Our driver, enmeshed in a hazmat suit, spoke frantically on his phone with some distant authority. It is a curious experience, as an adult, to be driven somewhere without having any idea of the destination. The pop music whining out of the radio was occasionally mauled by severe static. The mood in the bus was not fearful so much as detached.
This expression, often translated as “Oh my God”, conveyed more of a “For goodness’ sake” in this case. “Are we going to another hotel?” I asked one of the dozen or so passengers on board. It was small, a vehicle for school trips or large families, maybe. I was being “taken away”, as this process is commonly referred to in China these days. A hotel with hundreds of rooms had been frozen for me alone. Outside, the entrance was also cordoned off. We passed the lifts, which were blocked off and guarded, and took the staff elevator.
Then, one escorted me down the deserted hallway. First, they administered a PCR test with the same rushed weariness of the man who had called me earlier. The men in hazmat suits arrived a little later. I’ve just started my shift,” she replied, smiling. “Will the staff be able to leave?” I asked apologetically. “You can’t go outside,” she said, mid-jump. I went to the door of my room and opened it. I was, she told me and added “the hotel is closed”, meaning locked down. “Am I the only close contact in the hotel?” This time it was a woman from the hotel’s staff. Based on advice from colleagues and my previous experience of quarantine in China, these included: tinned tuna, tea, biscuits, three types of vitamin, four varieties of Haribo sweets, Tupperware, a yoga mat, a towel, cleaning equipment, an extension cable, a large number of books, eye drops, a tray, a mug and a coaster with a painting of the countryside surrounding Bolton Abbey in North Yorkshire.įour to five hours later, I received another phone call.
I dashed out of my hotel to stock up on crucial supplies. “I’ll come and get you in about four or five hours.” He was calling from the Shanghai Municipal Center for Disease Control and Prevention. “You need to quarantine,” a man on the other end of the line said in Mandarin. The call came from a number I did not recognise. Simply sign up to the Coronavirus myFT Digest - delivered directly to your inbox.
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