This is a record of an interview with Hu Ying-wen, who sought at the Hsiang Kuang Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the . This account reflects upon his life and his transition into the spirit realm. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa-xin, on November 14, 2020.
Hu Ying-wen speaks:
". It is only now that I realise I had become an air molecule—something invisible to everyone. Originally, I had set out to conquer the world. I believed I would carve out a life unlike any other. Fifty years ago, when very few people were immigrating to Australia, I chose to come here through a skilled migration program. The reason I decided to leave Taiwan was a matter of the heart. Just days before our wedding, my fiancée told me she had fallen in love with my best friend. And my friend loved her too. To avoid hurting me, they chose to keep their distance, but my fiancée felt her heart had changed; she could not continue to deceive herself or spend a lifetime deceiving me. She cried as she apologised. I was not angry. In truth, having observed their interactions, I had already sensed it, but I did not want to admit it. I thought everything could still be salvaged. I never expected that once changed, they would never return. After cancelling the wedding, my heart felt incredibly heavy. I did not know how to face this hurdle in my life.
A New Beginning in a Foreign Land
When my cousin, who lived in Australia, returned for a family gathering, I spoke with her about life there and decided I wanted to give it a try. She suggested I accompany her to Australia to see for myself. If I wanted to stay long-term, my skills as a car mechanic would allow me to apply for skilled migration. I thought her suggestion was excellent. After a few trips to Australia, I decided to leave the land of my sorrow in Taiwan and start a brand-new life in Australia.
For a grown man arriving in a strange country, the most practical challenge was managing my own meals. Australia is not like Taiwan, where you can find restaurants or convenience stores everywhere you turn. Before coming to Australia, I was someone who always ate out. For me, walking into a large Australian supermarket and looking at the vast array of products was overwhelming. I had no idea what to buy. What would these foods taste like when combined? Would they be any good? These questions circled in my mind every day. The first time I saw white rice in the store, I was so excited. I bought it and followed the instructions—how much water to add, how long to cook it on the stove. I bought canned corn to make scrambled eggs, blanched some fresh vegetables, and even tried to braise some meat to make a Taiwanese-style meal. To my dismay, the rice did not cook through, the braised meat was a failure, and I ended up eating corn with scrambled eggs and tasteless vegetables paired with instant noodles. I spent so much time every day just trying to feed myself.
The Struggle for Professional Recognition
Beyond that, skilled migration required obtaining local certification. With only basic English, I had to delve into the technical vocabulary for car repair. I could not afford to spend too much time, as my savings were only enough to last me a year. Within that year, I had to obtain the local license to truly be considered an immigrant. At nearly forty years old, picking up books to study again was exhausting, but I was determined. When I first arrived in Australia, I lived in Brisbane. I encountered discrimination from Australians, and even from local Chinese who rejected newcomers. It was a torment for both body and mind. I had few friends, and my cousin was busy with her own family, so I felt ashamed to burden her. I bore the bitterness of being away from home in silence. To ensure no one would look down on me, I began to study and practise English with intense focus. I forced myself not to fear speaking to foreigners, immersing myself in that environment all day long. After several months of hardship, I finally obtained the license to repair cars in Australia. But that was just the threshold for living here.
Once I had the license, I started working. However, explaining technical issues to customers in fluent English and communicating with other technicians was incredibly difficult for me. Because of this, many customers questioned my professionalism, which affected my boss's business. At first, he gave me a hard time. I apologised to him in a low voice and promised that I would change. I forced myself to be more expressive, putting immense pressure on myself. That was when I noticed my hair starting to fall out—more and more each day—until I developed a 'Mediterranean' bald spot. Because of the stress, I began to binge-eat, consuming burgers and cola for convenience, which caused me to gain weight rapidly. When I looked in the mirror, I barely recognised myself.
Finding Peace in Toowoomba
I felt I could no longer endure such a life, so I decided to put work aside and go for a drive to relax. I drove along the highway from Brisbane, driving and driving, until I reached Toowoomba, which is near Brisbane. Known as the 'Garden City,' I looked at the flowers and plants and felt the atmosphere of the place, and I decided to move there. In Toowoomba, I found a simple, clean little house and spent five days moving. After arriving in Toowoomba, I felt both my body and mind relax significantly. Through a friend from Brisbane, I found a car repair shop in Toowoomba. The owner was a very kind Australian man. He knew I was Chinese and that life must be difficult for me, so he took special care of me. His wife would prepare delicious cakes and pasta for me. For the first time, I felt at peace in Australia, and I was deeply grateful to my boss.
Every morning when I woke up, I would breathe in the freshest air in Australia. It was this air that, seven years after coming to Australia, finally allowed me to open my heart and truly integrate into Australian life. Once everything settled, I began to learn how Australians value their lifestyle. I started riding a bicycle to lose weight and return to my proper self. Gradually, I became accustomed to and grew to love life in Australia. My heart felt lighter, though the loneliness of being far from home still lingered.
The Final Breath and the Light of Deliverance
One day while cycling, I found myself panting harder than usual, and I felt dizzy and unwell for the entire day. When I got home, I lay on the sofa to rest. Suddenly, my breathing became more and more rapid, more and more rapid. I struggled to inhale, gasping for air, and after a few seconds of being unable to breathe, I passed away. My spirit felt dizzy, drifting here and there. My entire body became light; I had become air—an uncontrollable air molecule. I had been blown far away by the loud voices of humans, and I had even entered of a cow to cycle through life before emerging again. I had to merge with all kinds of scents and environments; I had no control over where I stayed. The happiest moments were when I stayed near fragrant flowers; beside the flowers, I, this air molecule, could also be fragrant. I felt I was constantly wandering, never settled, just like my heart when I first came to Australia. Recently, I drifted above a certain field and suddenly felt a light different from the sun, shining over the entire area. The first time, I did not feel it deeply, but later, the second time, the third time, I felt it more and more distinctly. Even my heart felt a kind of warmth. I began to wait.
When the light came again, I paid close attention. Wow! The one bringing the light had a Chinese face! How could it be so bright! When I saw the true face of Practitioner Su, although it happened too fast, I felt a sense of great intimacy. I longed to go to where Practitioner Su was. Many other spirits also began to grow restless, and I comforted them, telling them to behave. I am so grateful to Practitioner Su for performing Chao Du for us, giving us a path to survival. I have finally waited for that single ray of light for rebirth. Thank you."
