It was my first month in Malaysia, and I had just packed the wrong biscuits at work. In times like these, I’d always give my mom a call. Her voice was comforting, and I immediately thought of the life I left behind in Vietnam. My mum was always working. And one day, an agent came to my village and told me about working in Malaysia. I remember thinking life could finally be different. When I first arrived, I didn’t know any Bahasa Melayu. I observed how people did their work and copied them. After a few rounds of watching them, I was OK. My friends from Vietnam, who came before me, really helped me. They taught me how to speak Malay and how to work. Working here, I’ve also met people from many different places – such as Burmese, Indians and Chinese. At first, I thought I could have only one family. But when I came here, I made many friends. My boss treats everyone like family. I still treasure my family back home, but here, I’ve found more people I love. I thought I’d go home after three years, but I realised I wanted to continue working here. I’ve found home.