Hello, Malaysia. My name is Jordan MacVay and I am Muslim. Dina Zaman has asked me to write something for her column, so I'd like to talk about asking questions. In fact, I'm going to start with a question for you: when you see me holding hands with my Malay wife, what do you think?

Come on, I know you've seen us. Maybe not us, but I know you've seen people like us: Malay women with Mat Sallehs. I know some of you roll your eyes because you know the story: boy meets girl; boy thinks girl is cute because she's small and pretty and a little exotic and has that hitam manis skin colour that a lot of Mat Sallehs seem to like; boy and girl fall in love and decide they'd like to get married; girl tells boy he'll have to become a Muslim in order to marry her; boy thinks what the heck, I just need to recite a few things, put on a show for the in-laws and all that; boy and girl get married, and celebrate with beer and pork chops. Or maybe boy and girl don't get married because boy doesn't want to convert, but they stay together anyway and live a life filled with sin. Another fine young Malay woman led astray by a Mat Salleh, tricked into eternal damnation by his white skin, blue eyes and big wallet. Is that what you think when you see us together?

No? Good.

We're still not kosher

It's great that there are people out there who don't judge others harshly at first sight without knowing anything about them. But you know, unfortunately there are still plenty of people who think ill of people like my wife and me. Sometimes they throw disapproving stares our way; sometimes they make little comments, or maybe they ask each other questions like, "Eh, tak malu ke, minah ni?"

The problem is that these people ask all the wrong questions. Or maybe they don't ask questions at all, because they think they already have the answers. For me, questions are important. I've been asking questions all my life, and despite what some people would have me believe I think it's important to continue asking questions.

Anyone who took the time to ask Leen and me the right questions would find out that by the time I met her - we met online when she was studying dentistry at a Canadian university - I had already spent much of my life engaged in a sincere search for truth and had already asked a lot of questions, and I already had some awareness that the answers to many of my questions could be found in Islam.

I'd been raised a Christian, but I wasn't satisfied with the 'truths' that were presented to me. Something compelled me to keep asking questions, to keep searching. My search led me to the doors of so many religions and philosophies. Each time I would peer inside, hoping to see that simple truth, that golden light that would invite me in and make me feel at home. But each time all I saw was clutter, the arbitrary elements and cultural practices that people tend to cover religions with until you can't see their simple beauty, like centuries of grime on a beautiful mural that someone lovingly painted on some ancient wall. It was the same with Islam at first, but over time some of the grime was slowly lifted away and I could see the vibrant, simple, beautiful monotheism I'd been searching for.

I didn't dive into Islam headfirst with my eyes shut tight, though. No, I went in cautiously, even after I met Leen. I had a lot of difficult questions for her, and we had many discussions and debates about the rules and rituals of Islam. What's up with the headscarf? What do all those Arabic words mean that you use when you pray? What do you mean you don't know? Why do you say this? Why do you say that? Is this necessary? In terms of theology I knew I'd found what I was looking for, but when it came to the rules and rituals it was difficult for me to separate the grime from the glory, and that meant I still had questions.

Sure, we were physically attracted to each other too. It just so happens that I do go for that small, pretty, exotic, hitam manis look. But my growing interest in Islam - and her role in guiding me towards it - brought us closer together than mere physical attraction ever could. Two months after we met I converted - or reverted, as many like to say - to Islam. The following year, exactly a year, a month, a week, and a day after Leen and I met, we were married by a scholar named Dr. Jamal Badawi in my mother's living room.

Conversion and marriage didn't make the questions go away, so I just kept asking them. Why am I suddenly required to believe that my entire family is going to hell? Why should I choose one of Sunni Islam's four schools of thought and follow it exclusively? Why is it suddenly forbidden for me to ask questions just because I'm not a scholar? Leen continued to help me and guide me; I also landed at Dr. Badawi's office door on more than one occasion looking for reasonable answers to difficult questions.

Through it all, however, the best guidance came from within, and from above. It was my faith that got me through the hard times and kept me going. Faith gave me strength when my friends put beer in front of me because they didn't believe I had actually quit drinking. Faith gave me the willpower to make it through an entire month of fasting for my first Ramadhan as a Muslim just four months after my conversion. Faith gave me the courage to show up on my father's doorstep after nine years without contact. Faith kept me cool-headed when some smartass kid in a passing car threw a bottle at Leen because she was wearing a headscarf shortly after Sept. 11th. Faith helped me deal with the many questions from family, friends and colleagues, particularly the tough questions that came after the Sept. 11th attacks. Faith saw me through when I was diagnosed with testicular cancer less than a year after getting married and had to endure the treatments and far worse, the uncertainties.

Sure it was tough but...

Sure, I had doubts, which continue to pop up occasionally. But like the Spanish philosopher Unamuno once said, "Faith without doubt is dead faith." I've never stopped asking questions, but the more questions I ask, the stronger my faith becomes.

I needed that faith when I moved to Malaysia. Hey, you might be thinking by now, why is he going on about faith? Isn't this article about what it's like to be a white guy married to a Malay woman? Good question. Well the thing is, I just want people to see the roles that sincere faith and true love both played in getting my wife and me to where we are now, or wherever it is that you see us. I won't deny that there are some couples that fit the 'beer and pork chops' description I gave earlier, nor would I expect everyone who lays eyes on us to assume that either of us is a paragon of piety. I'm certainly not perfect, nor will I sing the praises of every other revert (I know one Malay woman who was abandoned by her Mat Salleh husband and left to raise their baby alone). But I do get rattled when people pass negative judgements on our morals, our intentions, or our relationship based on their preconceived ideas of what Mat Sallehs and the Malay women with them are all about.

Two of our most memorable experiences happened within a few days of each other during the month of Ramadhan in 2005. One evening as were leaving our friends' condo in KL - he's Canadian, she's Malaysian, and yes they're married - a police officer saw us and said to one of the security guards, " Eh, bulan puasa pun nak buat !" (During fasting month, they sin!) I didn't hear him say it, which is good because a night in a Malaysian jail has never been on my list of things to experience. But Leen heard it and was pretty upset.

A few days later Leen and I went to break our fast at a restaurant in a local shopping centre and as we stepped off the escalator two young Malay guys made almost exactly the same comment the cop had made, only they threw in a snipe at the fact that we were holding hands. This time Leen turned around and angrily yelled, " Dah kawin, lah!!! " (We're already married!) I had to restrain myself from going after them and asking them the same questions I wanted to ask that cop and anyone else who would make stupid comments: what were we doing that was so wrong? Why would they assume that we weren't married, and that Leen was just some bohsia girl who hung out with horny Mat Sallehs? What were they thinking?

After those incidents we thought it would be helpful to get special T-shirts made; we snickered at the thought of walking around KL wearing T-shirts that read, WE'RE MARRIED, F#&K OFF or something to that effect (OK, maybe something a little less provocative). We never did get around to having those shirts made, but every once in a while the idea comes up again. It all began as a joke, but a few people have supported the idea, particularly couples like us who've had similar experiences. We've met a few such couples over the last couple of years. They come from a variety of backgrounds and have all followed their own paths to get where they are. But one thing they have in common is that they don't deserve to be subjected to cold stares, negative comments, and harsh judgements made by people who should know better.

Sadly, some people really don't know any better. I know I shouldn't let it get to me because the people who behave that way are in the minority. But it does get to me. And I know I shouldn't judge people either, but it's difficult. It's hard not to doubt people's sincerity even after I've said here that I wish people wouldn't doubt my wife's sincerity or mine. But I do try to give people the benefit of the doubt. Sure, some questions don't seem very sincere, like when someone asked one couple we know whether the wife was the maid, or when another couple was asked if they'd married after having their baby. But hey, at least someone was willing to ask questions. Someone once said that the dumbest questions are the ones that aren't asked. If someone is willing to think before they judge us and really wants to know what our story is, all they need to do is ask the right questions. We might just have the answers they're looking for. We'll probably have some questions of our own too.

JORDAN MACVAY is a lecturer at a Malaysian university and is currently on loan to a college in China, an adventure he's enjoying with his lovely Malaysian wife and extra-toed Canadian cat. Jordan blogs at http://macvaysia.com .