My late father travelled from Jieyang, Guangdong to Nanyang (Southeast Asia) in his early years to make a living. Like countless Chinese pioneers of that era who crossed the oceans, he was not in pursuit of wealth and glory, but was forced by harsh realities to seek a path of survival, leaving him no choice but to leave his home and travel to foreign lands.
At that time, the rural areas of Chaoshan suffered from barren land, a large population, and the intertwining of natural disasters and poverty. The common people laboured tirelessly year-round, yet still struggled to stay warm and fed. Many families lacked adequate clothing and food, making life extremely difficult. For those living in that era, “going overseas” was not a choice, but an act of desperation. If there had been a place to settle and thrive in their hometown, who would have willingly abandoned their ancestral land, left their closest flesh and blood, and embarked alone on a journey with an uncertain future.
The day my late father left home was the most difficult moment of his life. As a young man, he bore the expectations of his family and the heavy burdens of life. Amidst the reluctant farewells of his relatives, he fought back tears, bid goodbye to his parents and loved ones, and set foot on the long road to Nanyang. Taking that step meant leaving behind familiar local accents and soil, and facing a future filled with unknowns and risks. The sorrow and helplessness of that parting are beyond what a few words from later generations can fully express.
From Jieyang to Nanyang, what seems like a journey of merely a few hours today was, at the time, a long expedition fraught with hardship and danger. My father first had to trek across mountains and rivers to reach the port, and then board a rudimentary and crowded sea vessel. The conditions on the ship were atrocious, with cramped spaces, foul air, and basic rations. In calm waters, one could barely scrape by, but once they encountered rough seas, the entire ship would sway violently, leaving many vomiting endlessly and even facing life-threatening situations.
Navigation technology back then was far less advanced than it is today, and the weather at sea was highly unpredictable, with typhoons, torrential rains, and giant waves capable of striking at any moment. Many emigrants lived in constant fear on board, worrying about the safety of their journey as well as their future fate. For these young people far from home, the ocean not only separated their homeland from foreign countries, but also divided their past from their future. In the dead of night, looking out at the boundless sea, they missed their hometowns and worried about their parents, wives, and children, yet could only bury their homesickness deep within their hearts.
After a long and arduous journey, my late father finally arrived in Nanyang. However, reaching a foreign land did not signify the end of his suffering, but rather the beginning of another life of struggle. Faced with a language barrier, a different culture, an unfamiliar living environment, and having virtually no possessions, he had to start everything from scratch. To survive, he had to take on the most exhausting and menial jobs. Whether toiling beneath the scorching sun or rushing about in the wind and rain, he gritted his teeth and persevered.
Most Chinese immigrants of that era relied on their industriousness, patience, and determination to build their lives from the ground up on foreign soil. They worked hard during the day, lived frugally at night, and saved their meagre earnings in the hope of one day improving their families’ lives. Many never managed to return home in wealth and honour, yet they dedicated the best years of their lives to their families and descendants.
My late father was just one of these millions of Nanyang Chinese strivers. He achieved no earth-shattering feats nor built an illustrious career, but he silently shouldered his familial responsibilities with a hardworking and honest attitude towards life. The hardships and trials he endured forged his unwavering character, and the sweat and effort he poured out created better living conditions for future generations.
Today, as we look back on my late father’s life, we should not only see the results he later achieved, but also remember the hardship and courage he displayed when he left home. That generation of Nanyang Chinese pioneers rose from poverty and suffering, persevered through displacement and loneliness, and used their own hands to carve out a life and their sweat to write history. Their spirit of struggle is our family’s most precious wealth.
As the years flow by, the world transforms. The docks where relatives once said their goodbyes may have long changed their appearance, and the sailing ships that once carried countless wanderers far away have long vanished into the river of history. Yet, the silhouette of my late father leaving home to make a living will forever be engraved in the memories of his descendants. Through his life experiences, he taught us that no matter what predicament we find ourselves in, as long as we hold onto hope, maintain firm convictions, and work diligently, we can eventually forge our own path through adversity.
I dedicate this text to the memory of my late father and all the Nanyang Chinese pioneers of that era who crossed the oceans and fought through hardships. May future generations forever remember the bitterness of their departure from home and cherish the hard-won happiness of today, and may their unyielding and self-improving spirit be passed down from generation to generation, enduring endlessly.