Coronavirus – An Englishman in Hanoi

I was nervous the whole time from when I stepped out of my dorm! I was even worried about whether the Uber driver would let me ride — I remember I had trouble getting an Uber the day before my flight because I was wearing a mask. Two Ubers took one look at me and drove off.
I was more freaked out than the average person because I had a tickling cough that occurred at night so it was really stressful.
– Vanessa, a student at UCL

One aspect of social media that has been personally beneficial to me, in all this, has being able to contact those living abroad. I was fortunate enough to make some brilliant friends in my time in Asia, and through Zoom and Facebook I have been able to check on their welfare, whilst also gaining insights into how respective governments have responded to the pandemic.

Certain countries in East Asia have been praised immensely; focus has centered on their efforts at contact tracing – ‘test, trace, isolate’, and imposing early lockdowns. Viewing the actions of these governments through a western lens, I must admit, I found this aggressive approach a little, well, disturbing. Data was swiftly released online on the whereabouts of an infected Vietnamese woman in Hanoi; where she had dined for lunch, which streets she had visited, all following an hour-by-hour timeline throughout the day.

Taiwan has only had one death from the Coronavirus

The libertarian in me was shrieking at privacy laws being violated, but in all honesty the question is, what privacy laws?

How then, can this approach be navigated by overwhelmed Western countries trying to learn from the East, whilst simultaneously maintaining individual rights of privacy?

To hear a personal story on this, I have been able to contact a student at UCL. Vanessa, a student from Taiwan, came to London to study Arts and Sciences. Just before the U.K. government imposed lockdown, she took off for Taiwan; desperate to get home.

We talk about her experiences of flying, the lockdown and lessons to learn from the Taiwanese government.

Vanessa, Student at University College London

Hello Vanessa. You study at UCL. I heard you decided to leave for Taiwan before the lockdown was imposed. Can I ask what led to this decision?

V: Initially I just wanted to return home for the month-long Easter holiday, so I booked a return flight perhaps a week before UCL announced cancellation of teaching. However once UCL announced the cancellation and the cases began to rise, I became really anxious and decided that Taiwan was the safest place to be, so I was going home for a long while. I moved out of my dorm in the days before my flight; 18th of March.

In the light of the constantly circulating news, it must have been scary to board the plane. Can you tell me what the atmosphere was like at the airport? Was it busy/quiet, and were people being very careful about their proximity to others?

V: I was nervous the whole time from when I stepped out of my dorm! I was even worried about whether the Uber driver would let me ride — I remember I had trouble getting an Uber when I had to move stuff to my cousin’s house the day before my flight because I was wearing a mask. (Two Ubers took one look at me and drove off.)

Gatwick was super quiet, lots of shops were closed and there were no crowds as we walked around the shopping area on the way to the gate. Most people weren’t that cautious about social distancing, except when we got to the gate and it was mainly Taiwanese people. They took it very seriously and were prepped with PPE. I was more freaked out than the average person because I had a tickling cough that occurred at night so it was really stressful.

My family and I got a mass text that we were in the same area as sailors from an infected navy ship

I have read that Taiwan has been praised for its response to the pandemic. Do you feel safer in Taiwan than the UK? And what lessons could have been learnt by countries such as the UK?

For sure! I’ve never been so relieved to go home— at that time Taiwan only had 50 cases while the UK had over 1,000. Before I boarded, my friends sent me a QR code to fill out my health particulars online before I boarded, so that when I landed I would be allowed to bypass the long lines for health checks. I also got tested at the airport along with my friend because we both declared on the form that we had minor cold symptoms and wanted to be on the safe side. The process was surprisingly not intimidating and very efficient, I got out of the airport in a little over 2hrs, and headed home to begin my 14 day quarantine.

Some lessons that can be learnt from Taiwan’s example:

Tracing cases early on and containing them before community transmission gets out of hand. For example, my family and I got a mass text that we were in the same area as sailors from an infected navy. Their locations were posted publicly so people could take measures…

If you don’t have a suitable quarantine place for whatever reason, the gov. will provide a place. It’s pretty decent quality, despite the ruckus from that BBC article.

My parents left me food on a tray outside the door daily

On your arrival into Taiwan from the UK, did you have to go into isolation for a period of time? If you did, can you tell me what that was like?

I definitely felt that I was in safe hands from the way the quarantine was carried out by the Taiwan CDC. I stayed in my own room the whole time, and my parents left me food on a tray outside the door daily. We all wore masks if they needed to speak to me at 1.5m distance. My mum screams if I accidentally get too close!

My phone signal was tracked as well so that I couldn’t leave or I would be fined. I received a packet of masks from the Gov. and special trash bags for my own use to avoid contaminating others.

After my quarantine I was free to leave the house, and I noticed a lot less people on the streets. Everyone wears masks; it’s mandatory to wear them on public transport. Stores check your temperature and spray your hands with alcohol before you can enter.

Taiwan is located only 130km from mainland China. Are you able to comment on the initial atmosphere after arriving home from the UK? Was there a lot of fear and panic ensuing in the country?

The week I arrived home was the most severe since the outbreak. The atmosphere was not panicked; more vigilant and cautious. There wasn’t much panic buying since masks were rationed from the start – right now every 2 weeks we can collect 9 masks; 1 mask costs 5NTD.

On a personal note, your studies have now been disrupted. Do you still plan to continue studying, and do you have plans to return to the UK?

Like all UCL first years, our exams/ assessments are canceled and replaced with one pass/fail capstone assessment. I plan to return for Second year this September, unless the situation is still terribly dangerous.

My phone signal was tracked as well so I couldn’t leave or I would be fined. I received a packet of masks from the Government and special trash bags for my own use to avoid contaminating others.

Finally, I was reading that Australia is supporting Taiwan’s return to the World Health Organisation (WHO). What is your opinion on Taiwan’s status in regards to this?

Taiwan has definitely received a lot of international support for attending the WHO conference, but as of yet the WHO isn’t budging and is unlikely to do so. Taiwan has been benefiting from a boost in global status thanks to mask diplomacy/healthcare, but once the pandemic starts to decline I wonder how quickly other nations will forget Taiwan’s role and what it offers for the global response.

Once the pandemic starts to decline I wonder how quickly other nations will forget Taiwan’s role and what it offers for the global response.

Thank you, Vanessa. Some very insightful answers.

Next time, I hope to talk to a Filmmaker in China.

Until then, ciao.

It is necessary that the daily becomes heroic and the heroic becomes daily.
John Paul II
By the dim lights of Delhi, I saw hundreds that night, under trees, shrines, intersections, on benches, squinting at newspapers, holy books, journals, Communist Party pamphlets. What were they reading about? What were they talking about?
But what else?
Of the end of the world.
Aravind Adiga, The White Tiger

Reading this article in the New York Times Magazine, for some reason, set off a chain of events in my head. Both moving and personal, this account of a photographers desperate attempt to portray the unravelling crisis in Northern Italy, all the while underpinned by his own family’s precarious circumstances, is a very moving read.

It is a very moving account of how the pandemic first seized power on the people of Northern Italy, and of the heroic actions of the medical staff who desperately tried to put out fires, whilst also trying to maintain their own sanity.

It struck me that this photographer, Andrea Frazzetti, realised quite instinctively what was unfolding. This was in contrast to some of his family, which, like the much criticised government, were slow to react. Unfortunately, as has been seen, this lethargic response proved to be deadly.

Of course now the present is far from perfect, but in the midst of all that has been happening in Northern Italy, some light at the end of tunnel gingerly seems to be filtering through. Of course, I do not want to speak too soon. I have not dwelled on my time in Italy, but it does strike me how in many ways, I left just before the explosion. Just before things got really bad. I was even in Bergamo in early December. All these places have recently become stamped on our collective consciousness.

My time in Milan was chiefly characterised by instability. Dragging my belongings from hostel to hostel down busy roads in the Porto Romano, finding a few chic cafes and a little home-made vegetarian place VegAmore – which I’m sure has been hard hit, but I do hope has not been closed down – my life ambled on chaotically. You could almost make a film of it; set to the Benny Hill music.

I was very fortunate to meet some great people at the Queen’s hostel. There was a group of South American, mainly Brazilian, guys who worked there. Mostly volunteers, they showed me some of the magic and delights of Milan. It was still a shock, to have come from a small city such as Groningen to a bustling metropolis like Milan, and suddenly having money to spare too.

Undoubtedly things went from bad to very bad, quite quickly. It became apparent that finding somewhere to live would not be an overnight endeavour. I had this strange double-life, with people I met at the Hostel and then business-as-usual at the school. I remember going to a flat viewing with an Italian actor, who had spent time in the hip Brent Cross in London, and seemed to spend much of his day meditating and doing a form of Yoga I had never before witnessed.

One morning, I tried talking to him, and he told me not to disturb him, “the problem is, I need to spend the whole day in the Vortex, Tom.”

However, this was a man who went by the moniker ‘Baby Rush’.

Now of course, looking back, it feels like I was incredibly fortunate. Not that I didn’t bring some of the hardships on my self. But the constant chaos with its brief respites, which mainly consisted of hanging out in the cold sunshine of Park Sempione with a Brazilian girl I had met at the hostel, seems now to be a trite comparison to the current state of affairs.

My problems were never really problems in the grand scheme of things. Mine was only one story, meandering its way through the rubble and street-life, just as many were doing. To look back and appreciate in its chaos, a learning curve, is to unequivocally accept what I could not accept at the time. The option to see the trees and the wood.

The people I knew from my short time there, are all fine. So that is great. Of course, their lives have been greatly affected; the school I worked at is of course closed down. The hostels too, no doubt, will not be offering accommodation to either the needy or the less needy.

I remember one evening after work, nearing the end of my time in Italy, feeling a little lost and depressed, I took a walk to the centre of the city. I hadn’t wanted to go back to the hostel, nor see the Duomo and its surroundings, so I went walking.

It was a week-day and this was a shopping precinct, so it was quiet. Just the dazzle of the nearby glass interiors of the shops, Christmas glowing from inside, like the belly of a colourful beast. The lights spilled out onto the streets. The occasional Tram went by, and a few cars cruised down the central road. I remember seeing tinfoil and feeling dazed from the lights.

I saw a homeless man. He had nothing but his dog and a tent. No-one bothered him, and he was busy – moving his things and preparing for the night. I approached him with a smile. At first he was taken aback, and scoped me out. Seeing I did not pose a threat, he relaxed and looked at his dog, who was sleeping. I handed him a beer, and tried to speak in broken Italian. He responded in broken English. We had an awkward conversation, then enjoyed a drink and looked heavenwards. The stars were out that night. Hopefully they are still out for that man. Hopefully, somewhere now, he is in a good place. Perhaps a better place. I’m lucky enough to say I am. Cliched as it is, right now, only time will tell.

Tag: Coronavirus

Talks with Students II

Vanessa, Student at University College London

Dreams of Italy