“The rule was simple,” Caroline illustrates. “If you couldn’t see land, you’d toss the dying into the water.”

One particular group of refugees set their boat on fire – a tactic designed to provoke their receiving country into countering the blaze. Ploys like these were desperate, but for most, represented a necessary choice between survival and certain death.

“I tried empathizing with them, putting myself in their shoes. When I was in my twenties, I tried to wrap my head around it, but couldn’t truly understand. Now, over a decade later, I have a much greater appreciation. Knowing the language really helped – it allowed me to listen attentively. I think the pictures ended up more genuine as a result of those conversations. I’m actually related to a handful – they were harder to interact with.

“When you document your own family, there are more walls in the way, like pride. The others were easier to document, with no preconceived notions.”

Encouraging some of the women to wear conventional outfits, Caroline champions her Chinese roots – ties she’s all but overlooked, until recently.

“I didn’t wear any customary clothing until this year, and that was the first time,” she admits. “It was subconscious, but I think I was ashamed to dress that way. I was trying to adapt to a more Western style. I would always embellish my attire as fusion, as opposed to something wholly original.”

Caroline believes her community has a role to play in the worsening crisis. For her, a lot of Asian Americans have adopted a vindictive outlook – particularly with reference to the way elders are treated in their native circles. It’s an attitude she intends to challenge at every opportunity.

“In some ways, we’re guilty as well. We tend to be very judgmental and racist, even amongst ourselves,” she concedes. “It’s about projection – the things you hate about yourself you attach to others. Because our grandmothers and great-grandmothers didn’t speak English, a lot of people didn’t regard them. It’s odd that our culture reaffirms this idea of valuing seniors, but in reality, I don’t think we do. We don’t listen to their opinions. It’s a very superficial level of respect, right down to their care and needs. They’re treated like kids.

“Ignorance can be bliss, and well-intentioned. What baffles me is that we don’t believe they can handle it, which is ironic when you consider what they went through!”

Without question, old age can mean infirmity, but it also solidifies wisdom. Insight is an invaluable tool, and in more ways than one, it’s a form of strength unto itself.

“I started documenting this piece of history because I needed to show them as dissimilar to how they’re stereotypically perceived – stoical, fragile, feeble. This was about the reverse.”

Personifying the nature of these seniors, Caroline Tran’s snapshots reveal hidden tenacities. In spite of incalculable odds, here are people who’ve learned to laugh again. Cheeks may be streaked and damp, but this time, there’s a difference. There, deep in the eyes, the fear has gone.