Covid-19 chronicles: With love, from quarantine

It is now day eight of quarantine in Sydney with my two boys.

The MAS flight carried only 28 passengers due to border capacity limits. While I was never a fan of flying, the cabin crew reminded me of this feeling I had whenever I flew with MAS and experienced warm Malaysian hospitality. I do not miss flying, but I do miss what flying on MAS represented—the excitement of going somewhere new, the feeling of national pride, and that lingering last familiar taste of home before embarking on to the unknown.

Upon arrival at a quiet airport, we were ferried to a few checkpoints with health officers who scanned our temperature, ran a Covid-19 symptom survey, and gave us information about what awaited us in quarantine—in particular, two more swab tests to which the boys protested heartily. Otherwise, despite coming from a nine-hour flight, my boys were fairly well behaved, and the officers we met were pleasant, professional and very friendly towards them. Out of the airport, we were greeted by armed forces (including air force personnel who took interest in the model airplane my five-year-old was carrying) who helped us with our luggage onto a bus. We arrived at the lobby of a hotel, spent a few minutes getting registered by the health desk and then we were brought to our keyless home for 14 days. This is travel in times of Covid-19.

Despite some horror stories about quarantine, we were blessed with a nice apartment with a balcony. The hotel gave a welcome basket full of Australian goodies, we received three meals and daily calls to ask if we were doing okay, and we were even sent complimentary barista coffee, coincidentally on Women’s Day, with a card saying “Thinking of you” (I have never received anything as nice from anyone for Women’s Day before). Suffice it to say; despite the expected unpleasantness of getting swabbed on Day 2 of quarantine (I had a little cough and the nurse swabbed me extra thoroughly), seven days being indoors with two kids has been pleasant.

The striking memory of our first night arriving in the city lingered. While we sat in masks on the bus taking us to our public health imposed ‘prison’, everyone on the street around us were walking maskless in groups, or lining up to get into packed restaurants happily on a Friday night. Sydney had been Covid-19 free for over 50 days, with a few cases only diagnosed in quarantine. Barring compulsory mask wearing in supermarkets and strict international arrival procedures, the city appears to be returning to pre-Covid-19 normalcy.

Malaysia’s first movement control order to contain Covid-19 began on March 18,2020. After a few more versions of lockdowns, a year of limited movement, cancelled events, new norms and prevailing uncertainties, the roll-out of awaited vaccines and falling case numbers both in Malaysia and worldwide, brings some cautious optimism that the beginning of the end of Covid-19 is near.

Now, as we hopefully near the end, what are some lessons learned? Firstly, at the start of an outbreak, early public health actions that are effectively implemented are the most likely to give appreciable results. A drawn out pseudo ‘lockdown’ becomes a source of confusion, fatigue and does not contain the problem in the long-term. Secondly, once an outbreak is controlled, interstate and international travel must be handled with extreme caution especially in the absence of tools such as vaccines that can be deployed quickly to contain new outbreaks. Thirdly, a highly contagious virus does not discriminate; therefore no one should be neglected or be given special treatment, and everyone should be treated with compassion and respect. There are many more lessons, but these are the main ones that I reflect on since writing this column a year ago.

Perhaps a fourth lesson, beyond Covid-19, is that there are always blessings to be thankful for and love to hold on to, even in tougher times. Planning travels under times of Covid-19 has been complicated, challenging, and frustrating. But I have been blessed with love and support from family, friends, colleagues and strangers.

For perspective in quarantine, I am reading The Worst Journey in the World by Apsley Cherry-Garrard, an account of Scott’s 1910 final polar expedition. There were many objectives for the expedition, but it was first a scientific journey to study life in a place antithetical to life. At the ends of the world, the coldest, driest and windiest spot on the planet, the Adélie and Emperor penguins live, breed and instinctively remain. The winter expedition aimed to retrieve eggs of the Emperor penguin, to study the early development of penguin embryos to uncover their secrets of adaption to their harsh Antartic habitat. It is a beautiful and uplifting narrative of how passion and perseverance in exploring this world can overcome even great tribulation.

“Under its worst conditions, this earth is a good place to live in, ” wrote Henry Bowers, a member of the team.

This, Bowers wrote, at the end of his description of a heavy storm at sea where their ship tipped and rolled, submerged, leaked, and was on the verge of sinking. Bowers would later die from frostbite in a blizzard with his companions at the tragic end of the expedition. But that will come later. For now, I am still getting acquainted with the cheerful members of this expedition—people who lived and breathed science and adventure, who brightly endured while toiling in the darkest of stormy nights at sea. People who explored and endured foreign and extreme ends of the earth, some losing their lives, just to bring home some specimens and stories.

Indeed, as we hopefully begin our preparations to return to a Covid-19-controlled world, as we begin again to make plans for events and travels, it is perhaps a comforting thought that certainly the world with Covid-19 is still a good world to live in. In times of stress, fear, death and disease, we saw scientific progress, innovation, kindness, solidarity, and a renewed appreciation for freedoms and lifestyles we took for granted.

Days 9 and 10 are said to be the most challenging of quarantine. But I have air to breathe, a comfortable home with comfortable climate, good food, the company of my children, kind calls from friends and family, work that I can do, and a good book to read. I look forward to keeping some memories from this passing stretch before continuing on to the next chapter of my journey.

In the meantime, my heartiest congratulations to The Star for 50 years of telling the nation’s stories and keeping her memories. Among these, Covid-19 is featured, but it too shall soon pass and become a fading memory. I wonder what stories will we remember to tell of Covid-19, fifty years to come?