<![CDATA[What my coronavirus tour taught me: Hong Kong is stoic, Italy laughs, Abu Dhabi swabs and Malaysia lags]>
As fate would have it, in the past month I have travelled to Italy as the coronavirus was accelerating from nuisance to epidemic; Hong Kong, where the virus has been held in check; Malaysia, where numbers were less stable than appearances suggested; and the UAE, still in the early stages of the virus.
Reflecting on these experiences, my impression is that the public in these countries is at various stages of a journey from annoyance to denial to shock and acceptance. After my snapshot visits I believe this is a time for compliance and not for scepticism, a time to assert the rights of the group rather than those of the individual.
In late February I was visiting my in-laws in central Italy. Cases began bubbling up in the north. My in-laws like to have a TV (in Italian, tee-vu) on throughout the day in the living room. Quickly the virus was all the television channels were talking about. The coverage was not in the least informative, it usually featured panels of people shouting over one another, or interviewers who valued conflict over clarity. This empty coverage fed the scepticism that many people felt about the virus " it's just a flu, it's an overreaction, they're feeding us lies! This was further nourished by the profound contempt " even hatred " that many Italians feel towards their federal politicians.
A woman waves an Italian flag in Naples, Italy, amid a coronavirus lockdown. Photo: Reuters alt=A woman waves an Italian flag in Naples, Italy, amid a coronavirus lockdown. Photo: Reuters
I too was sceptical towards the virus. On the night of February 28 I was part of a stand-up comedy show in Rome. Inevitably, many of the jokes were about the virus and the audience was receptive to them; they needed a release from this induced anxiety, the non-stop media drumbeat of corona-corona-corona-Don't Panic!-corona-Don't-corona-Panic! Panic!-corona-corona-etc. One joke I wrote for the show was that this was the first disease in world history that more people were sick of than sick from. At the time that was how people felt, though a week later the sentiment would seem ridiculous.
On February 29 my wife and I flew back home to Abu Dhabi. I had to leave that same evening for Hong Kong, where a friend's illness had turned for the worse.
On the way out of the capital of the United Arab Emirates I entered the e-gate as usual but it would not let me through. An immigration agent said I had to go to their office around the corner and speak with someone. In the office, an official asked me where I was going. He said to be careful about the virus and warned that if I caught it, there was no guarantee I would be allowed back into the Emirates.
This was not something I had expected. But the effect, as intended, was to make me more cautious. While awaiting my flight I went to the airport pharmacy to buy a face mask.
The next morning I transited through Bangkok. They would not let me transit until I had undergone a temperature check, after which they put a green-and-white sticker from the Thai health ministry on my passport to confirm I was good to go.
Hong Kong was where virus prevention really hit home.
As my flight descended towards the city, an in-flight announcement said passengers should be proactive in revealing their travel history to officials. And inside the arrivals area, warnings were posted that the penalty for lying could be a very long stint in prison.
Medical staff outside Princess Margaret Hospital in Hong Kong. Photo: AFP alt=Medical staff outside Princess Margaret Hospital in Hong Kong. Photo: AFP
As I approached the queue for immigration, workers held signs that instructed passengers to declare if they had been to Italy, Iran, South Korea or mainland China in the past 14 days. It had not occurred to me as I journeyed towards Hong Kong, not even two hours by air from the virus epicentre in Wuhan, that it was Italy that should be the cause of concern; but events were moving quickly.
I told the customs agent that I had been to Italy. He directed me to a cordoned-off holding pen. Maybe five minutes later a medic arrived and took me to an underground medical area. Another doctor, a tall young man who spoke very clearly, held up a map of Italy that showed the virus-stricken northern regions in red. He asked me which parts of the country I had visited; I told him only the centre, just north of Rome.
He directed me to a nurses' station for a temperature check. They gave me a brochure with advice on avoiding the virus, and had me fill out a form with my whereabouts. And then I was clear to enter. In all this process was clear, effective and quick: impressive.
The streets of Hong Kong were another world from Italy. Almost everyone was wearing a mask. Queen Mary Hospital, where my friend was being treated, would not allow me onto the premises without one. Friends who were already at the hospital had brought extra masks so that I would not be caught short in the days to come.
In Kowloon, Kennedy Town and Sai Ying Pun, Hongkongers were going to restaurants and cafes but typically they wore their masks until it was time to eat. The servers almost always wore masks. This was compliance, and it is paying off: at one point, people were fleeing Hong Kong for Europe and the US to escape the virus, now there is evidence they are doing the return journey.
Still the virus is exacting a toll on Hong Kong. The economy is suffering, and when I left on March 8 the airport was ghostly quiet. I was the only person on my shuttle to a satellite terminal, where shop clerks wore the glazed look that comes from having next to no clients.
My sense in Hong Kong is that people were not complying reluctantly, or with nationalistic pride, but rather with a steady sense of determination.
Malaysia, where I stopped over for 20 hours on March 8-9, was a different story still: no questions at the airport, and no face masks on the streets. A cousin took me to a Buddhist temple in Kuala Lumpur for lunch, where people shared long tables and took food from common pots. This was startling after Hong Kong. So perhaps it is not surprising that on March 15, Malaysia reported its largest single-day jump in cases, with 177 new cases confirmed, nearly half of them related to a gathering at a mosque.
Finally on the night of March 9 I returned to Abu Dhabi. Bearing in mind the official's warning a week earlier, I wondered whether I would be allowed back in.
With the other passengers I passed through an area where our temperatures were checked by a camera. Further ahead, the e-gates were now all closed. I handed my passport to the immigration agent. Before I could disclose my travel history, he had scanned my passport and was staring grimly at the screen before him. He pointed me to the curtained-off nurses' station for a virus test. The nurse took a swab from my left nostril and said that was all. I returned to the agent and he let me enter.
With all this in mind, I have decided to try to be ahead of the curve. The UAE did not ask me to quarantine myself, and I show no signs of illness, but I am being cautious. Mostly I stay home; it helps that my freelance work enables this. I try to avoid places where people gather. I've stopped going to the gym and probably will stay away for another week or so. In sum, social distancing.
And it's not just me. Even the famously fractious Italians have taken the extremes required for virus prevention to heart. The hashtag #iorestoacasa (I'm staying home) is all over social media. Children are making posters with rainbows and the slogan "Tutto andra bene" (Everything will be okay). Sicilians are singing from their balconies.
I would suggest others accept that the virus will get worse before it gets better, and restrain their social activity. Stay home more. Reduce the risk. Do your bit, wherever fate finds you.
The author is a writer and editor in Abu Dhabi
This article originally appeared on the South China Morning Post (SCMP).
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