Moving again. No, it is not a complaint – it is merely a statement of fact. 

Every three years or so, the diplomats of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs move house – some to a foreign country, others to return home for their stint in Malaysia. 

We often call it a ‘stint’ even though we are technically ‘home’ because it works the same way as a posting abroad: it is temporary, and one fine day, we will again be called upon to uproot and move.

The rotation that every foreign ministry has established works like clockwork. Some are posted abroad, so others will have to return to fill in the posts left vacant. Eventually everyone returns home to Malaysia to work; it is just a matter of when.

I have always said that it is a nomadic life; the diplomatic version of ‘glamping’. Malaysia is never truly far from our hearts, even if we are half-way around the globe.

This will be the first time I am packing to live abroad without Mom. She had always been there for me, telling me how to store my books so they would not become damp while on transit, giving me tips on how to space out my grocery purchases so that everything would not expire all at once, and generally giving me (and my siblings) life advice.

Anyone who has lost both parents understand the loss that comes with ‘closing a chapter’. When you lose the second parent, especially one that has been your rock, your anchor, the one who has kept you grounded as you fly as high as you can, then your childhood chapter is gone forever.

There are two groups of nomads in the foreign service, generally. Many foreign service officers really, truly ‘move house’ when they move to a new place. In addition to the children, and the household pets, this group of officers will literally bring along everything in their household and transport every movable object into their shipping container. 

For them, every item holds a special memory, a whimsical remembrance.

The second group of nomads take this opportunity of moving, to do their spring cleaning. They spend countless hours sifting through accumulated documents, mementos and knick-knacks, to dispose of those items that will not be needed. They are the non-sentimental individuals.

Depending on which group you fall into, both ways suit the lifestyle chosen.

Leading this nomadic life means that there would always be gaps in my knowledge of how a particular family member was connected to me, or of events that had happened during my absence. Since language is closely tied to culture, upbringing, and the environment, there were phrases so uniquely Malaysian that it was beyond me.

On different stints back at headquarters, I had to learn the phrase ‘membawang’ (gossip), understand who a ‘Karen’ was, and why there was this preoccupation with celebrities’ divorces. And that was not including the many updates from the extended family members, leaving you with a feeling that you’ve been left out of many things.

There is only so much that technology can do. Connection and closeness is not one of them. These can only be had when you sit and talk at the mamak shop, or have a tete-a-tete with one of the cousins, or aunts.

As I was making my farewell rounds, I realized one thing. Mom might be gone, but she left her many, many siblings behind, all of whom represented a poignant piece of her. 

If, before, I could get away with saying farewell to a handful of family members, this time around I found that I had a whole slew of uncles and aunts to say farewell to, and not doing a good job of it. All of us were getting on in years – me definitely, but them especially – and who knows when and if we would have the opportunity to meet again.

I spent my last two weeks in various coffee meetings, and I still did not finish the rounds. There were very important people I simply ran out of time to meet, there were close friends whom I simply could not fit into the 18 hours of the day. The shortcoming is mine; it is not an indication of their importance in my life. It simply is.

And hopefully these people I have not been able to say farewell to personally, will still talk to me after I reach Canada.