When Covid-19 border closures struck, Alice Gunawan Matulessy’s family was suddenly divided: her husband remained in Vietnam while she and their children stayed in Indonesia. What could have been a time of fear became a time of reassurance. Vietnam’s decisive governance and clear prioritization of public safety gave her confidence that he was secure. Once reunited, Matulessy not only chose to remain in Vietnam but also continued to advance her hospitality career, finding in the country not just a home, but a place where her voice resonates more than ever.
The Saigon Times: What brought you to Vietnam?
Alice Gunawan Matulessy: My connection to Vietnam began long before I actually moved here. Nearly two decades ago, I first visited the country to attend the Asian Travel Market. That initial trip was followed by many others—sometimes for work, sometimes because my husband was already based here. Each visit felt distinct. Vietnam never stood still. Every return revealed a country that had changed, evolved, and quietly added new layers to my memories.
What eventually brought me to Vietnam permanently was, quite simply, my husband and our family. For us, family is not something that can be divided by distance or convenience. We believe deeply that wherever one goes, the family should remain together. So when my husband was officially assigned to work in Vietnam, we discussed it as a family and decided that I would follow him, moving from Indonesia to begin a new chapter here.
At that time, Vietnam existed largely through the lens of his work. I had no clear sense of what life here would look like for us. Yet over the years, Vietnam gradually became something far more profound—not just a destination, but a place where we learned to grow, struggle, adapt, and ultimately, feel at home.
During Covid-19, your family had to live apart. How did that period affect you?
That period was one of the most difficult chapters of our lives. The outbreak of Covid-19 coincided with our decision to return to Indonesia for our children’s education. Initially, we believed the separation would be brief—perhaps a month, or at most three. We stayed in Bali with the assumption that we would soon return to Vietnam. But weeks turned into months, and before we realized it, that temporary arrangement had stretched into two full years.
During that time, my husband remained in Vietnam, while the children and I stayed in Indonesia. Technology helped us endure—daily messages, video calls, Zoom conversations—but emotional closeness is not the same as physical presence. No screen can replace sharing a meal together or simply being in the same space. We relied heavily on patience, faith, and the belief that this separation, however long it felt, would eventually end.
As a wife, I also felt reassured knowing that my husband was in Vietnam. Observing how the Vietnamese government managed the pandemic gave me a strong sense of trust. The firm decisions, rapid responses, and prioritization of public safety—particularly border closures—reflected a deep sense of responsibility toward the collective. Knowing that my husband was in a country that placed safety first gave me peace of mind, even while we were physically apart.
Can you share a bit about your professional background?
I have spent more than 30 years working in the hospitality industry. I am currently working as Vice President of Business Development, Asia Pacific, for Elegant Hotel Collection. The company operates as a pioneering luxury soft brand, Elegant Hotel Collection proudly bringing to market an unrivalled offering for guests seeking unforgettable experiences in distinctive locations around the world. Elegant Hotel Collection empowers its member hotels to maximise their potential by bringing them into a global movement that celebrates independence. Championing travel that is authentic, sustainable, inclusive, innovative and distinctive, Elegant Hotel Collection has a bold vision; to shape a new identity for luxury travel – one that is rooted in place, purpose and passion.
How do you balance work, leadership, and personal passion while living abroad?
Living abroad has significantly reshaped how I balance my roles as a businesswoman, a wife, and an individual. In Indonesia, my work was highly structured, with full-time on-site responsibilities in hotels. In Vietnam, my work has become more flexible—but also more demanding in a different sense. I work remotely with independent hotels, which requires discipline and self-management, while remaining actively engaged in business networks, international women’s groups, and community circles.
This experience has taught me that balance does not come from rigid separation. Work, family, and community are deeply interconnected. Being intentional with my time allows me to feel present rather than constantly divided between roles.
It has also shaped my perspective on women in leadership. Today, women in leadership are no longer an exception—they are becoming the norm, and that is encouraging. Women bring not only expertise, but also emotional intelligence, adaptability, and the ability to manage complexity. Leadership is no longer about authority alone; it is about listening, understanding, and making thoughtful decisions. In Vietnam, I see more women stepping into influential roles, contributing meaningfully to both business and society—and that progress is not just positive, it is essential.
Alongside work, singing plays an important role in my life. What began as a hobby has become a source of grounding and comfort. When I sing, I feel fully myself. Music, for me, is a bridge—it transcends language, culture, and background. Through singing, emotions are shared, connections are formed, and I am reminded that leadership and community ultimately revolve around human connection.
How do you use singing in the community?
As a Christian, I am actively involved in church communities, particularly international churches in Vietnam. I sing in worship bands and help lead congregations during services. I have also been invited to local churches to train young people—helping them develop their voices and use music as a form of service. I see this as a way of giving back a gift that was entrusted to me.
Now looking back, what was your first impression of Vietnam?
My first impression of Vietnam was chaos—endless motorbikes, constant movement, loud horns filling the air. It felt overwhelming, especially coming from a place where honking is reserved for emergencies. Yet beneath that apparent disorder, I sensed something vibrant and alive. The city wasn’t merely noisy; it was breathing. There was resilience, energy, and a strong sense of forward motion.
As Vietnam developed rapidly, what impressed me most was not only how much had changed, but how much had remained the same. Despite modernization, core cultural values continue to shape daily life—respect for elders, strong family bonds, and a deeply communal way of living. These values are not preserved behind glass; they are practiced every day, in homes, on streets, and within neighborhoods. In many ways, Vietnam feels familiar to me as an Indonesian.
When did Vietnam truly begin to feel like home?
That feeling arrived quietly, through everyday moments rather than any dramatic event. When restaurant staff remember our usual orders, when people greet us warmly, when smiles are exchanged naturally—I feel accepted. Those small gestures made me realize that we belong here.
Many foreigners notice that Vietnamese people often smile even when apologizing. To me, that is not unusual—it is beautiful. That smile reflects genuine hospitality. It costs nothing, yet carries warmth and even healing. This is something Vietnam and Indonesia deeply share.
Through the eyes of an Indonesian woman, Vietnam feels profoundly communal. People gather to eat, drink coffee, and celebrate together. That sense of togetherness is visible everywhere—from daily street life to festive occasions—and it is one of the reasons Vietnam feels so welcoming.
Final thoughts about Vietnam?
When I first arrived, I did not know what to expect. But through time, community, culture, and food, I fell deeply in love with Vietnam. I have learned that home does not have to be a single place. Home can exist in many places. And today, Vietnam is undoubtedly one of mine.
Reported by The Ky
Very interesting perspective!