Author: Liz

Waking up at 3:30 in the morning for the past few days, my nose filled with the lingering stench of old cigarettes, my mind races. What are we doing in this dingy outdated hotel room when only days ago we were sitting on one of the most beautiful beaches  swimming with turtles and Julia was scooting happily around the neighborhood streets with her friend next door? It’s hard not to question this life decision. 

To date, we’ve been fortunate to have safely played the hands we played in 2020. Moving from Thailand to Malaysia, to Vermont, Michigan, and Hawaii. Assessing the COVID risks, pros and cons of each move, and decisions along the way. Always with some level of second guessing, but never regret.  We feel lucky and privileged to have been in a position to make the moves we did, spend time with family and friends, mitigate our COVID risks, and to have had a lot of highs to accompany the lows in such a strange and emotionally challenging year. 

When the decision to move back to Xiamen presented itself we waffled, but even having the option on the table was pure luck. We were granted visas just as Chinese consulates across the U.S. began denying visas to dependents, leaving several of the people we know without the option. The reality is the plan was always to come back, every move this year has been temporary. We are supposed to be here. 

Yet now that we have arrived, it’s hard not to wonder if this was the right hand to play? A year ago we had what felt like a perfect plan for our family. Live here and experience China, while traveling every couple months, save some money, and return to Vermont in the summer. We are holding onto that plan, but in a post-pandemic world will the ease with which we once crossed borders and the security we felt regardless of our host country still exist or exist again? 

It’s just different here and day to day life is more challenging and less comfortable. I’m weary and blinded by the last 4 months on quiet, beautiful beaches. Right now daily life is less than ideal. We are after all in quarantine, but also the things that we don’t love are amplified – the poor air quality and view out the window, the challenges of keeping in touch that come with the timezone, the language barrier, and other differences.  

What we enjoyed about life here and the good stuff feel far away, like a faint memory. We can’t see friends we haven’t seen in nearly a year, we can’t explore the city, visit our favorite coffee shops and restaurants, and Julia isn’t in school. Yet these are things to look forward to. 

We are hopeful that on the other end of this three week quarantine, having access to the good, to the familiar, a routine, and some “normalcy” will bring the stability that has been missing for most of 2020. We are hopeful that it will become clear we’ve played the right hand. 

36 hours, five airports, and 4 airplanes later we are back in Vermont, self-isolating of course. The day after we flew Malaysia went basically into lockdown and every day China seems to change their strict quarantine rules for foreigners coming in. With Gabe’s colleagues scattered all over the world, and some in lock down, it seems increasingly unlikely his school’s campus will reopen this year.

Ironically with very few new cases trickling into China, Xiamen would have been the safest choice. Yet, our fear throughout this whole ordeal hasn’t really been contracting COVID-19. (Although admittedly now that we are in the States, it is becoming more of a concern.) Part of what kept us away from Xiamen for so long was the uncertainty of daily life and the fact that, as foreigners, we’d have to navigate rapidly shifting pandemic policies with little control. As people used to a different kind of predictability, and aware of the privilege that comes with that , it pushed us outside our comfort zones. It didn’t feel quite right watching from afar as family and friends’ daily lives were beginning to shift rapidly and drastically to a “new normal” shrouded in uncertainty. While there’s nothing we can do or offer, there’s comfort in being in the same hemisphere and on the same soil.

The journey home was long and exhausting. Like everyone on our China Airlines flights from Malaysia to Taiwan and Taiwan to San Francisco, and virtually no one on our domestic U.S. flights, we wore masks. I realize given the scarcity of protective medical equipment this perhaps isn’t a good thing, but it attests to awareness and gravity of the situation. We wiped down our seats, screens and tray tables as soon as we sat down. On our flight from JFK to Boston everyone was seated in the middle of an otherwise empty plane so we moved to the back, an easy way to distance ourselves and a step that should have been taken by the flight attendants in my opinion. Before we landed in San Francisco we were asked to fill out a simple CDC form about our past travel and recent health history, no one collected those forms. One security agent asked if we’d been to China in the last 14 days, other than that you would have never guessed COVID-19 was a thing. The only reason we knew coming from Malaysia to call the Vermont Department of Health after we arrived was because we happened to see it on their website. It was all concerning to say the least, especially coming from a region where this has been top of mind for months. I don’t know what steps should have been taken, but the lack of much of anything feels like a disservice to Americans but especially to those who are working the frontlines and will be in the months ahead.

Take care of yourselves and each other, while maintaining the appropriate distance apart of course.