从餐桌开始的对话：Dari Dapur如何以美食打破对外籍劳工的偏见 Conversations That Begin at the Table: How Dari Dapur Uses Food to Challenge Prejudice Against Migrant Workers

在日常生活里，美食常常成为人与人之间最自然的连接点。一道看似平凡的料理，既能开启新的话题，也承载着个人与社区的细微故事。

余岸鹏（Elroi Yee）是Dari Dapur的创办人之一。从2023年开始，他与潘思翎（Puah Sze Ning）就开始了Dari Dapur这个计划，旨在利用食物带出马来西亚外劳和难民的故事。在投身社会企业之前，Elroi就已经深切体会到马来西亚民众对外籍劳工的复杂态度。

记者生涯中的沉思与转变

Elroi 曾是一名调查记者，多年来持续深入关注外籍劳工与难民群体，长期报导他们在马来西亚所面临的结构性困境。然而，在多年实践中，他逐渐意识到一个令人沮丧的现实：无论他在报导中如何努力说服公众——引用详实的数据、采访相关领域的专家，或是让外籍劳工与难民亲自讲述自身经历——社交媒体上的舆论，依然充斥着对这些“外来者”的负面评论与敌意。

为此，他开始寻找一个新的方式来呈现难民和外籍劳工的故事。而有一次他偶然吃到了缅甸一种名为Balachaung的辣椒，其好吃程度让Elroi都有些许上瘾，就在那时他就有了一个灵感，自己是不是可以用食物带出这些难民和外劳的故事？

“我想以一个不同的方式讲述他们的故事，一种通过共同点吸引人们的方式。”

以美食为媒介：沟通与共鸣的起点

我们在构思 Dari Dapur 这个概念时，思考的是：究竟有什么东西能让马来西亚人感到共同的骄傲，而且超越种族与族群的界线？答案其实很简单——美食。

Elroi 认为，外籍劳工远道而来，往往经历过许多创伤。他们的个人经历通常都较为私密，想深入了解时较容易受到抗拒。而这个时候，美食就成了能打破隔阂的“万能钥匙”。与马来西亚人一样，这些外籍劳工对自己的家乡食物感到非常骄傲，并乐于分享。Dari Dapur 通过食物制造共鸣，让马来西亚社会能更好地接受这些“外来者”。

初期，Dari Dapur 主要以记录食谱为主——先介绍美食，再借此引出背后的迁移故事。到了后期，他们开始邀请马来西亚的知名人士到难民或外籍劳工的家中，一起用餐、聊天，用更轻松、人性化的方式呈现这些故事。

Elroi 发现，当双方坐下来边品尝美食边交流时，总能自然而然地找到共同点——无论是家庭、孩子，还是梦想——而这些共通之处也自然而然地连接到他们的迁移经历。同时，他也注意到，相比在新闻标题中直接标注“难民”或“外劳”，以食物为切入点的方式更容易获得正面回应，负面评论则显著减少。

后来，Dari Dapur 开始频繁与学生合作举办活动。他们希望为年轻人打造一个能够与这些群体直接交流的空间——在同一张餐桌上用餐、聊天，并在交流中逐渐认识彼此。毕竟，唯有在充分了解之后，人们才有可能重新审视既有的印象，进而松动甚至消除长期存在的偏见。

家人：所有迁移故事的共同动力

Dari Dapur 至今已拍摄了八集与移民群体一起用餐的视频，并举办了近 20 场活动。他们发现，这些远道而来的人都有一个共同点：对家人的思念。

他们和我们一样，都是有情感的人类。无论是为了逃避战乱、政局问题，还是为了赚钱养家，他们都不会忘记自己的家庭。Elroi 认为，外籍劳工的故事与马来西亚华人多年前来此谋生的经历有着惊人的相似性。

“如果当时我的曾祖父从广东或广西来的时候，以现在的标准来说，我的曾祖父可能是难民吧，但那时候就是没有这样的概念。他逃了过来，在这里找工作，找吃。”

为此，他鼓励每个人反思自己的历史。

这些从外地来的人，尤其是难民，往往是在没有选择的情况下才来到马来西亚。他们寻求的可能是安稳、谋生，甚至是追求梦想。唯一的不同，只是他们没有我国的身份证。因此，Elroi在看到他们时，往往只会觉得看到了自己的故事，他也鼓励大家看到难民或外劳时，可以多认识他们，从他们的生活中看到自己的故事。

食物的迁移与演变：创造“新马来西亚美食”

Elroi 观察到一个有趣的现象，马来西亚周边的国家似乎都有自己的“Laksa”。这种以鱼汤、香料和面条为主的烹饪方式在东南亚地区意外地普遍。这些食物放到马来西亚的环境中并不陌生，只是融入了他们独有的文化。就比如缅甸有Mohinga, 柬埔寨有Nom Banh Chok, 马来西亚和印尼也有各式各样的Laksa.

我们现在习以为常的美食，都经历了各自的迁移故事，在不同地方融合了不同的文化，最终才得以成为“马来西亚美食”，成为代表我们的象征。就像 Nasi Lemak 原本是从印尼过来的，或是华人的肉骨茶和辣汤，都是经过了这里的环境演变出来的。

当外来者尝试制作他们熟悉的食物时，必然会先适应马来西亚的材料和环境并作出改良。那么，他们是不是也在创造着新一代的马来西亚美食呢？

食物的非凡意义：力量、身份与连接

对这些外籍人士而言，食物的意义远不止果腹。它是一种力量，支撑着他们，也给予他们希望与机会。Elroi分享了一些故事：有一位克钦族的朋友常常会在多种传统克钦美食放入一种叫magram的材料，他也曾经为Dari Dapur团队煮菜时用了他已故母亲从缅甸寄给他的最后一包；一位叙利亚妈妈因为无法找工作，通过 YouTube 学习烹饪，最终靠餐饮工作在马来西亚生存，并成功移居加拿大。食物对于他们，是转机的象征，也是与故土、与家人的情感连接。

食物也代表着他们的身份，或是与自己社区的连接。就像住在马来西亚的客家人，可能会向外国人推荐 Nasi Lemak，但最让自己觉得熟悉的依旧是酿豆腐。虽然你身处马来西亚，拥有马来西亚人的身份，但你同时也保有客家人的身份，而食物便成为了这些不同身份的象征与表达方式。

这些食物即使因环境限制无法百分之百还原，但它们依旧是这些外来者身份的代表，承载着他们的记忆、思念，以及与社区、国家的连接。

In everyday life, food often becomes one of the most natural bridges between people. A seemingly ordinary dish can spark conversation while quietly carrying the intimate stories of individuals and communities.

Yee Ngan Pang, also known as Elroi Yee, is one of the founders of Dari Dapur. Since 2023, he and Puah Sze Ning have been developing this initiative, which uses food as a medium to tell the stories of migrant workers and refugees in Malaysia. Long before venturing into social entrepreneurship, Elroi had already become deeply familiar with the complex and often ambivalent attitudes Malaysians hold toward foreign labour.

Reflections and Shifts from a Journalist’s Career

Elroi was once an investigative journalist who spent years reporting on migrant workers and refugees, consistently highlighting the structural challenges they face in Malaysia. Over time, however, he began to confront a discouraging reality: no matter how carefully his reports were constructed, supported by data, expert interviews, or first-hand testimonies from migrants themselves, public discourse on social media remained saturated with hostility and negative stereotypes toward these so-called “outsiders.”

This prompted him to search for a different way to tell their stories.

One day, Elroi gets a chance to try balachaung, a type of Burmese chilli condiment. Its flavour left such a strong impression on him that it sparked an idea: could food become a way to open conversations about the lives of refugees and migrant workers?

“I wanted to tell their stories differently, one that people might find easier to accept.”

Food as a Medium: A Starting Point for Communication and Empathy

When conceptualising Dari Dapur, the team asked a simple but crucial question: what is something Malaysians collectively take pride in, something that transcends ethnic and cultural boundaries? The answer was clear: food.

Elroi observes that migrant workers often arrive in Malaysia carrying deep personal trauma. Their life stories are private and sensitive, and direct questioning can easily be met with resistance. Food, however, becomes a “master key” that unlocks trust. Like Malaysians, migrant workers take pride in the food of their homeland and are often eager to share it. Through food, Dari Dapur creates points of resonance that allow Malaysian society to approach these “outsiders” with greater openness.

In its early stages, Dari Dapur focused on documenting recipes—introducing a dish first, then gradually unfolding the migration story behind it. Later, the project began inviting well-known Malaysians into the homes of refugees or migrant workers to share meals and conversations. These encounters offered a more relaxed, humane way of presenting their stories.

Elroi noticed that once people sat down together to eat and talk, common ground emerged naturally: family, children,and aspirations. These shared themes often led organically to discussions about migration. He also observed a significant shift in public response: when stories were framed through food rather than headlines explicitly labelled “refugees” or “migrant workers,” positive engagement increased, while hostile comments noticeably declined.

Eventually, Dari Dapur began collaborating frequently with students, organising events that created spaces for young people to interact directly with these communities. By sharing meals at the same table, participants could talk, listen, and slowly come to understand one another. After all, only through understanding can long-held assumptions be questioned, softened, or dismantled.

Family: The Common Thread in All Migration Stories

To date, Dari Dapur has produced eight videos featuring shared meals with migrant communities and has organised nearly twenty events. Through these encounters, one recurring theme consistently emerges: longing for family.

“If we bring Malaysians to talk with migrant workers or refugees, the conversation will always end up being about family. I think everyone can see that whatever we do in life, it ultimately comes back to family, whether it’s returning home or thinking about our loved ones. That’s the motivation for everyone.”

Like anyone else, these migrants are deeply emotional beings. Whether they fled war, political instability, or came simply to earn a living, family remains central to their lives. Elroi sees striking parallels between their stories and the migration histories of Malaysian Chinese generations ago.

“If my great-grandfather came from Guangdong or Guangxi under today’s standards, he might be considered a refugee. Back then, that label didn’t exist. He fled, found work, and found food here.”

For Elroi, this comparison is an invitation for reflection.

Many of those who arrive in Malaysia, especially refugees, do so with little choice. They seek stability, survival, or even the chance to pursue a dream. The only real difference, he says, is that they do not possess Malaysian identity cards. When Elroi encounters them, he often feels he is seeing fragments of his own family’s past. He encourages others to do the same, to look beyond labels and recognise shared histories in the lives of migrant workers and refugees.

The Migration and Transformation of Food: Creating “New Malaysian Cuisine”

Elroi also observes an intriguing culinary pattern: many countries around Malaysia have their own version of laksa. This style of cooking, based on fish, spices, and noodles is surprisingly widespread across Southeast Asia. These dishes feel familiar in Malaysia, even though each carries the cultural imprint of its origin. Myanmar has mohinga, Cambodia has nom banh chok, while Malaysia and Indonesia boast countless variations of laksa.

Many foods now considered “Malaysian” are themselves the result of migration—shaped by different cultures, ingredients, and environments over time. Nasi lemak traces its roots to Indonesia, while dishes like bak kut teh and spicy Chinese soups evolved within the Malaysian context.

When newcomers cook familiar dishes in Malaysia, they inevitably adapt to local ingredients and conditions. In doing so, are they not also creating a new generation of Malaysian cuisine?

The Extraordinary Meaning of Food: Strength, Identity, and Connection

For migrant communities, food is far more than sustenance. It is a source of strength, hope, and opportunity. Elroi shares several stories: a Burmese friend who always adds an ingredient called magram to his cooking, the last packet his late mother ever sent him from Myanmar; a Syrian mother who, unable to find employment, taught herself to cook through YouTube, eventually sustaining her family through food in Malaysia and later resettling successfully in Canada.

For them, food represents a turning point: a tangible link to home and family.

Food also signifies identity and belonging. Just as a Hakka Malaysian might recommend nasi lemak to foreigners, yet feel the deepest sense of familiarity with yong tau foo, individuals often carry multiple identities at once. Food becomes a way to express and navigate these layered identities.

“We all carry many identities. In different situations, different identities come to the surface. We move through life with all of them. Perhaps food works the same way; it’s a way of expressing who we are.”

Even when ingredients are substituted or flavours altered by circumstance, these dishes remain powerful symbols of identity for migrants. They carry memory, longing, and an enduring connection to community, to homeland, and to the place they now inhabit.