Quarantine Days

Two adjoined rooms, perched 20 stories above the bustling streets of Bangkok, have been our home for the past 15 days. Two kettles, two microwaves, two refrigerators, four sinks, four beds, and two bathtubs have been available for use. Full wall sliding glass doors allow our Thai temple wallpapered inside to merge with the outside hustle and smells. Two balconies - one for the laundry line, the other for me to sprawl for maximum sun exposure.

Designated spaces were soon set - one room resembled more a master bath, while the other became the kitchen/living area. The kitchen sink in room 2003 became the laundry spot, while the bathtub in 2005 was the evening soak station. The bed closest to the balcony in 2003 was my afternoon siesta spot, whereas Zach rotated between the beds in 2005 for his siestas. We had eight pillows to choose from for our evening slumber, though nightly we cursed and swore that an invisible pillow gnome switched our preferred choices throughout the day. It was a nightly ritual of sussing out the perfect softness.

 

Daily rituals were established, loosely followed. Exercise, breakfast, shower, read and write on the balcony, lunch, afternoon siesta, yoga, dinner, shows or movies, bath, sleep - repeat. Tossed in were many video chats, a couple of covid tests, and one saunter about the pool deck. 

Our one day of yard time for good behavior (as Zach called it) was less than expected. Instead of a place to stretch legs and enjoy, it was red-squared designated spots all around a pool that one could not enter. It was a horrid taunt. Our time was shared with two families, four young children running amok. We could not fault the bedlam, wee ones need massive wiggle room, but for our safety, we stayed clear and cloistered in a corner. One mother did approach and apologize; our brief interaction established their flee from Myanmar, their home. The displacement of people continues to be staggering. 

We never returned to the outdoor space; our cloister of rooms was more adequate for stretching legs.

I celebrated my birthday with all the things I love - a surprise friend visit (though 20 stories separated us!), ample tropical fruit, an Asian (complete with some weird ingredients) cake, and many well wishes from around the world. The birthday month continues and I am really looking forward to a Thai massage...or two. 

After Bon's visit and goody bag delivery, we were able to partake of our favorite Thai tradition - Thai tea o'clock. Every afternoon about 5pm, we set all electronics aside, set our place on the balcony, clinked our plastic glasses, and watched the world go by us while sipping our favorite nectar.  

While forums of quarantine are filled with horror stories, we walk away completely satisfied and actually delighted at our 15 days of solitude. I feel that is due to Thailand approaching quarantine as hospitality and welcome, rather than herding cattle and money grabbing (ahem, China.) Our choice of hotel was more than we expected, the food good and ample, and our time went quickly filled with all the things we had wanted to accomplish in the last year. I walk away having read eleven books, Zach read ten books/audiobooks/comics. I finished a couple of writing projects. I have tan lines again.

 

We are minutes away from walking out the door, bound for an island in the southern seas. A school is very interested in us and we are interested to see if this will be our path into forging life in this beautiful country. 

February Flashback

Before I lose myself to the celebrations of my birthday month and the shenanigans of trying to suss out a life in a new country, the month of February must be given due diligence; for it was a spectacular month of celebratory extravaganza.

Snow, Ice, Repeat

Though it was not the white Christmas as hoped, a white wonderland for Spring Festival was rather magical. In true Portland style, the city panicked then shut down for the onslaught of winter magic. It provided hours of play for Kaden and Addysen, with Zach and I joining the fun for spells. Living on top of a hill is definitely a perk in this situation. 

Unfortunately, the fun was tainted when we joined the ranks of the powerless. Cold house, abundant candle light, and bucket baths were our routine for a couple of days. It was comical to hear Kaden walk through the house, on instinct flip the light switch, and follow up the useless maneuver with a loud 'gah!'. 

Yet, the delight and wonder that is always inspired by snow was fantastic - especially for the two wee ones who spent an hour outside my window showcasing the many ways to crush ice in a Bruce Lee manner. 

Spring Festival Celebrations

We welcomed the year of the ox with great fanfare. The rat had been rascally, cunning, and devious; our hopes for the ox are considerable. Thus, to usher in the new lunar year we followed the traditions - abundant lanterns, hongbao, flowers, a sweet waffle meal on the eve to display hope for a sweet year to come, and hot pot on the day to garner the hope of community and support. The kids created a new-ish lion and provided the evening's spectacular entertainment.   

A few days prior to the actual festival, I was able to watch our dear Stinker perform with his Chinese school - songs and poems for the season. I am so grateful that the pandemic has allowed us to experience moments that were always relegated to storytelling and pictures.

Job Farewells

With our decision to shift to another part of the globe, it meant we had to say farewell to our respective employers. While getting jobs in America had not been on our radar a year ago, I can say that we landed jobs that suited us. They were very physical, hilarious in so many ways, and filled with an assortment of humans and interactions that were fascinating and entertaining. Zach became master of click list picking at Fred Meyer, while I tussled with hardware in every form at Home Depot.

As I wrote for my Instagram post: I never thought I would work in the warehouse of orange, but I did and I thoroughly enjoyed it. That enjoyment was thanks to this ragamuffin crew which convened at the ungodly hour of 4am. We laughed. We cussed. We threw our hands up in the absolute mayhem of corporate shenanigans. We learned a lot together. Our team strengths were snark, sass, and brute muscle strength. I was reminded of that today when they gave me the card, a Chinese token, and the hypothetical gift of a water bottle that said: I am leaving this job to find better coworkers. Retail life is bizarre, but these were my peeps. For my job, I loved my team - we were the ragamuffins who started at the ungodly hour of 4am.  

And we turned overhead storage mayhem into works of organizational art. 

Lisa's Out-of-This-World Party

Of course we never dreamed showing up for one birthday would involve celebrating the next one, but we embraced it and celebrated with great fanfare. 

I am thrilled to state that the theme was created entirely by the kids - the adults merely aided in acquiring the necessary props. Granted, a shout-out should be given to NASA for landing a rover on Mars on the day planning did take place. One plop into the wilds of the red planet and the possibilities for a birthday party theme exploded. 

It was an evening filled with much laughter, lots of photos, unexpected visitors from near and far, and many cheers for the birthday girl. I still love that Lisa is in my orbit - and we all love a good party. 

Portland (Non)Light Festival

Before departing the motherland, we were able to enjoy a festival of sorts and a glimmer of what post-pandemic life can be. Under the cloak of darkness, we forged downtown to investigate, discover, and enjoy light installments. From buildings being illuminated to unique creations in shop windows, we immersed ourselves into the scavenger hunt provided by a committee of artsy souls who provided light among a dark time. 

Leaping Into the Unknown

My sentiments mirror Frodo's as he returned to the Shire in Return of the King. As he trots into the boundaries of his homeland; eyes wide with wonder, yet with a heart and mind filled with what had been. In the movie, his voice is heard saying, "Thirteen months to the day, we found ourselves looking upon a familiar sight."

My line: "Three hundred and seventy nine days later, we found ourselves looking upon a familiar sight and our souls sighed." 

When we boarded that flight over a year ago, it was with delight, glee, and joy to be surprising a friend. The between now and then was the epitome of iconic yin and yang symbol - good and bad, each tainted with the other. 

We knew we needed movement, and we needed to take a risk. 

When we boarded our flight in Portland, we felt the power of our community shoving us forward with well wishes and tangible acts of love and hope. 

Thus we stepped into the unknown - and a once in a lifetime journey. 

Signs of the times began with the Delta rep at the PDX check-in counter, hands on her hips, sweeping her face side to side, and exclaiming, "This is so weird!" Her partner in crime, with our documents in hand, replied with a muted, "welcome to covid days." The first attendant chatted with us - it was her first day working in one year. 

A very barren SeaTac airport greeted our arrival. We made our way to the gate to obtain boarding passes for the next legs of our journey. The Korean Air gate workers were jovial, though one was a ball of nerves in sifting through our mound of paperwork. She kept calling a co-worker on her phone for support and affirmation. The calmer gate worker was thrilled it was my first journey on Korean Air and my first time in South Korea. She bragged about the airport to come. 

That is right - I added a new airline and a new country to my tally. 

Stepping onto the Korean Air plane was stepping into our first experience of first class, without paying a first class ticket price. Our 200+ passenger plane had approximately 50 people on board, including flight crew. Zach and I plopped into our respective rows like Boba Fett claiming Jabba's throne in the teaser trailer at the end of Mandalorian season two. We even raised our respective water bottles in a cheers to our good fortune. We settled in for our 11+ hour flight to Seoul. 

A few things passed during that time. 

We had the safety instructions sung to us K-pop style. 

I read a book and a half.

Zach and I laid down and slept quite soundly. 

I saw Russia (again.)

I saw China. 

Which I must acknowledge was far more emotional than expected. Opening the window shade and being 35,000ft above the adopted motherland was a catalyst for an overwhelming torrent of homesickness. I had tears. I also realized that in all my years of flying internationally, I had never passed her by. I will say that my empathy for those ripped from their homes and lives - whether by fire or war - has deepened to an unfathomable depth this past year. It is never a moment I want anyone to have to experience. 

Our arrival in South Korea was heralded with an unexpected show. I thought all the unique experiences that are spread throughout the terminal would be closed. To be truthful, I think this was more of a dress rehearsal, but what a way to be welcomed to a terminal with waving flags, gallant pageantry, dancing, and astounding vocals.

During our mere three hours on the ground, we entertained ourselves by wandering the empty terminal, gawking at the empty departure boards, and following the cute little robots. While an empty terminal is disturbing in of itself, gazing at an empty departure board is gut wrenching. A massive international air hub reduced to a mere 26 flights within the following 24 hours; ten of which were headed to North America.

Minutes past sunset, we boarded for our final leg. Again, the rows of seats between us and another human were plenty, so we ate our meal and stretched out for sweet slumber. 

Over the past months, I have been part of Facebook and Wechat groups specifically for virus refugees. Discussions in these groups ranged from how to ship belongings to visa hacks in hopes of returning to China to how to get into another country. Those few select individuals who actually made it back into the mainland China told of some horrors with immigration and quarantine. This was the complete opposite to the stories emerging from those landing in Thailand, with individuals giving precise instructions and how-to steps and photos along the way. Even armed with as much information and a folder full of documentation, we were humans filled with angst. I told Zach at one point that we had to remain calm externally or we would get pulled over on suspicion of carrying contraband goods due to our nervous tics. 

We disembarked, held hands, and looked at each other to say our mantra: We are in this together. 

I am thrilled (and astonished) to report that the Thai authorities were spectacular in their efficiency. We were led to chairs spaced apart in the terminal, where a legion of workers went person to person to sort and organize documents. We were then lined up for temperature checks, followed by a stop at the Health Department desk for a stamp confirming our quarantine plans. Next, we walked to immigration where we stopped at a table to confirm visa status and post-quarantine accomodation. With another proper stamp, we stepped up to the actual immigration booth for fingerprints, picture, and THE stamp of welcome into Thailand. 

We stood in baggage claim - stunned. It had worked! We were in Thailand!

We gathered our bags and made for the exit. However, before exiting, two Thai immigration officials gave us free water with a "welcome to Thailand" smile; which absolutely thrilled us, especially since the South Korean airport was a void of moisture. (Travel pet peeve: having to dump water bottles but nothing on the other side to replace it. Grrrr.) 

After exiting, we were met by a representative of our quarantine hotel, who checked our documents and took pictures of them, then escorted us to a waiting vehicle. As we entered the vehicle, our bags were sprayed with disinfectant. The representative took our picture, shut the door, and we were off into the night. 

Upon arriving at the hotel, our bags were once again wiped down. We were temperatured and given blue booties for our shoes, whisked into the elevator, and delivered to our home for the following 14 days. We had a welcome meal of orange juice, cheese sandwiches, and a fruit medley. 

At this point, Zach and I danced gleefully around the room, while laughing and shouting our exclamations of delight. For the first time in over a year, we made a plan and it had worked.

After sending messages of arrival to our dear ones and setting up our 'home', we fell into bed and quick sleep with the rhythms of an Asian city singing to our soul.