I decided to return to South Korea, though I put myself through a series of mental gymnastics in order to reach that conclusion. As a lover of planning (and yes, a textbook Libra), I laboured over all possible outcomes. What if the virus gets worse again in Korea, even though right now the numbers are improving? What if my school stays closed indefinitely, leaving me without a job in a foreign country? What if someone I love gets very ill? What if it becomes impossible to fly back home, and I'm stuck? What if I stay, and I'm stuck? (Can you tell I have a lively fear of restrained choice, despite my chronic indecision?)
In the end, after delaying my flight a couple weeks and navigating social distancing in Toronto, I chose to fly back for April 1st, coinciding with the cautious reopening of my hagwon (private academy). A choice is a precious thing to have in dire times (as is a job of course), and deep down I knew that I wasn't ready to leave my life in Korea. Fortunately, I didn't have to make that call for safety reasons, because so far South Korea has proven itself as one of the few countries to 'flatten the curve'. Graphs show a nearly straight line in new infections, from a peak of 909 new infections reported on February 29th to only 30 new cases on April 11th, just six weeks later. I want to detail my experience for you, from airport arrivals to mandatory quarantine, to illuminate some of South Korea's strategies in fighting our new collective enemy, COVID-19.
|
Daily new cases as of April 16th, 2020. |
Direct flights from Canada to Korea had ended, so after a 13 hour flight from Chicago- during which I managed to mostly pass out, despite the concerning lack of social distance in a flying tin can- I landed at Incheon International Airport on April 1st. This was the first day Korea was implementing a mandatory two-week quarantine for all international arrivals, regardless of nationality, a measure which was previously only applied to arrivals from Europe or the U.S.
As we left the aircraft, passengers were greeted by a line which stretched onwards for the equivalent of blocks. While airports are of course notorious for patience-testing lines, this was very unusual for Incheon International, which is known as one of the world's most efficient airports. Returning from my vacation last winter with my resident card in hand, I was through immigration and security in literally 15 minutes. It was becoming increasingly clear that a major shift had occurred in the month I was gone, and that foreign imports of the virus were now a bigger concern than domestic cases.
|
The line- and this was just the people behind me. |
The line led to the quarantine control area, at which there was a multi-step process in place. A young staff member walked up and down the line, checking people's phones to see if they had followed instructions to download a government monitoring app, designed to ensure that people stay in their homes during the fourteen day quarantine period. I was one of very few foreigners in line, and he kindly helped me find the correct app (turns out the Korean government has a surprising number of apps available). Closer to the front of the line, staff were checking if our various travel and health declaration forms had been filled out properly.
|
A weary traveller struggling to wear her glasses. |
Having passed these tests, and jetlaggedly juggling multiple papers, my passport, and my phone, I approached the quarantine counter. These staff were wearing protective plexiglass face screens, and they took my temperature (an acceptable grade of 36.6). I was worried that it would be difficult to appear beaming with perfect health as I had just travelled continents and time zones, but they seemed concerned only with our temperatures and any stated symptoms (of which I had none). I then approached staff who looked like they were working a phone-a-thon, since they sat at tables equipped with phones that had surely been in some storage room since the 1990s. They were testing our phone numbers, to confirm that we could be reached by phone, and making note of our home addresses as well.
|
Airport quarantine control. |
|
Some people were taking extra precautions. |
|
Finally, I entered the regular immigration area for foreign passport holders, which was totally empty. At this stage there was a brief mix-up. I had been mistakenly outfitted with a lanyard designating me as a new ward of government quarantine facilities, a fate I wished to avoid if possible, since I have my own apartment near work which I've laboured to make quite cozy. The government facilities are available to visitors without a residence (such as those who planned to stay with a friend, or at a hotel), at a daily cost of approximately $115 CAD/day. Fortunately this was cleared up, and I was free to collect my luggage and leave the airport by designated bus, train or direct taxi. Any other routes or stops would be noted by the government phone app, which tracks location constantly using GPS.
I arrived at my apartment on the evening of April 1st, grateful for the travel ordeal to be over. I had provided immigration with my employer's phone number, and they contacted her to ensure that I understood the terms of my quarantine (use the app, and do not leave your apartment, period). She also informed me that I had an appointment for testing scheduled that Friday, April 3rd. It was also on April 3rd that I received a text message from my assigned local health official, who texted me every few days to check in, and also answered my questions (such as if I had to keep all my garbage, the answer to which was unfortunately yes). My new friend also sent me a Kakaotalk message, which included characteristically Korean use of emojis (Kakaotalk is the most common social messaging platform in Korea).
|
Only in Korea does a civil servant send you an emoji of a smiling dog. |
|
I had to walk to my local health centre (being barred from public transit) to be tested for COVID-19, which took about 30 minutes, and was honestly a blessing because it was a beautiful day and I was already missing the outside world. I was also asked to wear a mask and gloves. On my way out of my apartment, I saw that I had received my quarantine box from the Korean government. The contents of the (free) box were pretty awesome, and also had the effect of making me feel more cared for and less alone in my isolation. They included spray disinfectant, hand sanitizer, disposable thermometers (I had to report my temperature 2x a day), and 20 KF95 masks as well as a pack of more basic masks- a considerable amount given current mask scarcity. The box also included enough ramen and dried seaweed to last me weeks, instant rice,
jajang (a black bean sauce for a popular noodle dish,
jajangmyeon), and cookies.
|
Contents of my quarantine care package from the Korean government. |
|
The testing area had been set up outside Hanam City Hall, and was entirely outdoors. I was one of very few people there that afternoon. First I approached a plastic tent, in which health officials were talking to patients via those '90s era phones I had previously seen at the airport. I announced myself through the phone and held my passport up to the plastic wall, thereby signing in with zero direct contact. I was then led to the back of the building, where individual tents were set up for testing. The test itself consists of a mouth swab, which was painless, and a second swab taken so far up your nose, I literally didn't even know you could put something up there. It was super uncomfortable, but over quickly. I then left around the other side of the building. The whole process took under 20 minutes, and five days later I was informed that my test result was negative.
|
The Hanam City Hall testing centre. |
|
A public message about social distancing. |
|
Having been through this testing and quarantine process, I can definitely say that South Korea is handling the threat of imported virus cases in an efficient, well organized and compassionate manner. I'm interested in learning about the conditions at the government quarantine facilities, but my home quarantine experience was a relatively positive one, especially given that I'm not a Korean citizen (though made easier through my social ties here and my knowledge of Korean systems and customs, having been here for one year already). I'll be returning to work and reentering society with a sense of cautious optimism for the situation here, in my home away from home. If you're in quarantine and struggling with loneliness, please know that you're not alone! You can always reach out to me here or on Instagram (@onlyconstantly).
With all my love,
Frances
Comments
Post a Comment