Over Christmas, I spent most the time with Lee's family and I had the opportunity to meet his only two nieces. Before I arrived, I thought it would be nice to bring presents from home (the typical Filipino pasalubong =P) for his family, so I asked Lee what I should get his nieces. He told me not to bother because they wouldn't even know the gifts were from us. Of course, I didn't understand what he meant until we arrived at his brother's house.

What shocked me was the excess of toys which the two girls (ages four and six) owned. They had a playroom, bigger than my bedroom back home, filled with toys I never had in my whole lifetime. From a collection of dresses to all the different dolls you'd find in a toy store multiplied by two, and even their own television! To perturb me further, the presents sitting underneath the Christmas tree that overflowed across their living room, were just for the two girls. After lunch, their dad sorted out the presents with much showmanship, while the two girls, their mother and grandmother (not Lee's mum of course) were shrieking in glee at which girl had the most presents. About 90% of which were from their mum and dad. At that point I felt dizzily sick.

Is this what the difference was between a developed country and a "third world" one? Not that we didn't have a comfortable life in Malaysia and there aren't any excesses. I've only ever seen people throwing money around, especially during Chinese New Year, just never like this.

Having grown up with a Filipino mom made my exposure to unfortunate kids very real. She would curb any excesses by packing up my old clothes and toys every now and then, and send them off to charities or relatives in the Philippines who had none. She would remind me, amidst my tears, that I was luckier than them because I had two Barbie dolls, while some girls had none.

It was the same with food. Mum would nag me about not finishing my food or not eating the dishes she's cooked. Her voice was beginning to surface in my head more and more now while I'm here. Especially every time Lee threw something out that was "left out too long" or that expired and we had barely touched it. It seemed pretty common since it's just the two of us at home, and things go bad quickly if you had too many things in the pantry. My heart weighed guiltily every time he'd throw out a half drunk bottle of milk after expiry, or half a dish of noodles which I couldn't finish (dishes here are twice the size I'm used to). It just seemed like there was no consciousness of saving or having things in moderation.

Of late, I've found myself trying to cook food in the fridge nearing expiration quickly so they won't go to waste. Or if Lee and I were shopping for groceries, I'd hold back on perishables if I know I won't be eating them in the week. Besides, we're right next to Woollys, I could always go next door to buy something I needed anytime.

As much as some of these excesses can be translated to kindness in certain cases, I'm just not sure how to reconcile with it.