I love the white noise hum of the plane. The dusky sky outside the plane windows lifts my spirit from the toil and troubles of work. Sat facing forward, I catch glimpses of a Chinese movie with Hong Kong undertones. I know of no other country that operates as functionally as ours right now, under such fearful circumstances. I say “ours,” because I’ve lived here for close to three years now, longer than any other place I’ve lived abroad, and because I am ethnically Chinese, even though I don’t identify as “Chinese” in my daily life. I’ve felt some shame about this, on and off. I don’t want my mindset to be identified as Chinese, and yet, so many parts of me, my demeanor, my functioning, my modus operands, are Chinese, are about survival and moving forward.
My mom had a hard life here, which she almost never spoke about until 2 years ago when she came to visit me. After 40 years, my mom’s return to China began in my old Shanghai, French-style apartment. My grandmother on my dad’s side fled to Taiwan on a boat, all who were on the boat short of drowning. Their lives were about survival. I’ve had so many conversations with family members, local and international colleagues, and Americans about what China will be, how what China will be... will be.
Now we are operating quickly, steadfastly in this part of the world, pushing full steam ahead. I am all full of strangeness, bewilderment, confusion. It’s strange to know that my mother and father, newly retired this year in New York City, have spent nearly all of their retired life locked down within the 70 square meters of their home. It’s overwhelming to begin to acknowledge the many mindsets, viewpoints, emotions, of Americans in life under quarantine without an end. “Life” is still happening. Death keeps rolling in. I never imagined my country, my U.S., faltering the way it is now. When COVID first started in China, and I was fleeing to Cambodia, almost exactly one year ago -I really felt pride in being American.
“No way America would ever handle the virus the way China did, keeping it hidden, under wraps, silencing...” But no, we did worse. We spread misinformation, and we let our neighbors die.
America, having gotten the heads up on the transmissible and deadly nature of the virus, continued to let it spread without precautions in place. It let people die, especially the poor and underprivileged. Because of the actions of select individuals, whole portions of society continue to have to stay at home, living in fear and in misery. To always be in a protective state, that’s not how we were meant to be. We were meant to be collectivist. Trump isn’t the only one to blame. We made choices. We choose the individual over the rights of others to be healthy and the rights of others to keep their loved ones around. It seems like every day lived, you'd have to choose one or the other with how long it's been going on.
I’m so disappointed. We didn’t believe that things could be different.
I exist in another world, Christmas in Shangri La, full moon karaoke parties on Vietnam beaches, reasons to celebrate... How strange it is to be safe, while nearly every “other” person in the world remains affected. Is it some form of survivor’s guilt? It’s not like any of us escape unscathed.
Getting “home” to Shenzhen was wild after being locked out of China for 9 months. I forgot I even had an apartment in another part of the world. When I walked through the doors of my Shenzhen home, there was all my “stuff,” my face washes, my clothes, my niceties...
These days, I spend most of my days working. I’m exhausted, plugging away on my laptop until 11 p.m. each night trying to hire people to come to China, or trying my best to be very present with the kids who come laying on my knees in the book nook. Life is normal here, and besides masks on every single person on public transport, and the occasional scare from someone newly-entered from abroad, corona has little presence. It feels like China skipped some steps.
What feels odd is that while the rest of the world heals, falls apart, and puts itself back together again, China’s economy keeps chugging along. Long hours, commutes with young people packed in like sardines, kids eating and playing in close proximity to each other at school.
I know I’m supposed to feel grateful, for having a job, for being able to continue my studies. Something about this feels unnatural though, surreal, and also inhumane. I’ve been thinking about the idea of suffering being universal. I must acknowledge that I feel very disconnected.
Expatriates cannot leave China to go home to their families, Americans are not allowed in, as the risk has been deemed too great, and the borders are once again closed, for who knows how long. I don't know when the next time that I'll be able to go "home" to New York CIty is without two-week quarantines on both sides. For those of us “stuck” here on holiday, we are also hoping to throw out 2020 with you and hoping for something better in 2021.
