Coronavirus Experiences from Asia: A Personal Perspective
The coronavirus outbreak began in China and quickly spread across other countries in Asia. Now, amid a global pandemic, some Asian countries are experiencing a second wave of imported cases. We asked a number of locals to share their experience of what it’s like to live in Asia right now.
Stephen Lioy in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan
Stephen Lioy is a writer who has been based intermittently in Kyrgyzstan since 2012. All international passenger flights to Kyrgyzstan have been suspended indefinitely aside from three weekly routes to Russia. Citizens have been advised to avoid gatherings of more than 50 people, and public spaces (cafes, restaurants, banquet halls) with seating for over 50 have been shut down. The government announced a pending state of emergency, but no details have been provided about the upcoming regulations. Currently, only 12 known cases exist in Kyrgyzstan, with at least an additional 649 patients in quarantine due to recent travels or suspected contact with known cases.
Coronavirus cancelled my wedding, which was meant to take place on March 21 in Istanbul. Once the WHO declared a pandemic on March 11, we told our friends and family not to travel as borders appeared to be closing quickly. I was already in Istanbul taking care of last-minute preparations, having previously flown to Berlin days before for another cancelled conference.
Alone in Istanbul, I initially opted to wait until March 18 to avoid issues since I had been outside Germany for 14 days. Kyrgyzstan soon began to introduce tighter restrictions on who could enter, eventually denying entry to all foreigners. However, when the government announced an exception for spouses of Kyrgyz citizens starting midnight on the 19th, I rushed to the airport to try and gain entry into the country. Luckily, we had prepared the necessary legal documents and registered our marriage in Kyrgyzstan prior to my departure!
Currently, I am on day 5 of a 14-day quarantine in a former US military facility beside Bishkek’s airport, now reopened as a quarantine center. The journey to get here was far from smooth; I had to convince Turkish Airlines staff to let me board the flight and subsequently persuade local border guards not to deport me upon arrival. The rules have been changing rapidly, leading to confusion and miscommunication among officials, and I faced threats of deportation from several guards during the six hours I waited for an entry decision.
Quarantine is undeniably dull, yet conditions are manageable. The facility is somewhat grimy, having seen little upkeep since the US base closed in 2012, but the essentials are provided, and there is a sense of camaraderie among residents. For now, we wait. Two weeks cannot pass quickly enough.
Paul Clammer in Beirut, Lebanon
Paul Clammer has been living in Beirut since 2018. Lebanon has declared a state of medical emergency, closing all non-essential businesses. Hospitals, pharmacies, bakeries, supermarkets, and grocery stores remain operational, while all citizens are urged to stay at home. Beirut International Airport and all land borders are closed until at least March 29.
Like many travelers, I found myself in the wrong location when the world began to take coronavirus seriously. Fortunately, Lebanon introduced its travel ban in stages, granting me enough time to present my residency card—my permission to travel—at the airport check-in desk and return home before the quarantine doors closed permanently.
My partner and I are now self-isolating for 14 days. Thankfully, we have a sunny balcony, and our jasmine is just beginning to blossom, serving as a reminder that normal life will eventually return.
Beirut, a typically noisy and vibrant city, is growing quieter as citizens heed the government advice to stay home. The Corniche, the city’s beloved promenade, is deserted. Traffic diminishes daily; however, the abundance of delivery scooters has become increasingly beneficial. This is a city where you can order a shisha (water pipe) for home delivery.
Grocery stores remain well-stocked, though some are requesting customers to send their shopping lists via WhatsApp and wait outside while their orders are assembled—delivered by masked and gloved employees.
Even before the pandemic, Lebanon faced significant economic turmoil, having defaulted on a foreign debt payment for the first time ever. This crisis follows the popular revolution (or thawra in Arabic) that began last October, amidst massive protests against state corruption. The thawra has been fueled by national pride, with the Lebanese flag flown everywhere in recent months as a symbol of unity amid adversity. Such an attitude bolsters spirits as the nation confronts this extraordinary crisis.
Tom O’Malley in Beijing, China
Tom has been living in Beijing for 11 years. He is the author of the forthcoming 12th edition of the Beijing travel guide.
As I write this, Beijing enjoys warm spring sunshine and blue skies, heralding the noteworthy news that for the first time since lockdown began in January, China has recorded no new local infections. This significant achievement has been the result of an enormous effort to “flatten the curve,” an endeavor facilitated by the robust and swift response of an authoritarian government.
The mood in Beijing is cautiously optimistic as residents emerge from their collective hibernation. While schools have reopened in some parts of China, they remain closed in Beijing. Most tourist attractions are still shut, but parks are buzzing, coinciding with the bloom of the first cherry blossoms. We are growing accustomed to the ‘new normal’ of wearing face masks, undergoing constant temperature checks, and having our phones scanned to track our recent movements.
In a city normally characterized by throngs of tourists, Beijing now seems unusually quiet. Anyone entering the capital—even from nearby cities like Tianjin—must undergo a 14-day quarantine at a government facility, segregating them from family members. Unsurprisingly, many are choosing to stay away.
Consequently, businesses that cater to tourists, such as hotels, restaurants, and travel companies, have suffered greatly. Areas like the hutong (Beijing’s historic inner-city lanes) have implemented checkpoints, allowing only residents through. Normally, this time of year, we would be dining al fresco on the roof terrace of the Orchid or sipping negronis at Nina, but both are now inaccessible. Conversely, businesses on main streets have fared relatively better; for example, Slow Boat Brewery, a craft beer bar, has continued pouring pints throughout the lockdown, much to our delight!
What lies ahead? With conditions changing daily, making predictions seems futile. However, in Beijing, the warmth of spring brings hope that brighter days lie ahead post-coronavirus.
James Pham in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam
A freelance travel and copywriter, James Pham has been living in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, for eight years. Vietnam has been among the most proactive countries in combating COVID-19. Visas on arrival have been suspended for all foreign nationals, and individuals arriving from the U.S., Europe, and Southeast Asia are being sent to medical camps for 14 days of quarantine. Bars, cinemas, massage parlours, and clubs are closed in Ho Chi Minh City, with schools remaining shut since late January’s Lunar New Year holidays.
While conversations are dominated by the pandemic, the situation in Vietnam can be described as a careful “so far, so good,” attributed to the government’s swift and effective actions—such as promptly closing flights and borders with China and Korea. Citizens receive frequent updates from the Ministry of Health via text messages, and spreading false information incurs a stiff penalty. Although Vietnam’s preparedness has received little attention in international media, it serves as a point of pride for the Vietnamese people, even generating a catchy viral music video and TikTok dance challenge promoting hand-washing and social distancing.
Life in Ho Chi Minh City has adjusted with minor changes. Typically bustling street-side coffee shops now see only a few patrons, as wearing face masks while drinking coffee is not enjoyable. The roads that were deserted during Lunar New Year have remained comparatively clear since children have yet to return to school. While this has posed challenges for some families, many Vietnamese households are multi-generational, allowing grandparents to care for children at home.
Initial panic buying occurred for face masks, hand sanitizer, and instant noodles, but thankfully, toilet paper is fully stocked. Grocery items are plentiful, and food delivery services are prompt and inexpensive, often costing under $1. It’s commonplace for me to receive a steaming $2 bowl of beef noodle phở within 20 minutes!
While a few companies have permitted remote work and some workers have opted to stay in provinces rather than returning to the city, for the majority, it’s business as usual, although at a slower pace. The tourism and food sectors, particularly those reliant on foreign visitors, have been impacted the most, as have factories dependent on Chinese material supplies.
Given that a third of confirmed cases involve foreigners, an underlying suspicion exists, along with occasional incidents of xenophobia. On a recent small group tour in the Mekong Delta, some locals questioned why we weren’t afraid of the virus. Our tour guide remarked that without tourists, many locals would face starvation long before the pandemic posed a threat. A few establishments have put up signs refusing service to foreigners, but the government has recently called on local authorities to address any complaints regarding discriminatory treatment of foreigners.
Due to tightly controlled borders with China, an excess of produce has resulted in an abundance of unsold watermelons and dragon fruit being sold at very low prices along the roads. Conversely, there have been heartwarming stories; for instance, a local baker began incorporating fuchsia-colored dragon fruit into cakes to support local farmers, and even KFC plans to introduce dragon fruit burger buns this week!
Jenny Elliott in Colombo, Sri Lanka
Jenny Elliott is a British freelance travel writer who moved to Colombo in April 2019 with her young family. Recently, Sri Lanka has begun reporting its first cases of COVID-19 community transmission. In response, the government has closed national parks, cinemas, and theatres indefinitely. Schools are closed until April 20, and all airports have shut to incoming international commercial passenger flights until March 25. Passengers can board flights leaving the country, and all types of visas issued to foreigners were extended by a month on March 18.
The government’s decision to close schools last Thursday took many by surprise. Although families anticipated the closure, the timing was unexpected, especially with the numbers of COVID-19 patients still in single digits. It was reminiscent of last April when all schools closed following the Easter terrorist attacks, resulting in a similar atmosphere of shock and anxiety. However, this time, we recognize that returning to normalcy may take longer.
A week later, the number of infected patients is gradually increasing. My husband, two young children, and I have been socially distancing from friends and staying home in our apartment. Being far from family support has made us particularly cautious. Our experience has been a mix of crafting, squabbles, dance parties, and tears.
We are grateful for our balcony, which overlooks some of Colombo’s waterways, providing a much-needed escape among the uncertainty as we watch birds flit between the palm trees.
The government has declared this week a public holiday in hopes that people staying home will hinder the virus’s transmission. Streets have become progressively quieter, although the city is not under lockdown yet, with a steady stream of tuk-tuks, cars, and buses still passing.
As we observe the effectiveness of containment strategies, we remain eager to see what the next week will bring.
This article was first published on March 19, 2020, and updated on March 23, 2020.