With the May Family Month holidays, major squares, department stores, and amusement parks in Seoul are filled with people out on excursions with their families. On the 4th, one day before Children's Day, lines formed from the morning at the ‘Family Together Festival’ held at Gwanghwamun Square. Excited children looked around in wonder and burst into giggles.

On this day, the Lotte Department Store mall, food hall, and cinema in Jung-gu, Seoul were bustling from the morning. Most customers were families. In a children's clothing store, two girls were choosing clothes with their mother. A three-generation family shopping with their grandmother was looking at rain boots for the daughter.

The food hall grew crowded even before noon. At a seolleongtang shop, a grandmother cut meat into small pieces for her young grandchildren, and a mother cooled hot broth and spoon-fed her children. A boy I met at the cinema on the sixth floor stared intently at the movie trailers, clutching popcorn to his chest.

These are common scenes in Family Month, but for migrant workers they are an everyday life that is hard to dream of. Those who have left their families in their home countries and come alone to work in Korea said in phone interviews that loneliness and longing grow stronger during Family Month.

A man in his 40s from Nepal, identified as A, who works at a food-related company in Gyeonggi Province, said, “It hurts to watch Korean families shopping, eating, and going out with their children on the street,” and added, “I am sad because my family is far away and we cannot see each other.”

A, who came to Korea eight years ago to earn money, leaving his son, wife, and parents in his hometown, said, “I want to go to the park with my family, take photos, and watch movies.” It has been two years since he last saw his family. He makes video calls every day and sees the face of his 17-year-old son only on the screen. Most migrant workers are said to find peace of mind after work by making video calls with their families.

B, a Nepali migrant worker in his 30s who lost a finger while working on a farm in Jeonju, North Jeolla Province, has been unable to return to his family because of a lawsuit for industrial accident compensation. B said, “Yesterday, during a video call, my son said, ‘Dad, come back soon. I miss you,’” and added, “I want to live with my family as soon as possible.” C, a Filipino migrant worker who left his two- and ten-year-old sons in his home country, said, “I, too, want to spend time eating good food with my family like Koreans do,” and added, “I want to give my son a toy car as a present.”

Most migrant workers come to Korea alone, leaving their families behind. The Employment Permit System (E-9), which accounts for the largest share of work visas for foreigners in Korea, in principle does not allow entry with accompanying family members. Kim Dalseong, head of the Pocheon Migrant Workers Center, said, “When you come in on an E-9 visa, you usually work in Korea for about five to ten years and live alone,” adding, “Many suffer from homesickness and depression, and families sometimes break apart after long separation.” He added, “Migrant workers are people just like us,” and said, “Institutional improvements are needed to allow them to be with their families.”

Those who came to Korea on work visas but became undocumented migrant workers due to reasons such as expiration of their stay also find it difficult to visit home. If they leave the country, they cannot return. Song Eun-jung, director of Migrant Center Friends, said, “When they become undocumented, there are many cases where they cannot see their families at all,” and added, “When asked about the greatest difficulty, most say it is not being able to meet their families.”