendary thigh gap such as yours truly. And also the fact that the skirt only allows your legs to open to a certain fraction, exceeding which you'd fall flat on your face. In fact whenever I thought no one was looking (or didn't really care) I would hitch it up to above my knees and dash around. Come on, I could barely walk in that thing. Formal clothes were allowed too but with a zillion rules. Not too tight pants (for God's sake, Malaysian girls have booty, everything looks 'tight'!!), not too short sleeves (at the elbows), collared, buttoned and covered shoes.
You may think this is ridiculous on its own, but I'm far from done. In most colleges (mine started this ruling the year after I left, thank goodness) we're only allowed to leave campus on one day of the weekend. And yes, much like the Stone Age, boys and girls were not allowed to go out on the same day, where boys could only leave on Saturday and girls only on Sunday. This is (I assume) to prevent immoral activities. HAH. Yeah that works. This is a pain in the ass all on its own as not only was our freedom to make friends severely inhibited, it messed up with certain plans such as Christian guys wouldn't be able to attend church as they were only allowed out on Saturday. But like I said I never faced this as this rule began only after I left. Curfew was at 6pm SHARP, after which the guards (who were serious a-holes) denied entry to stragglers who had the audacity to somehow telepathically control the town bus resulting in late arrivals to campus.
We are patted down and questioned like detainees on death row. I even know of friends who complained that the guards picked through their food by hand to search for illegal substances (yeah, hash noodles are the new hash brownies). And the most infuriating part is the guards are extremely rude and violating. I was once made to walk back to my hostel (about 100m away and up 4 floors) just to change to a baju kurung as I was wearing slacks and a collared button-down shirt. Apparently that's a real turn-on. I soon resorted to wearing jeans and t-shirts underneath a baju kurung, removing it the mall toilet. I remember this one time when I was withdrawing money from the ATM near the guardhouse when it began raining heavily. It's a long walk to my hostel and there's no shade whatsoever. I waited at the guard house for the rain to subside but it only got heavier. Instead of offering me an umbrella or anything, they just sat and LAUGHED as I ran back to my hostel wearing a white shirt. Deduce as necessary. Also they seemed to relish being moral police despite openly (and actually quite disgustingly) flirting with students. I can't tell you the amount of times I was having a casual conversation with a group of guys when a guard would appear out of nowhere and force us to adjourn. Remember kids, talking gets you pregnant.
The cafes in the campuses are mainly Malay cuisine and I experienced food poisoning more times than I'm proud of. Cats lick off dirty plates that students dump in a huge wash basin. Cats sit and beg food from customers. Cats roam around the kitchen. CATS ARE EVERYWHERE. Especially for me I was placed in a hostel block which had a truly horrible cafe. Therefore I made friends which a bunch of dudes which gave me license to eat in the boys' hostel cafe without any awkwardness. Seriously consider living on nothing but biscuits. The food is completely without variety and really you just wanna throw up after a few months. We get a weekend off once a month and for me, it takes 2 bus rides and 7 hours to reach home. Eventually I gave up on coming home and just stayed the weekend in my hostel. I couldn't face spending almost a full day just travelling and barely spending time with my family.
Finally, the people. My first semester in matriculation was nothing short of torture. I had come in late, and I had missed fundamental lessons and was suffering to get through. I knew nobody and nobody approached me as I was the 'new girl'. I sat alone at the back of classes feeling extremely upset that I wasn't getting along with anybody. Fact is being a little later than the others I felt extremely dumb because everything seemed like Greek to me and I was embarrassed to approach anyone. I later found out that I also somehow appear intimidating and arrogant at first sight. Well. The resting bitchface isn't a good look for anyone. It didn't help that to disguise my nervousness I wore a lot of eyeliner and scowled at people. The only people I spoke to in my first semester were my roommates and my classmate Daniel (I know you're reading, I mentioned you. Happy?) However due to certain events that transpired I was forced to widen my circle of friends in the second semester which made me tear down my own walls and forge new friendships. It was extremely difficult for me and I honestly admit that it was one of the lowest I've been. I'm glad to say that my efforts paid off and I'm still friends with some of my matriculation batchmates to this day.
Lecturers were quite a bittersweet pill to swallow. Being alone and depressed, lectures held absolutely no appeal for me until I experienced my first Biology lecture. My lecturer was a young woman (whom I thought was a student at first haha) and honestly she had my heart right from the get-go. Her lectures were extremely interesting and they were the highlight of my week. I had hated Biology in school but suddenly I was in love with the subject due to the excellent teaching methods employed by my lecturer. In addition I had a wonderful Biology tutor as well who pushed me so hard to get my first A in matriculation. Together these two amazing lecturers cultivated my love for the subject and restored my faith in the education system (you know what I mean). And today I'm a medical student. But not all lecturers were that awesome. For example I was always a source of exasperation for my English lecturer. I kinda got the impression that she hated my guts. On my part, as a self-proclaimed grammar Nazi I was also frequently pissed with her English which included sentences like 'please sit scatteredly', 'our class on tomorrow', and a zillion other phrases which grated on me like nails on a blackboard. And she was quite blatant about not liking me too by openly humiliating me in class and telling me that I would never ace the Malaysian University English Test. (Guess who ended up being top in the class for English. Take that!)
Many people are under the (false) impression that matriculation is easy. It's not. Not only are we thrust in the middle of nowhere, with barely any vacations, and sickening WiFi and a zillion mundane rules which everyone upholds like gospel, the syllabus itself is no joke. When put together the pressure will possibly send you off your rocker. You will also find yourself in the company of wild tigers who have no intention of helping you do anything and will do whatever it takes to tear you down. I've had too many unpleasant experiences to tell you that it is one I would never want to repeat again despite having met so many amazing people. I have definitely grown and matured, but I sure hope that anyone who wishes to undergo this program does the appropriate research and think hard and wise beforehand.
And that I guess is the sad story written at 2 am.
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