I Didn't Go Back to China
In mid-January, I packed a single carry-on (bad move) and flew back to the US from China for what was supposed to be a one-month vacation. Here I am three months later, still typing this from my childhood bedroom that has been converted into a home office. I really, really wish I had packed more than one bag, but things are replaceable, and it seems like a very small problem compared to what we're now facing as a global community. It's been like watching an explosion in slow motion during the time that's elapsed since I left China.
I was aware of what was happening in Wuhan before I returned home. But at that point in time, it was still a mystery disease that had put a handful of people in the hospital with unexplained pneumonia. The common link with the Huanan Seafood Market had been discovered. Fewer than 50 people were ill and only one person had died from the disease. A week before I left, the novel coronavirus was identified. It very much seemed like a small problem, albeit a troubling one. It wasn't until about a week after I had returned home that the true scale of ball-dropping that had occurred in Wuhan on behalf of the local government started to become clear.
That's when I became really worried, began checking my phone constantly, and entertained the idea that I may not be going back to China for a very long time.
“My return flight back to China came and went, and I wasn't on it.”
Checking China's numbers became a compulsion. I remember when I scrolled down to Daqing for the hundredth time and saw that it finally had confirmed cases. I worried about my friends and students. They were living under conditions that most Americans can't really conceptualize, even now (unless you're living in New York or other hot zones). You needed a ticket to be able to leave your apartment to buy food. Some people were literally being welded shut into their apartments. The footage and stories coming out of China were nightmarish.
I was very much the guy shouting, "The sky is falling!" before the calendar flipped over to February, and although I love being proven correct (as many who know me may attest), I didn't get any pleasure out of it this time. However, I was annoying enough to force the people I care about to make some small preparations, like buying masks, hand sanitizer, and disinfectant, now rare commodities. I definitely did not foresee the toilet paper shortage. The world now knows that the only thing the West is more terrified of than the coronavirus is having to MacGuyver a bidet.
My return flight back to China came and went, and I wasn't on it. There was no point. Every city was under a draconian lockdown, and classes weren’t starting anytime soon (still haven’t). I began to make myself more comfortable at home, setting up a more permanent workstation, and replacing most of my clothes. I really regret leaving my gaming PC there. I haven't splurged on a replacement, but if we're doing this until a vaccine becomes available, I very well might.
What more can I say, really? We're now all in the same exact position. Paralyzed, frozen in place, working from home, and social distancing. Flattening the curve. Slowing the spread. All of these phrases are now part of the lexicon we share. I just wanted to write about my own journey to isolation. I know it's been a lonnnng time since I've posted here. Like you, it's taken me a while to process everything. Just reading the news has been exhausting. The general lethargy from the stress and pressure of this thing bearing down on us has kept me away from the blog.
I'm fine, my family's fine, and right now, I just feel more than incredibly lucky to have left China to weather this back home (more on China and my future plans later). Everyone out there has a lot to worry about, and most people probably have more to worry about than I do. If you do happen to stumble upon this while self-isolating, I wish you well. If you're a healthcare worker or work at a business that's getting us through this, you deserve a medal. ◉
Written by Seth Barham
