Beijing Coronavirus Diary: Part 1
The Abrupt and Gradual Changes
Age: 29 | Gender: Female
Occupation: Social Media Manager
Location: Beijing, China
Quarantine Status: Quarantined with friends, Working/Studying from Home
State of calmness: A little panicked when I was caught in the middle of the outbreak in the middle of a holiday but I’ve never felt calmer since I arrived back in Beijing.
Reaction to local/state/federal response to the area: Schools are closed. World’s biggest working-from-home experiment. Anyone returning to Beijing after the Chinese New Year holiday period is subjected to a compulsory 14-day quarantine. Apartment complex management issues entry/exit card for residents. Temperatures are taken before entering any places.
Day 0: Reality Hits
January 24th, 2020
When the seriousness of the virus was just starting to be revealed, I had just left Beijing to begin my Chinese New Year vacation in Fuzhou, south-east China. The day before I left Beijing, on January 20th, Zhong Nanshan, an epidemiologist who worked with SARS, visited Wuhan and finally admitted that human to human transmission was possible (which prompted officials to finally take measures).
At the time, I was mainly excited to make the most out of China’s very few public holidays. I had initially thought Fujian would be a better option to get away from the threat of the virus since a few cases were already detected in Beijing. Meanwhile, Fujian still had 0 coronavirus case in the province.
On January 22nd, my housemate back in Beijing sent me a message about the flu outbreak. She told me to purchase a mask as a precaution to which I replied, “I’ll buy some when I return to the city. I am currently in a rural area, doubt I can find anything”. Perhaps thinking that I was not taking her warning seriously, she added, “This outbreak is serious, the virus seems to be similar to the 2003 SARS. If you start coughing or feeling feverish, head to the hospital immediately”. Another friend who had gone back to Shanghai for the break also told me to immediately purchase masks and disinfectant, since these items had run out in both Beijing and Shanghai.
On January 23rd, Wuhan was placed under lockdown. On the same day, I arrived in Xiamen city and managed to purchase a few masks without any difficulty. I remember thinking “I shouldn’t purchase too many since I already have a few back in Beijing. I don’t wanna overstock” (Oh, if only I had known). Most people on public transport wore masks by then. Even my Airbnb host greeted me wearing one too — even though he wasn’t wearing any when I met him to drop off my suitcase two days ago. The apartment building had begun taking temperatures for anyone entering the building.
Back to the present day on January 24th. Remember Fujian’s zero cases of infection three days ago when I left Beijing? There are now over 100 cases detected in the province. when I take the ferry to the German concession Gulangyu, all passenger’s temperatures are taken before boarding.
I am not usually a hypochondriac — if growing accustomed to other people’s spitting habit here isn’t proof, I don’t know what is. However as the virus is proving to be serious, I now find myself coming home to my Airbnb at the end of the day feeling like I’m covered in filth. I undress by the door, then tiptoe around the apartment, trying to touch as little surface as possible before washing my hands. In addition, I also make sure to wash all the clothes and clean my shoes at the end of every single day spent in Xiamen. I am growing to be enjoying less and less of this trip as each day passes. Being outdoor is becoming a chore because of all the clean-up I have to do after.
The gravity of the situation finally hits when the hotel at my next and final destination, a photogenic kelp harvesting village (the primary reason I decide to visit this province in the first place), informs me today that they have to cancel my reservation.
A student who is studying in Wuhan has just returned home to spend Chinese New Year with his family, only to later discover he is COVID-19 positive. The hotel owner profusely apologizes and immediately gives me a full refund, which such a gracious move coming from a small business owner. If any of you ever end up in Xiapu, Fujian, please forward my thank you to him.
I quickly cancel my Xiapu — Beijing train ticket (full refund, I’ve never been so grateful for the flexibility of Chinese trains) and book a flight due to fly out on the 26th evening. So goodbye for now, Fuzhou.
Timeline:
(based on Ted interview with Gary Liu, the CEO of SCMP)
Dec 30th: Dr Li Wenliang posted on a private WeChat group about a mysterious SARS-like disease, which went viral on Weibo.
Dec 31st: The first time Wuhan city officials were made aware of 27 COVID-19 positive cases. China reported it to WHO, but Dr Li was reprimanded.
Jan 18th: Beijing officials denied the SARS-like threat of the disease.
Jan 20th: Zhong Nanshan, an established epidemiologist who was a key figure during the 2003 SARS, visited Wuhan and admitted that human to human transmission was possible.
January 23rd (last day before Chinese New Year): Wuhan is put under lockdown.
Note: Chinese New Year period in China marks the largest annual human migration on earth with 40 million people making 3 billion trips across the span of 40 days. By the time Wuhan is under lockdown, at least 5 million people from the surrounding area have started their travel plans. However had this lockdown been any later, the damage would have been even more catastrophic.
Day 3: Having the right information helps make the right decisions
January 27th, 2020
At 3 am, I am finally back in my apartment in Beijing, only to discover that my housemate’s four cats have made a big mess in the past few days they were left alone. I guess cats go crazy when they are bored too but I am too tired to care. After waking up at noon, I spend a good few hours cleaning up their litter boxes, airing the whole apartment, changing my bedsheets as well as a dozen other housework to make this place habitable for humans again.
There isn’t much in the fridge so this is one of the rare times I utilise Waimai (Ubereats equivalent). Personally, I hate ordering food delivery because: Eating out is an experience in itself; I don’t like eating alone. However, Beijing winter is dark and depressing. It is -10 Celsius right now and I’d rather not freeze my bums in the cold by wandering around trying to find any open restaurant. So I open the Waimai app, and as guessed, there isn’t much option since most places are still closed for CNY.
I settle with congee (rice porridge from South China) which is usually a comfort food when I’m sick. Don’t we all need a little bit of comfort right now? Less than an hour later, a Waimai delivery guy turns up with a bowl of piping hot congee, duck egg, a box of steamed jiaozi (dumplings shaped like ears) and xiaolongbao (Shanghai dumpling, a delicacy perfected by the Taiwanese chain Din Tai Fung). As I dig in though, I realise this is easily the worst congee I’ve ever had. The dumpling skin is abnormally thick too. I should’ve known that these Northern Chinese can’t get xiaolongbao right. Plates are licked clean though, cause you know … hunger. However, I know from hereon, I have to fend for myself and start cooking. (Spoiler: This will be the new life skill I gain during the quarantine).
Inthe late afternoon, I venture to the nearest grocery store. Like everyone, I put on the mask that I’ve kept in stock for polluted Beijing days. The supermarket attendee (Walmart greeter equivalent, except this guy, doesn’t do greeting or smile) hands me a little plastic cart along with a plastic glove. I quickly realise that I cannot find some of the usual ingredients I use to cook, not because they run out of stock, simply because these are not common items in Chinese grocery stores — no parmesan (not even the disgusting powdered ones); no sugar-free yoghurt (most yoghurts in China are flavoured or slightly sweetened, which are delicious by itself but not ideal for making sauces or dressings), though at least I find butter (phew).
A side note: I have always found Asian cooking intimidating because I am the sort of cook who needs to know precisely how many tbsp or grams of ingredients required in a recipe. East and South-East Asian cooks, on the other hand often use the standard of measurements like “a pinch of this, a pinch of that”. In addition, any Chinese dish I have made so far pales in comparison to the version I have back at home, so why set myself up for disappointment? Hence in the FEW times, I have cooked in this lifetime, I resort to recipes like caramelized onion and butter pumpkin leak soup. So now, not only I need to cook for myself, but I also need to start cooking Chinese specifically.
Back to the world of coronavirus, the data on the development of the spread of the infection is posted daily if not hourly. I limit myself to checking it once a day, otherwise, I may go insane seeing its spike especially since it’s something out of my control — so for those starting quarantine, control your media/news intake and no point panicking over something you can’t control. Here on WeChat, I can see the live data on the number of cases recorded in hospitals around me. Having the right information is crucial in alleviating panic. During anxiety-inducing times like this, “what you don’t know will not hurt you” principle definitely does not apply — and all governments should recognise this.
Friends and families have been telling me to return to either Indonesia or Australia. However knowing Indonesia’s lack of preparedness for the spread of the disease and the level of healthcare, that is not an option. In addition, Australia just mandated a quarantine/border closure for anyone who has been in China in the past 14 days. So in Beijing, I remain.
In all honesty, I am not too worried about the virus since:
1. The infection rates in Beijing is comparatively low;
2. The city is supposed to have some of the best hospitals in the country; and
3. Anyone infected at this time will have their treatments 100% covered.
Most friends have also left the country for the holidays so there is less temptation to congregate, and I make a pact with the few who remain that we’ll get around to see each other after this thing blows over. I’m not a billionaire so I can’t be in a yacht wandering the world (nudge David Geffen) but this is the best possible situation for anyone in China right now.
Day 10: Maintaining attitude and perspective
February 3rd, 2020
Yesterday marked the last official day of Chinese New Year holiday, however, workplaces require staffs to work from home for the time being. Most of China has decided to self-quarantine, for their sake and others. Only a handful of people dare to go out and it’s mostly for essentials like groceries. Nothing else is open except for grocery stores and parks anyway (in Shanghai, even parks are closed). Everyone’s temperatures are now taken before entering any park, building, subway station, even our own apartment complexes.
I was initially worried about supermarkets running out of fresh food but all stores remain in stock. While some people buy an extra kg of meat here and there, no one seems to hoard. If anyone hoarded any toilet paper, I surely had missed all the action (lol). However, some citizens did try to take advantage by buying up essentials needed to fight coronavirus, like masks and disinfectants but regulators are pretty quick in mitigating these. Later in March, a Shanghai court sentences a woman to 3.5 years in prison for unlawfully hoarding 1,800 x 5-litre containers of 75%medical-use alcohol and attempting to profit from it. Unlike most of the other times, being an asshole right now doesn’t go unpunished. In addition, hoarding masks is now branded with a stigma. I guess societal pressure in collective-cultured society does work.
I had only moved to Beijing on Christmas Day. Prior to vacationing to Fuzhou, I was busy with starting a new job, handling visa matters (Chinese work visa is really tedious) and catching up with friends I hadn’t seen for months after my July graduation. Hence I hadn’t really explored this new neighbourhood of mine. So I brave the cold to soak in the brief hours of sunlight two, three times a week and pick up some groceries on the way back.
The supermarket is fast becoming a place that reminds me of normalcy. They are now a place of refuge since they are the only place where I get to see other human beings congregating and doing the same thing. Furthermore, these short walks have to lead me to discover 2 parks nearby and another supermarket — a fancy one owned by Alibaba.
This Alibaba supermarket is entirely cashless since the payment can only be made on the app. I am not surprised, this is China, after all, the land where apps and QR codes reign. Downloading and setting up were completed under 5 minutes since the app connects straight to my Alipay account. I love it when technology works seamlessly.
In my first visit, I spotted a couple of bags filled with groceries transported around the supermarket on a suspended track and when the staffs informed me that this was their home-delivery system. When I tried to use the service the next couple of days though, I discovered the delivery slot was always full by 11 am. Apparently the service is still operating with limited drivers, seeing that most people are yet to be back in Beijing. Since I’m only cooking for one, I can definitely make the 500-metre trip and let the people who need the service the most use it.
Two sides to every coin: One one hand, many Chinese silver-generation individuals (aged 60+) end up learning how to order groceries online during this quarantine period. They even surprise their children by ordering their groceries for them. On the other hand, some low-income families in cities where grocery stores aren’t open due to the compulsory quarantine, are finding it hard to shop online since they usually purchase from in-store bargain bins.
In terms of cooking, I am proud to say that I have been preparing every single meal myself. My sister refers me to Woks of Life which has put me on the right path to becoming a Chinese kitchen goddess (or rather, an ‘Ayi’ – Chinese auntie). Most of the recipes are foolproof and the ingredients are widely available at my nearest supermarket. Even if you are not in China, invest in some light soy sauce, dark soy sauce, Shao xing wine and sesame oil and you’re good to go.
I’m glad this unexpected situation forces me to conquer my silly little fear of Chinese cooking. Besides, scouring recipes and planning my meals allow me to wake up with anticipation every day. Delicious meals do wonders to the body and mind in quarantine. Through trying out new recipes to prepare a nourishing meal for myself, I also finally get to learn so much about ingredients that are not available anywhere else.
This newly found time also gives me an opportunity to work on my writing and blog. I finally have time to go through the thousands of photos all the way from Helsinki to Chongqing. I didn’t even realize how incredible the photos I took in Inner Mongolia last year (haha) — gotta give myself a pat on the back for that, since no one is around to do it. After jotting everything down from memory, I need the shit out by researching these places in depth. In a way, writing these travel journals/guides not only makes me re-appreciate these places but also grows to be a mental escape out of the walls of my apartment.
In one of my wanders around the neighbourhood, I also discover that I live right next to the 100-year-old Beijing Zoo. Now I’ve got something to look forward to when this is all corona BS is over. That’s another two-cent from me: Having something to look forward to after the quarantine will help you maintain perspective.
When I tell some friends about the zoo, they reply, “Instead of near the zoo, you should live inside the zoo. That’s where you belong”. Are good friends and dark humour included in your quarantine survival kit?
Day 17: Doing what you can to help, no matter how little
February 10th, 2020
The rules are getting stricter now. My apartment complex management is implementing new measures to follow the recent government’s requirements. People arriving from outside of the city now have to self-quarantine for 14 days. My 14-day period has now passed so I was actually never imposed a compulsory quarantine. However, my housemate who just returned from her hometown has to remain home for an entire 2 weeks. Fortunately for her, she’s got me who won’t leave her to starve (though that means eating some of my failed cooking attempts).
It’s amazing what a period of confinement can do to two souls. While we hadn’t previously spoken much to each other, in matter of days, we’ve done home karaoke together. Apparently I’m not as good as I thought in Chinese rap. She also introduces me to some praiseworthy Chinese movies. We are now much more comfortable with each other’s company, so much so that she has the audacity to tell me to stop buying groceries because the fridge is full, to which I replied, “We either get a bigger fridge, or I need to get a new housemate”. Regardless, I’m glad that this time allows me to finally get to know the person I share a roof with.
The shortcut to the local grocery store is now locked, so there is only one entry and exit point for all residents. Residents are also issued entry/exit card with our names and unit numbers since non-residents are not allowed in the complex until further notice.
As a result, food and package deliverymen can no longer deliver right to our apartment doors. Instead, we now have to pick them up at the complex gate. In the beginning, I rushed down to receive every single package every time a delivery man called. After a while, climbing up the 6-storey staircase multiple times a day became a bit much (Most older buildings in Beijing don’t have lifts installed if they are less than 7 storeys high).
Hence I began asking the deliverymen to leave the packages by the gate for me to pick up in one go. So far nothing has been lost, even when it’s left overnight. An item was wrongly delivered once, but this was easily retrieved by the deliveryman without a hitch. The only pain about this is the fact that from now on, I have to carry the 20L gallon of drinking water 6 storeys up. The wonders this will do to my bottoms though.
I am fortunate that my apartment complex management isn’t as strict as others. I have heard of security noting down the coming and going of each resident and actually limiting their frequency/periods outside. As a result, some people only leave their apartments once every week or two weeks. The inconvenience for me has been minimal and I haven’t heard anyone complaining. I have however read about several building securities facing aggressive backlash when they tell off residents who leave their homes without a mask.
Indonesian embassy in Beijing and Hong Kong have also distributed masks for Indonesian citizens remaining in the cities. That’s truly surprising considering I haven’t heard any other embassies being as proactive. As I headed towards the embassy on the other side of town (the fancier side where most foreigners live), the Indonesian Society WeChat group started flaring up with messages of people requesting help since universities are not allowing students leave the campus ground for the time being.
There are also those who live about 2 hours away from the embassy and fear the possible infection should they make the commute. I, along with a few other individuals decided to help by picking the masks up on their behalf and organised delivery services to deliver them accordingly. It’s a very small act, especially compared to the volunteer drivers in Hubei who are day by day, putting themselves at incredibly high risk by driving medical staffs in the locked-down cities. Regardless, this small act leaves me feeling slightly less useless in this time of crisis.
In hindsight, the brother of a friend in Indonesia said that if I were to return to the country, I was not allowed in their home. Regardless whether this comment is a joke, it is plain hurtful. So I can’t imagine how Asian individuals in other countries must feel when they face similar comments, directed right to their faces.
In contrast, a friend from the Netherlands who is keeping a close tab on the development of the virus said if I were ever to leave China and not have a place to go, I would be welcome to stay with his family. This restores my faith in humanity as well as my own judgement in selecting friends.
It is unlikely that I will leave China without a hassle since some countries are putting barriers or control measures for anyone spending time in the country in the past 14 days, but your words still matter, people. A crisis can be a good time to assess the relationships you have invested yourself in. Unfortunately for some which have proven to keep incurring a sunk cost, it may be time to cut your losses.
This post is part of the series which details my experience as a coronavirus bystander with 2-month 'head start' in China.1. Beijing Coronavirus Diary: Part 2
The New Normal2. How to Use Up Our Finite Time
10 tips on staying sane during a quarantine3. Humanity vs Coronavirus
Is this really the face of humanity?I hope these stories will show you how parallel our lives can be despite the divide in space and time.
