by JayasankaranKK
People will believe anything if you whisper it. That’s a sentiment first expressed by The Anything Whisperer. Or it might have been Ripley of Believe-It-Or-Not fame. Unfortunately, neither is true because I made it up.
I made it up because I wanted to illustrate the power of words. So long as they exist, words have a power, in and of themselves, to compel belief.
If that’s true, then a number of made-in-Malaysia phrases have just obtained that mystique. Indeed, some inimitable Malaysian expressions and food names have made it into the latest edition of the Oxford English Dictionary (OED).
The OED is the main historical dictionary of the English language. Published by Oxford University Press, the 225-year-old lexicon continually introduces new words, through global usage, which ultimately enriches the language.
Going forward, it will mean the modern-day Malaysian Archimedes will one day have his Alamak moment. Loosely translated, that’s a “By Jove, I’ve got it!” flash.
Oxford, however, translates it as “an exclamation expressing surprise, shock, dismay or outrage.”
Several local food names have been added to English, including ketupat (in use from 1886) and otak-otak (1929). Ketupat is the diamond-shaped rice cake that usually accompanies satay (grilled meat on skewers), while otak-otak is steamed spiced fish with coconut milk. How the fish dish got its name is a mystery.
Otak-otak means “brains.” Maybe it was a colonial invention. After all, Bertie Wooster, a character so dim-witted he had to be a colonial, attributed his manservant Jeeves’ intelligence to all things fishy: “He’s very smart: he eats a lot of fish.”
Other items making the cut were nasi lemak and kaya toast. Both dishes are also claimed by Singapore – but it would, wouldn’t it?
Half-boiled eggs (1931) is also surprisingly described as a Malaysian breakfast dish. The idea that no Englishman ever thought of briefly cooking two eggs in boiling water before tucking into their salted and peppered contents with some toast and coffee beggars belief. You begin to understand why the chip is the only English contribution to haute cuisine.
Tapau (1997) or “takeaway food” has also made the cut. Other items include the Anglicised “fish head curry” and “steamboat” (1960). While the latter has other Asian variants (the Japanese shabu-shabu, for example), fish-head curry (1972) can be said to be a Malaysian original, which is surprising: the thought of eating the head of a fish might be repellent to the English but surely not to the Japanese.
Mat Rempit, our version of motorcycle menaces, is now an English term meaning “young men involved in illegal racing.” What should be tacked on to that is this: “They are generally a curry short of a puff and a leading cause of stress to other motorists.”
To the chagrin of US Homeland Security, “terror” has also made the cut, as in “Wah, he so terror-one.” That’s fluent Manglish for “He’s very cool.” OED has described it as an adjective meaning either “terrible” or, conversely, “admirable, even excellent.”
We’d advise strongly against its use in any Western airport, though.
WE