You don’t have to go far to see yourself clearly
By Rafidah Lani
The journey from Universiti Malaya (UM) in Kuala Lumpur to the National University of Singapore (NUS) is, geographically speaking, a short flight or a patient crawl across the Causeway. For an early academic scientist, it is a transition between two of the region’s most prestigious “Ivory Towers.” At home, I reside in a world-class institution ranked 58th in the QS World University Rankings, a position of immense pride and responsibility. Yet, stepping into NUS, currently holding the number 8 spot globally, feels like a literal and metaphorical leap. It is a jump from the top tier into the stratosphere.
And it is this leap and the mirror it holds up to my own professional identity and unspoken assumptions that has triggered a deep, quiet transformation. On the surface, the shift feels seamless. We share a history, a penchant for acronyms, a tropical humidity that defies all tailoring, and a culinary debate over the origins of laksa that will likely outlive us all.
However, as I settle into my six-month stint as a visiting research fellow at Kent Ridge, I have realized that it is precisely this similarity that makes the experience so psychologically potent. When you move to a radically different culture (say, from KL to Copenhagen) the culture shock acts like a sledgehammer. You expect things to be different, so you shield your core identity. But when you move to a place that feels like a parallel-universe home, the differences are not hammers, they are mirrors. Living in a country with a similar ethical and cultural bedrock allows for a unique vantage point: the outside looking in.
In the bustling labs of UM, my identity as a scientist was inextricably linked to the Malaysian context, a blend of relational harmony, navigating specific institutional bureaucracies, and a certain make-do ingenuity. Upon arriving at NUS, I found myself in an environment that values many of the same things but prioritizes them in a different hierarchy. The subtle contrast forces a question: Which of my habits are actually mine, and which were simply adaptations to the environment I left behind?
In Singapore, the pace is a metronome set several beats faster. The “Singaporean way” often emphasizes hyper-efficiency and rigid adherence to systems. By navigating this, I have gained self-concept clarity. I have had to distinguish which parts of my work ethic are truly me; my innate curiosity, my specific approach to data, and which were cultural defaults; like my tendency to prioritize consensus over speed. This clarity is a gift, it allows me to strip away the autopilot version of myself and see the scientist I am when the external expectations are recalibrated.
We often operate on an unconscious default regarding our values. In Malaysia, we might value budi (grace/character) and social cohesion. In Singapore, those same values exist, but they are often filtered through the lens of meritocracy and pragmatic excellence. During my fellowship, I have found myself reflecting on the why behind my professional ethics. For example, how do I handle a failed experiment?
At UM, my response might be shaped by a specific social safety net of colleagues. At NUS, the response might be driven by a structured protocol for pivoting. By observing these subtle shifts, my identity has moved from a default setting to a conscious choice. I am no longer just Malaysian or UM-trained by happenstance. I am choosing which values to lean into. I see the value in Singapore’s precision, but I also find myself consciously reaffirming my commitment to the more fluid, relational mentorship style I grew up with. I am not just absorbing a new culture, I am editing my own.
Psychologically, our brains rely on social metaphors to navigate the world. Even a slightly different frame can cause a massive paradigm shift. In Singapore, there is a prominent metaphor of the “Global City-State”, a sense that because resources are scarce, excellence is the only currency. This manifests in the lab as an incredible intensity in seeking international collaboration and high-impact publishing.
In Malaysia, our metaphor is often more centred on nation building, how our science serves the specific, diverse needs of our local community. Neither is better, but the exposure to the Singaporean frame has shifted my brain’s internal gears. It has made me more open to new concepts of impact. I have begun to look at my research through a more global lens, not because I have to, but because the metaphor of the global hub has become a temporary part of my mental architecture. This shift allows me to see my work at UM not just as a local necessity, but as a potential piece of a global puzzle.
The most significant outcome of this mirror effect is the clarity it provides for the future. A six-month fellowship is a long time to be away, but a short time to stay. The looming date of my return to UM acts as a catalyst for strategic life decisions. Because I have spent this time distinguishing my identity from my environment and consciously choosing my values, I am not going back to KL as the same person who left. I am returning with a values-aligned career strategy.
I can now see which UM processes are vital to our culture and which ones are just the way we have always done it, allowing me to propose more effective changes. I have a clearer vision of the kind of mentor I want to be: one who combines the warmth of the Malaysian academic tradition with the rigorous clarity I have practiced at NUS. My research goals are no longer just a reaction to the available grants, but a proactive choice based on the paradigm shift I experienced here.
We often think that to find ourselves, we must travel to the other side of the world, to a place where we do not speak the language or know the customs. But for the academic, there is a profound, perhaps even greater, value in the near-peer experience. Singapore has been my mirror. By being the outside looking in on a culture so similar to my own, I have been forced to look at myself with unprecedented honesty.
I will return to UM not just with new data and new collaborators, but with a clearer sense of purpose. I have learned that you don’t need a radical change in scenery to have a radical change in perspective. Sometimes, you just need to stand a few hundred kilometers away and look back at the reflection.
Dr. Rafidah Lani is a Senior Lecturer at the Department of Medical Microbiology, Faculty of Medicine, and an Associate Researcher at the Ungku Aziz Centre for Development Studies, UM. She may be contacted at rafidahl@um.edu.my