MIRI, MALAYSIA — We awake from our post-training slumber at 6:30 a.m. for an activity unlike any of the team-building exercises we have experienced so far. This is only the first week of training for the Fulbright Program here. There are nearly 100 of us on this waterfall hike, braving the rain and humidity together to swim in one of Malaysia’s hidden pools.
I have never been on a hike with such a large group of people. All of us going at the same time makes it difficult for even the most experienced hikers to get into a rhythm. The steep, undulating slopes and towering cliffs keep us moving at a turtlelike pace. Tall grasses and deep puddles of mud begrime our clothing. One after another, I see someone slip, fall and be brought back up by the person following right behind.
Once the pools are in our line of sight, I join the group in running to dive in. Without a doubt, few things bring people closer together than jumping into waterfall pools after falling in mud and getting swarmed by bloodsucking leeches.
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Two weeks later, I can say that the hike symbolizes what I expect my experience in Malaysia to be. Transitioning into an unfamiliar community and workplace presents some of the most challenging obstacles I have ever faced. I’ve traded a high-rise Chicago cubicle for a desk in a scorching, dilapidated classroom in Miri, and I will spend the next nine months figuring out how much of an impact I can have on these students’ lives.
This experience is forcing me to re-examine my own Southeast Asia roots in a community similar to the ones of my parents’ origins. I'm beginning to embrace my upbringing and background in ways I never have before. In the past, I was forced to alter my identity and become detached from my culture to fit in. Here, I'm learning to embrace being different.
These students and faculty may have expected a blond-haired, blue-eyed English teaching assistant, a perspective shaped by their exposure to Western culture. I’ve yet to receive the red-carpet treatment or incessant gift-giving that some of the white members of my cohort have experienced. But I’ve made it a priority to emphasize my identity as a first-generation Filipino-American, the son of immigrants, the first to be raised within and to graduate in the United States, an American mentor who looks like them. In both their physical characteristics and youthful exuberance, I see younger versions of myself and my cousins. Thus, despite whatever stumbles happen along this journey, I must remember that the waterfalls at the end of the trek will make it all worthwhile.
Editor’s note:
Illinois alumnus Daniel Santos is a Fulbright English teaching assistant at a high school in Miri, Malaysia. A first-generation Filipino-American, he earned B.S. degrees in accountancy and management in May 2017 as a James Scholar in the Gies College of Business.
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