Travels In The Time of Coronavirus

This isn’t a post I was particularly inspired to write. However, friends kept coming to me and asking me about my experiences in the time of Coronavirus on my travels, and then in some cases directly telling me to write a post about it. So, what can you do?

I don’t really want to pull too many punches. I’ve been in a number of countries since the news of the virus first broke, and seen first hand how different societies have dealt with the challenge. I would say that the most shocking thing I have experienced on my travels has been… returning to America.

In difficult times, the thing that tends to keep people going I’ve found is a sense of togetherness. I’ve visited a number of countries since the outbreak, and even in places where people have not had faith in their government, there has been a sense of resolve. The idea has universally been that “we are going to do what we’re going to do to get through this.”

But I think there’s also a sense – and evidence – that strong measures help. I don’t only mean that in terms of government lockdowns, social gatherings and sports matches being cancelled (or played behind closed doors), but also of companies stepping up to protect both their customers and themselves.

In Singapore, no one was allowed in or out of my hotel without temperature scans. In Bangkok, not only were temperature scanners installed at office buildings and shopping malls, but employees were on hand to dispense hand sanitiser upon walking into most buildings. Most shopping malls even had attendants with alcohol sponges standing at the foot of escalators, holding them against the handrails so that they would be disinfected.

In Japan, of course, 90% of people on the streets were wearing masks. Westerners have variously disputed the need for masks or disparaged those who wear them, saying that it’s only necessary if you are already sick. But with a virus that is often symptomless, especially in young people, it is admirable to see precautions being taken to unknowingly prevent it from spreading.

Earlier in the year, before the pandemic had been declared, Singapore Airlines was the first company I fly with to contact its customers with a synopsis of the steps they were taking to keep planes and staff safe. The missive outlined processes from “disinfectant fogging” to seat, headset and screen wipe-downs. It is worth asking of course why these steps aren’t taken all the time, but it was impressive. Thai Airways removed blankets and pillows from their flights, for “hygiene purposes.” Did it make it more difficult to sleep on an overnight flight? Yes. But of course you understand. Again, it begs the question of why these items aren’t cleaned to the degree that it would prevent transmission of illness at all times anyway – but perhaps this can prove to be a moment where these can look at their policies and change them for the better.

Conversely, I flew several flights on an unnamed US-based airline, which issued their guidance several weeks after the virus had taken hold. On a number of occasions, lavatories hadn’t been cleaned from the previous long-haul flight before boarding the plane. And even after guidance was issued to customers, it was clear owing to the amount of dirt a simple alcohol wipe was revealing, that planes weren’t being properly cleaned either.

The lack of mask culture also finds its way into food preparation. 80% of the countries I visited in Asia had staff  wearing masks in all restaurants across the board who were involved in the preparation or delivery of food. In Los Angeles, both before and after self-isolation measures had been widely encouraged or adopted and restaurants went into take-out and delivery-only mode, I haven’t seen this being the case anywhere. I also haven’t encountered this in my limited experiences in supermarkets, where cashiers come into contact with hundreds of customers a day.

The hoarding of food and supplies is something I experienced only mildly outside of America. Upon arriving in Singapore, my Grab driver expressed embarrassment about the rumours of toilet paper and basic supplies running out. But I didn’t see any issues with stock in supermarkets there, as I didn’t in Thailand, Japan or Mexico. Anyone needing most basic supplies could have simply walked into a supermarket and purchased them, in cities far more densely populated – and in many cases less well resourced – than Los Angeles.

In the airports, foreign air carriers such as ANA altered their food service by removing open buffets from their lounges and replacing them with pre-packaged snacks. Meanwhile, the aforementioned US-based airline continued to display food openly even as passengers were hacking away in the lounge (of course, upon seeing all of this, I quickly exited their lounge).

Probably the most shocking and stark difference between America and the rest of the world is at its ports. I’ve gone through many passport and customs controls since the beginning of the year. The only country not taking temperature scans at the border was the USA. The only country that didn’t ask more questions beyond whether I had been to China was the USA (I accept this may be in part because I am a USA resident and so it is clear I am returning home, whereas I am not a resident of other countries). The only country that did not even have hand sanitiser available at border crossings is the USA. Finally, the only country that did not have sanitiser available at all security screening checkpoints (and in some cases, any checkpoints) used by passengers was the USA.

To be absolutely clear, I’m not saying any of this to call out the people working at the airports or the borders. I have the most sympathy for them because they are the hardest working people and the lack of resources in place put them at the most risk. It isn’t fair to people working in those circumstances to potentially be faced any number of infected passengers, and to be lacking in basic hygienic strategies employed by countries far more under-resourced than America.

While I was on my travels, I read a post from the prolific blogger Jason Kottke about his recent trip to Southeast Asia. There was one line at the end that resonated in particularly with me and others:

“America is a rich country that feels like a poor country. If you look at the investment in and the care put into infrastructure, common areas, and the experience of being in public in places like Singapore, Amsterdam, Paris, and Berlin and compare it to American cities, the difference is quite stark. Individual wealth in America is valued over collective wealth and it shows.” – kottke.org

You should read the full post. It’s not so much about this, rather it’s just a cool travelogue of his experience in the region. But I kept thinking about that excerpt. Not only is it true, but the sad thing to me is that not only does that mindset stop America from fulfilling its true potentially as a culturally rich country, it also holds America back from looking after its citizens in any number of ways. Especially during a pandemic.

The last time I returned to America, the fear had really set in amongst my friends. The news, compared to the rest of the world, was highly politicised and highly sensationalised. In moments like that you need resources that you can trust and people that you can believe in. While people have been concerned and nervous about my travels, I have actually felt far more exposed in America. Many days, during the current “shelter in place” period of isolation, I wish I had stayed away. It’s hard to feel that way because that’s not supposed to be how you feel about America.

As I said before, in difficult times the most important thing you can have is a sense of togetherness. I hope America gets that back, because together, with proper planning, proper communication, and proper awareness, America can handle the coronavirus challenge as well as those in much less resourced countries. The whole world would be better off for that.