By Zhou Jun Wen
Translated by Wu Hsiao-ting
Photo by Hsiao Yiu-hwa
After celebrating the Chinese New Year in 2020 with my family in Malaysia, I hurried back to work in Singapore. Little did I know at the time that COVID-19 would make it so difficult to see them again. Working alone in a foreign land, not a moment has passed without my hoping that the pandemic will come to an end so I can visit my loved ones again.
I haven’t seen my dad in more than a year. Even though I talk to him on the phone, it just can’t compare to physically spending time with him. We are both football fans, and I remember the year I took leave from work so I could go back to Malaysia and watch the World Cup final on TV with him. My dad was in such high spirits that night, showing no sign of fatigue even when the wee hours of the morning rolled around. He commented excitedly on the players: who was good, who was bad… I was thrilled to see him so happy. I didn’t have much time to spend with him, so I treasured every moment we had until I had to return to work.
Engaged in a seemingly endless cycle of eating, sleeping, and working in a foreign land makes me feel lonely. I only feel warmth when I video chat with my family at night. During such chats, we share tidbits of what is going on in our lives. Hearing my children’s laughter and laughing with them is so relaxing. Those are my happiest and most laid-back moments.
Knowing that my family is safe and sound brings me peace of mind. On the other hand, if any of them falls ill or suffers from aches and pains, I’m worried and sad. I feel for my wife when I see her jaded look on the video chat screen. For years, she has shouldered the responsibility of caring for our three children and older family members alone. She has a lot on her plate, but she is still deeply concerned about me, about whether I’m getting along well in Singapore, about whether I’m safe and healthy.
COVID has kept me from home and made me miss out on good times with my kids. In the time I’ve been away from home, my younger daughter has moved up to third grade; my son has grown almost as tall as I am; and my older daughter has graduated from college. They’ve grown so quickly over the last year and a half, I marvel at how fast time flies. It also pains me. Countless times in the quiet of the night, I missed my family so much I would have immediately flown home if I could.
Yet, as much as I miss my family, I am brought back to reality as soon as I think of the time I’d have to spend in isolation if I were to travel to Malaysia and then back during this time—about a full month. This doesn’t even take into account the money I’d have to spend on lodging, transportation, and COVID screening tests. All of that would take such a big cut from my pay I wouldn’t have much left to take home.
The COVID-19 pandemic has forced me to take furlough days. Some of my colleagues have been laid off. When they were asked to leave, I was on pins and needles, fervently wishing I wouldn’t be the next one to follow in their footsteps. I was thankful to have the emotional support of my fellow Tzu Chi volunteers during that difficult time; Master Cheng Yen’s Dharma talks and programs offered by Tzu Chi’s Da Ai TV sustained me too. The Master’s teachings always lift me from my gloom and help me think positively. Our world is plagued by disasters and conflicts of all kinds. Many people have it tougher than me; I’m lucky to still have a job. When we learn to count our blessings, fear loosens its grip on us.
I live in a small rental. My landlord is a warm-hearted person. He treats me like family and always invites me to eat with his family on holidays. People tend to miss home more during major holidays, and it warms me when he reaches out to me like that. My volunteer work also helps ease my homesickness. I can’t participate in many Tzu Chi activities because I work on a rotation basis, but whenever my time allows, I actively pitch in. Volunteering makes me feel fulfilled.
The pandemic situation in Malaysia has been so severe recently that I can’t help but worry. I’m concerned if my family has been vaccinated and if they are all safe and well. The thought—“what if they are diagnosed with the infection”—crosses my mind every so often. Living apart from them, all I can do is remind them time and again on the phone to stay home as much as possible and to be sure to use masks and maintain social distancing when they go out.
I thank the front-line medical workers in Malaysia for pulling out all the stops to take care of COVID patients in our country and bring lives back from the brink. They really help ease the minds of expatriates like me who can’t be with our families during this critical time. Many Malaysians, like me, work in Singapore; we all miss our families in our home country. I know things are difficult now, but I firmly believe that the pandemic will eventually be over. I look forward to seeing the rainbow at the end of the storm.
