December 26th, 2019; flying in the direction of Saigon’s Tan Son Nhat Airport, Vietnam.
June 1st, 2020; checking into Auckland’s Pullman Hotel, in what were the comparatively early stages of New Zealand’s COVID-19 Quarantine facility.
A disproportionately large number of occurrences took place between those two dates; additionally, that five-month stint in Southeast Asia showed me, a 36-year-old man hitherto in danger of abject stagnation, that, irrespective of one’s past or current predicament in life, with dedication and desire to seize opportunities when they arise, fresh starts are always available.
I arrived in Saigon, undertook a course, gave it everything and weeks later, emerged a TESOL graduate; I then shot up-country to the idyllic Buon Ma Thuot where, late January 2020, for the coming months I plied my newest trade to masterful effect.
COVID had arrived, seemingly focused on the larger cities, leaving our peaceful inland paradise unaffected; nevertheless, as the end of March loomed, along with my scheduled flight home, I began to experience a great sadness at leaving behind this adoptive homeland – also a girlfriend, also about a hundred townsfolk-friends, and multiple adoptive families-friends.
Via online New Zealand radio broadcasts, I was able to keep abreast of most happenings in my native land; at the time, regarding the COVID-19 pandemic, New Zealand did not appear any better positioned than Vietnam.
COVID had arrived, like a guardian viral angel, cancelling many international flights, including my own; I was dismayed while, at the same time, overjoyed at having more time to spend in this transcendent land with these glorious people.
Vietnamese Immigration started sending me emails politely requesting, due to my recently expired Visa, that I please vacate their country.
COVID had arrived, threatening Buon Ma Thuot, forcing a lockdown and trapping me all day in the cool of indoors with my gorgeous Vietnamese girlfriend and wonderful adoptive family.
Vietnamese Immigration became less polite and, over the coming weeks, presented to me several viable flights out of Vietnam but never completely into New Zealand which, while I did accept and even pay for a few Australian-stopover flights, were always cancelled in the days before departure.
With the last of my funds now tied up with various airlines, I finally lost hope of getting home and settled in for another 12 months in Vietnam being harassed by Vietnamese Immigration.
Vietnamese Immigration then sent me another ‘urgent’ email; this one claimed there was a Vietnam Airlines plane flying right into Auckland Airport leaving Saigon’s Tan Son Nhat the coming weekend.
This latest flight plan sounded perfect; alas I now had insufficient funds to fly anywhere.
My girlfriend later listened as I explained my predicament, then without a word she disappeared up the stairs and into her mother’s room.
A few minutes later she returned, clasping a thick wad of 500 dong bills which she handed me; my wonderful Vietnamese family paid that exorbitant fare back to New Zealand so that I could be reunited with my genuine family.
(For the record, months later, I would be reimbursed around half of the money I had spent on cancelled airfares – ‘Act of God’ meant travel insurance jumped through a loophole on all losses incurred – and, months after that, through international transfer, I did pay back that family, with interest.)
The next year in New Zealand passed in a blur of hazy recollections and growing frustrations.
I had been discharged from Auckland’s quarantine facility on 1st June 2020, and while I did communicate with Vietnam most days, I longed for my life in Vietnam, the most prosperous existence I had experienced in 20 years.
I tried everything I could to get back to Vietnam as an English teacher; according to what I was reading, even throughout COVID Vietnam was bringing in ‘highly skilled workers’ – I was aware this included native English teachers – yet the sponsorship I required continually eluded me.
Finally, October 2021, the COVID vaccine having been the source of great debate for months, I have a potential offer of employment thus hopefully the sponsorship to head back to Vietnam to resume my life of prosperity.
Early days, admittedly, and I am not typically one to go in for premature excitement but, come on; Kiwis are currently being dictated by a political party insistent on maintaining favourable public perception thus feeding their people only the sweetly embellished variety of propaganda they need to hear to maintain their own agenda while forcing parts of the country into knee-jerk overreaction every time wastewater testing turns up a snifter of COVID-19 because although at this point a health system collapse is unlikely this incumbent government political party is terrified of the national bedlam which may ensue if they are seen to be anything but the robust New Zealand Socialist Government Dictatorship they are endeavouring to embody and now Christchurch is back on the hackneyed bandwagon with its ‘cases of COVID’…
Seriously, allow me this one shred of hope, it’s all I have.
Article by Tim Walker
Edited by M Buddy Mint
Photography by Dick Tater