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Writer's pictureMaxi-Ann Campbell

Somewhere in the Middle

August 25th

Classes start on Friday, which is just a few days from now. I spent some of the day working on my syllabus, which was mostly finalized in July, but I still needed to personalize it. I also worked a bit on my course site. However, I spent much of the day just drowning.

My last blog post was titled “And we’re staying… until Christmas.” At least, that was what was decided at the end of June. So, you can imagine my surprise on August 2nd when I received an email stating that the university was going to try to bring everyone back over the next few weeks to a month. Unexpectedly, those who administer what are called “PU Letters” (oddly, no one knows what PU stands for) informed our university that they could invite a larger group of faculty back than was originally assumed possible.

It seems that the first act was then for the university to quickly survey each person on where they were to see if a mass return was in fact possible. The second act was to determine if getting a chartered flight was a possibility (it wasn’t). So, the plan was to contact people in stages with information on how to apply for visas, help them book commercial flights, and see what could be done about the required quarantine process that foreigners have to do once they return to China.

When I got the first message, it contained precious little information about what the process was, given that I think no one was sure what it would be. However, the timeline made it seem as though it was possible that I could be back on campus before the start of the semester. The idea of being able to teach in-person certainly appealed to me. Also, living in China costs me a lot less per month than living in the US. I did feel bad about all the money I had spent in July thinking we’d be here another 6 months, but I’d probably still save more in the end going back.

Also, can I be honest? When I first heard that I was getting this PU letter, being invited back into the country when there was a general restriction on foreigners entering, I felt kind of special, you know? I was like, “Yeah. China values teachers, too.” We’re not as important as business executives, but we we’re a priority. 

Despite the financial benefits and the boost to my ego, I had many concerns. My biggest concern was Ben’s parents taking care of Alaya. To my family, Ben and I are Alaya’s parents. To his family, Alaya is just another member of the Xie family. My relationship or connection to her wasn’t much more important than Ben’s parents’. This view, however, could cause serious issues when it comes to raising Alaya the way that Ben and I believe is best, since what Ben’s parents believe is best is just as important (at least as far as Ben’s parents are concerned). Ben’s dad frequently gives lip service to the idea that he would take care of Alaya the way that Ben and I valued, but I could easily imagine him deciding in a given moment, that he did really know best and simply doing what he wanted to. He’d also expect us to be grateful for his insight and care for Alaya, even if he was doing the exact opposite of what we had asked. This I knew from experience

However, in China, especially the city I lived in, there weren’t many other childcare options beyond Ben’s parents. Also, having my mom go to China and help us is not an option right now, and no one knows when it will be again. This relates to my second concern, which is that I don’t know when I’ll be able to return to the US once I leave. Given how much flights cost right now, restrictions on travel, and all the other environmental and health issues happening around the world, when will I be able to come home again? When will my family be able to travel to see me again? This is the first time that I’d be leaving and home wouldn’t just be the cost of a flight away.

This email also caused some whiplash. After finally mentally adjusting to the thought of spending fall teaching remotely in the US, I was now suddenly thrown back into a world of uncertainty. When would we be able to go back? What was the process before departure, upon arrival, during quarantine, and after? My mind began to swim with possibilities. I wished that I had Ben’s ability to ignore problems until they were more imminent. 

Over the past few weeks, the more I’ve learned about the process, the more my stress has increased. First, the timeline. It began to become clear that getting back to campus before the start of the semester was not a possibility. In fact, getting back before mid-September was the earliest date HR was suggesting anyone consider. We got our PU letters pretty quickly, and I was able to collect the documents for my visa application in 24 hours. However, Alaya needed a travel document, and it was unclear if I would have to go to Washington, D.C. in person to get that. Before we could learn more about her situation, the consulate closed operations for 2 weeks due to a confirmed case of COVID-19. At this point, it still has not reopened, and I don’t know whether I’ll need to go to D.C. with Alaya. I hope not, if for no other reason than the trip would unnecessarily expose Alaya who can’t wear a mask at this young age. 

Until I have a visa and travel document in hand for myself and Alaya, I can’t book a flight. At the moment, flight options are expensive; there are also few to choose from. Even so, the goal is to fly out at the end of September (around the 26th), in the hopes of arriving in China before the National Holiday. This year the National Holiday and Mid-Autumn Festival overlap, leading to an extended holiday. This means that from October 1st – October 11th, there are no classes. Given that we need to quarantine for 14 days in China, this is a good time to travel mid-semester. My thought is that if we can’t go back during this holiday, it’s simply not possible until the end of the semester. 

Here’s why: Quarantine. Or as someone I know personally described it, the closest we will get to know of what it’s like to be in solitary confinement.

In China, quarantine is centralized. When you arrive in Shanghai, you must quarantine at a hotel chosen by the government for 7 – 14 days. If you live, as I do, in a neighboring city, then you will quarantine in a hotel in Shanghai for 7 days and a hotel in your city for 7 days.

  1. When you land in China, they take you off the plane in groups. There are many forms to fill out, QR codes to scan, and of course, health checks. You will have a swab in both nostrils and down your throat. They test everyone, including young children. It’s unclear if they will do the nose swab for very young children like Alaya or do a throat swab instead. After reading news articles about a newborn and a toddler dying after a nose swab broke in their nose canal, I will start an international conflict if anyone tries to put a swab down Alaya’s nose. They will deport us first. 

  2. The process of getting off the plane and to your hotel can take as long as 7-8 hours, during which time you are neither offered food nor water. You must pack enough food for 14 days that does not need to be refrigerated in case your hotel food is crap, and/or you don’t have a refrigerator in your hotel room. One colleague who has already returned had a refrigerator in her hotel room, but it was locked.

  3. Each person is quarantined alone. This includes people who are married. If you have a young child, then he or she can stay with one parent. (So, what might that look like for me? It means a possible 14 days in a hotel room with Alaya. It seems some families can quarantine together, but it’s not guaranteed. It’s one of those things that’s up to the person / situation you encounter).

  4. You are unable to leave your room for anything. You will be provided food 3 times a day (left outside your door). Whether or not you can order food or other items to your room is completely at the discretion of the hotel you end up at. You do not get to choose your hotel. This is also purely up to chance. 

  5. On the fifth day of your hotel stay, they will test you again for COVID-19. They will repeat this process again before you finish your quarantine. They will then test you a 4th time 7 days post-quarantine. They will test you a 5th time 14 days post-quarantine. Yes, they test you 5 times in 28 days for COVID-19.

  6. If anyone on your flight tests positive for COVID-19, you will be taken to the hospital and treated as a “close contact.” If your child, no matter the age, tests positive for COVID-19, they will be taken to the children’s hospital for treatment, and you will not see them again until they test negative for COVID-19 and are discharged from the hospital. You are not allowed to visit at all.

If that all doesn’t sound harrowing enough, trust me that it can get worse. First, there is this little thing called jet lag. I keep forgetting about it given everything else I’ve mentioned. But imagine what that’s like for you and a toddler when you can’t leave a small hotel room to recover from jet lag. Also, the hotel room you are put in might not be clean (which is a bit ironic given why you’re being put there). You could have little or no Mandarin skills, and you may not have any instructions provided in English once you leave the airport. 

When I learned what was necessary to get back in, I seriously considered quitting my job, having Ben’s parents pack up our apartment, and shipping back anything we really wanted.

This would all be an adventure, another great story to tell, if I didn’t have Alaya. I’m okay, not happy, but okay with the fact that in China, you don’t actually have agency or control over your own person. In a way, it really belongs to the state, as does your property and other possessions. However, I am significantly less comfortable with China having control over Alaya’s person. The idea that they could take her from me and not return her until she had a negative COVID-19 test result is terrifying. I feel like she could suffer serious psychological trauma from such a separation, and I would have no power as her parent to stop this from occurring.

In the United States, there seems to be an excess of independence. When I say excess, some people think that wearing a mask is a personal choice during a pandemic that has taken the lives of hundreds of thousands of people worldwide. In China, there is an excess of collectivism. When I say excess, I mean this country will systematically imprison people for 14 days without them having committed any crime for the greater good. 

Ben and I need to find a country somewhere in the middle.  

**The featured image is from Alaya’s first birthday party, which was carried out on Zoom. I hope she will have many more birthdays to celebrate, though I hope this will be her last one on Zoom. Her birthday was the highlight of this month for me.

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