Reflections on a New Life: From Bhutan to Melbourne – A Journey of Family and Growth

Our journey from Bhutan to Melbourne was one that would forever change the course of our lives. Sonam and I left behind everything we knew, stepping into the unknown with hearts filled with both hope and fear. The excitement of starting anew was clouded by the weight of uncertainty and a deep sense of homesickness. Yet, as we faced the challenges of adapting to a new life, we found comfort in the warmth of family, in quiet moments of reflection, and in the understanding that home isn’t just a place—it’s the connections we make and the memories we create along the way.

The Beginning of Our Journey

In 2020, Sonam and I made a decision that would alter the course of our lives forever: we left the quiet comfort of Bhutan and moved to Melbourne, Australia. We stepped into a world full of uncertainty, with hearts heavy yet hopeful. The excitement was quickly overshadowed by fear, as everything here was strange—no friends, no family, no familiar faces. But we were lucky enough to have relatives already settled in Melbourne, and they opened their hearts and their home to us. They gave us more than just a roof over our heads; they gave us a little piece of peace in the midst of our struggle. Their kindness became the thread that helped us hold on during those early, overwhelming days. I will never stop being grateful for that.

The Unseen Struggle

Melbourne’s relentless energy was a world away from the tranquility we had left behind. The city felt suffocating at first—the constant rush of traffic, the hurried pace of people, the noise that seemed to never stop. I missed the stillness of Bhutan—the gentle rustling of trees, the quiet mornings where you could hear the birds sing. I remember one afternoon, standing in the middle of Flinders Street Station, completely lost in a sea of faces. The noise, the movement, the chaos—it overwhelmed me, and in that moment, I could feel the weight of being so far from home. Slowly, though, I began to adjust, finding a rhythm to the city. Melbourne had its own kind of life, one that I was still learning to find my place in.

The Bond of Family

The hardest part of this journey, without a doubt, was leaving our children behind in Bhutan. It wasn’t just the physical distance that hurt; it was the emotional gap, the ache of not being able to see them every day. But we had each other, and we were fortunate. We stayed with relatives who treated us like family, helping us through the pain of separation. I will always remember a quiet evening when Sonam stood by the window, gazing at the unfamiliar skyline. She said, almost to herself, "I never thought it would be this hard." That moment broke something in me. It made me realize just how much this move was taking from us, but it also reminded me of the strength we had in each other. Through all the hardships, our bond grew, and that gave me a reason to keep going.

The Language of Home

English was something I had learned in Bhutan, but it was never a part of my daily life. In Melbourne, though, it became a constant struggle. The language barrier was sharper here, especially when people spoke so fast or used slang I didn’t understand. I’ll never forget the day I tried to order a coffee at a café, asking the barista to make it "not too hot." She looked at me, confused, unsure of what I meant. Back in Bhutan, I would’ve communicated easily, with words that felt natural to me. Here, I was learning to speak again, to express myself in a way that didn’t always feel comfortable. It was a small moment, but it was a reminder of just how much I had to adapt. And so, bit by bit, I worked to improve my English, hoping that one day it would feel like my own.

The Heart of Photography

When homesickness hit hardest, photography became my lifeline. It gave me a way to see my new surroundings with a different lens, finding beauty in places that felt foreign. I wandered through Melbourne, camera in hand, searching for moments that could soothe the ache of missing home. One afternoon, I visited Footscray Park, and as the sunlight filtered through the trees, casting shadows on the lake, I was reminded of the landscapes back in Bhutan. I captured that moment, and in doing so, I realized something: I wasn’t just longing for the past. I was starting to see Melbourne with new eyes. Through my camera, I could create memories here, too.

The Power of Shared Culture

After a few months, I realized I couldn’t keep carrying the weight of homesickness alone. I needed to find others who understood what I was feeling, who shared my background. That’s when I found the Bhutanese community in Melbourne. Attending my first gathering was a relief I hadn’t known I needed. There, I heard our language, saw familiar faces, and shared experiences that made me feel a little less far from home. For those few hours, it felt like I had stepped back into Bhutan. We talked about the food we missed, the life we had left behind, and the struggles we faced. That day, I understood: even though I was living in Melbourne, I wasn’t alone.

The Vietnamese Temple where we have most of our gatherings

Overcoming the Distance

Homesickness was a constant companion during those early days. The distance from family and the familiarity of Bhutan weighed on me more than I ever anticipated. I remember one particularly hard day, walking along the Yarra River, feeling completely lost. I stopped, took out my camera, and began snapping photos of the city as the sun set. The golden light reflecting on the water calmed me, and for the first time in months, I realized something: I wasn’t just longing for Bhutan. I was starting to create a life here. Melbourne wasn’t home yet, but in that moment, I understood that it could be.

The Struggle to Connect

Making friends in a new city is never easy. I missed the close-knit community of Bhutan, where relationships were built on daily interactions, on shared moments. In Melbourne, it often felt like I was trying too hard, pushing myself into spaces where people already had their own lives. I remember one Saturday afternoon, sitting alone at a community event, watching people bond with such ease. I felt invisible, unsure if I’d ever find my place. But I kept trying. And slowly, I started to form connections—small but meaningful ones. Little by little, the city began to feel less like a foreign place and more like somewhere I could belong.

A New Perspective

Living in Melbourne has taught me to see the world differently. The city is a melting pot of cultures, each person bringing their own story, their own piece of the world. One day, walking through Queen Victoria Market, I noticed the beautiful mix of people: an Australian family, travelers from Europe, a couple bargaining in Vietnamese. In that moment, I saw the city for what it really is—a place where everyone, no matter their background, could come together and create something new. And for the first time, I didn’t just see Melbourne as a foreign city. I saw it as a place where stories from all over the world could intertwine and become something beautiful.

The small circle of friends and relatives

The Tough Decision

Leaving Bhutan wasn’t easy, and it never will be. We left behind everything—family, friends, our way of life. But in early 2024, Sonam and I made the decision to reunite our family. We returned to Bhutan to bring our son and daughter to Melbourne. The goodbyes were heart-wrenching, and when we finally stepped onto that plane to bring them here, it felt like a bittersweet moment. But when we arrived in Melbourne, together, the weight of those first months seemed lighter. It was hard to leave our past behind, but we did it for our children’s future. And now, as we continue our journey in Australia, I hold on to the hope that no matter where we are, family will always be the anchor that keeps us grounded.