About being an Indonesian expat in Malaysia

Last week I decided to open a bank account for my payroll needs. So, I went to the nearest regional bank to process a new account opening. The customer service recognized me as a foreigner and was asking for my passport. Luckily, Val had already told me what to bring, so I was fully prepared with my expat ID card, passport and Letter of Appointment from my institution. I handed my passport and my expat ID card to her. So, the customer service was asking a lot of questions and examining my passport until the smallest details. She was also checking all the visas in it, and said that I have been quite to some places in Asia. I just smiled. Then, she was asking about the company I work with, the address, the field of work, designation and others. I answered all of her questions. She was not really speaking nicely while asking questions and I felt more like I was being interrogated. She called to my office to reconfirm about my status in the institution. She was also looking to the passport picture and tried to compare with my real look several times. From her expression, I could see that she doubted me. She asked why do I want to open a bank account. Well, that’s funny, I thought, of course I want to have my salary posted in that account! Later on, she asked for the document from the institution. So, I handed her my LoA where my salary is stated. Then soon after she saw the amount of my salary, she started to speak nicer to me and even put a smile on her face. This was just ridiculous for me, but I said nothing. Just smiled [again].

Maybe she figured out my thought, because soon after, she explained, “It is very rarely to see Indonesian expatriate here in Malaysia. Especially in a such young age like you. Most of Indonesians are domestic worker or construction worker. And you’ve got a good amount of payment here. You must be a very important person and well-selected one. I’m impressed!” Well, so am I! I am totally impressed [in a bad way] with her statement. Seemed like, in her head, the only room for Indonesian is to be domestic worker or construction worker! That is quite an inhuman statement, I guess. But then again, I said nothing. Just smiled [again]. I felt like a champion after I completed the whole process.

When I told my friends in the office about this, they were all upset. Discrimination. That was the first word that came out. Well, it was some sort of discrimination and stereotyping one nationality. But at the end of the day I was glad I had that experience. At least I showed the people in that bank that Indonesians are not always domestic worker or construction worker in Malaysia.