It started as the Wuhan Flu until it was described as coronavirus, yet know the World Health Organization (WHO) officially called it Covid-19. With this name it contains the “Co” from Corona, “vi” from virus, “d” from disease and the “19” for the year it started. No location or race associated, no ominous connotations implied, just a simple deconstruction of what the disease is; it’s Covid-19, and Hong Kong–no all of Asia, is feeling the wrath of it.
When the news of Covid-19 hit Hong Kong, we fled during our Chinese New Year vacation. We went to Thailand, to escape to the beach, and listened to the outbreak’s early spread. We stocked up on face masks while even they were flying off the shelves in a Thai beach town. We learned the kids would have virtual learning for one week, then two; now it’s up to six weeks of virtual learning from their bedrooms, sometimes beds. I was tempted to stay in Thailand, but I was outnumbered by three: the family wanted to be in Hong Kong plus worked called us back.
Meanwhile, during our isolation amongst one another in a town where one rarely ever feels alone, there’s not much outreach from the rest of the world. It feels odd. I don’t blame them–I haven’t reached out either, but I haven’t heard from my folks. And there’s really no need. I feel safe. I mean, I am safe. I wear my mask when necessary. I wash my hands frequently. There are no crowds to avoid. I don’t think I will catch Covid-19. I take the necessary precautions one should at this time. Yet, there’s just this extreme sense of loneliness and isolation that’s present right now in Hong Kong–usually a rich bustling vibrant major city that’s just at a bit of a stand still right now.
*This blog post has been added to Catherine’s #iwillwearwhatiwant link up.
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