MARCH 21 — Reading and hearing about current affairs in Malaysia from the bubble that is university life overseas, it’s only natural to wonder how things actually are on the ground back home.

I can only imagine the anxiety and frustration of fellow Malaysians in response to the disappearance of MH370, charges pressed on opposition leaders and the persistent dry spell, among other national issues.

On the surface, being removed from the immediate context and environment seems to make it difficult to empathise with others and appreciate the gravity of the situation. But it isn’t.

Not because technology and social media make it easier to access and disseminate information. It isn’t difficult, simply because we’re all bound by this nebulous force of kinship and to some extent we do care about what happens in our country. These collective national experiences that mould us, also tell us something about being human and about the value that lies in this togetherness.

The recent MH370 incident reminds me of a dragon-boat accident in Penang four years ago. It was some time in mid-January when a dragon-boat capsized due to the apparent strong undercurrents in the waters off the coast of the island.

Some managed to swim to shore and survived, but it took a few days to recover the bodies of the remaining students on that boat. A dear friend was on that boat. Even though I was far removed from the situation at home since I was in Singapore and was unable to do anything, I remember the two days of agony and anxiety.

The incident itself was a rude shock and the uncertainty — not knowing where he was or whether he was alive or dead — was paralysing. But there was something else, too. 

Facebook’s reach was not as extensive then as it is now, but back in 2010 during the incident, my peers from home were already creating pages similar to the ones for MH370 we see today.

Friends and relatives recounted anecdotes about the missing boys and all ended with a “please come home safely.” Social media was where we took to pin our hopes. When news of their deaths broke, there was an outpouring of grief and consolation and many students attended the funerals. I wrote to friends and made long calls home, hoping to provide some comfort and peace.

The 15-year-old me saw what I would now recognise as a collective human experience, where people came together and felt as one. Echoing the old adage that man is a social being, that time of anxiety and grief was made a socialising experience. It drew on our collective empathies and collective faith to provide strength and courage to face uncertainty.

Women pray during a special event for the passengers of the missing Malaysia Airlines MH370 at The Curve, Petaling Jaya March 18, 2014. — Picture by Yusof Mat Isa

It made us feel human again, too. Because all men harbour fears, but no man is an island. When people come together, as cheesy as this sounds, inspiring things do happen. Today we see people of different political affiliations and religious backgrounds, both in Malaysia and worldwide, engaged in the search or in prayers for the missing aircraft.

We see conversation and discussion about the effectiveness of measures taken thus far, and not just blind acceptance of things. The level of engagement, to me, is heartening.

Something also has to be said about this togetherness and the value of it.

Our Town, a play by Thornton Wilder, has often been described as a microcosm of the life cycle. It takes us through general scenes of life — familial relationships, social relationships, marriage, death... it’s easy to relate to these things because there are always these collective human experiences that define humanity and addresses the human condition, regardless of how different we are.

In the film A Boy Called H, adapted from an autobiographical novel of the same title, the tailor who speaks Japanese to his foreign clients (while they respond in their own language, but they understand each other perfectly) tells his son, “Languages and countries are just things — it is people who matter.” 

So what are physical distance, cultural differences and other man-made barriers to people with the same spirit and same goals? If anything, it brings people together to engage in discussions over shared concerns and over plans to make things happen.

*This is the personal opinion of the columnist.