A few years ago, the news of a suicide in Tokyo made its rounds in the Korean community in Japan.

The dead woman was the wife of a man who was dispatched by a Korean firm to Japan. Apparently, she suffered from depression even before she arrived in Tokyo.

Her husband thought a change of scenery might help. He thought wrong.

Cut off from her family, her friends -- basically her entire support structure -- the woman eventually succumbed to her inner demons. 

Her husband had tried, but it was not enough. He was too busy making a living for his family.

Depression is not uncommon among people who live outside their home country for long periods of time. 

Several of my friends who live abroad, with whom I reconnected since starting to live in Tokyo, recounted their stories. 

One teared up as she talked of how she very seriously considered suicide during the first year of her stay in Canada. Her home was miles away from civilization, she had two little girls, and the tightly knit Korean community was not exactly welcoming.  

Another told me rather ruefully that even after four years of living in Hong Kong, she has yet to make any real friends.

The conversation turned to my own mother, a woman who was vibrant and full of energy, but who slept the days away when we lived in the States.

There are of course memories of fun-filled barbecues, visits to our beloved neighborhood library and my first real Christmas tree, which I perceived as the culmination of my parents’ efforts to emulate the American holiday spirit.

But in between, I remember watching a woman become slowly defeated by the harsh unfamiliarity of her surroundings that somehow never mellowed.

It was not a physical pain, but a sense of disconnection from everything she ever knew drove my mother to succumb to those long hours of listless slumber.

Fortunately, she got her mojo back as soon as we returned to Korea. This meant incessant nagging and fighting, but it was still far better than living with a depressed parent.

Now for the husbands.

I honestly want to believe that depression applies equally to both genders.

But for some reason, it is “okay” in Korean families for men to booze while the wives stay at home with the kids.

I have every bit of respect for these men, many of whom are amazing fathers and good husbands that work hard to bring home the bacon. 

But I also have witnessed quite a few who drink daily and golf on Saturdays. Sunday, of course, is for rest.

The absence of these men may be less conspicuous if their significant others could quickly make new friends. 

Have you ever tried to befriend people past the age of 30? People with whom you have absolutely nothing in common at that, except for the fact their kids go to school with your kids?

I can say from experience that it is not an easy task.

Don’t get me wrong. Living abroad can be a delightful experience.

Take, for example, the city of Tokyo where people and culture mix with a vengeance.

Yet, it can be one of the loneliest places ever if you don’t speak the language and don’t get out to enjoy the night life. Weekdays are bearable at most, and weekends become long, empty stretches of time.

So the perks come with a price. And when you think about the effect of weary parents on the kids, it is not a matter to be taken lightly.

A bigger concern is that addressing depression or even talking about it still considered a taboo in many Asian cultures including Korea. 

The victims are reluctant to expose themselves for fear of stigma. So they put a lid on it.

And please don’t say just go back home, because it really is not an easy decision. Furthermore, many are convinced they need to “stick it out” for the sake of their families.

To prevent future tragedies, there should at least be some sort of hotline operated by the embassy or the firms that dispatch workers for their benefit.

All overseas employees should come armed with awareness about the reality of life abroad. And professional counselors should always be on hand.

Otherwise, the experience of a lifetime can turn into a relocation nightmare. 


By Kim Ji-hyun

Kim Ji-hyun is The Korea Herald’s Tokyo correspondent. — Ed.