For a small, developing nation with no home-grown vaccine options, Cambodia is doing remarkably well on the Covid-19 vaccination front. At the time of writing – a mere 3 months after the first doses of Sinovac arrived in the country – around 20% of the adult population has received at least one dose of the vaccine. I was privileged enough to receive my first dose of Sinovac a few days ago. Here is my guide for foreigners to being one of the 60,000 people a day to receive a Covid-19 vaccine, Cambodia style.

Note: This is my experience as a foreigner in one specific commune. Exact situations will vary!

1) Wait for Your District to be Eligible
Originally, vaccination was by priority group, with teachers and market workers in Phnom Penh being among the first groups to be called after front-line staff had had their turn. Since lockdown, however, the focus has been on red zones in the capital and other cities with large outbreaks; other areas are now being added in turn based on perceived risk. Although we were never in the red zone, most of our district was originally red and so our area was included in the red zone round of injections.

2) Get an Invitation
No invitation, no vaccine. Phnom Penh is divided into districts, which are subdivided into smaller communes and then into villages. It should be the village chief who gives out the invitations. Except sometimes the village chief does not want to do so for foreigners and will send you to the commune office. And sometimes the commune office will send you back to the village chief. Do not give up until you get an answer. In my case, I went back and forth between the two a few times before finally getting the commune to give me the coveted invitation letter. I didn’t need any paperwork for this step; other foreigners needed their passport, work permit, etc.

3) Be Flexible
Some communes vaccinated foreigners from day 1. Mine originally refused to consider foreigners at all, then decided that there would be a foreigner day on the final scheduled day, Friday 14th. Then someone realised that the 14th was a public holiday, and I received a phone call at 12:40pm on Thursday 13th telling me to get there for 1pm the same day or miss my chance. My husband had the date and location for his second dose changed multiple times Be flexible. Check the situation regularly. Breathe.

4) Go to the Centre
It seems fairly standard to have two shifts starting at 8am and 2pm. Some centres have a limited number of slots in each shift. There have been reports of people queuing outside from 5am, or of those who turned up at 8am being asked to return at 11am to begin queuing for the afternoon. I arrived just before 1pm to find a couple of hundred people in the queue ahead of me. Generally, the first few days are the busiest, and then the last day is a crazy rush of people who left it to the last minute for whatever reason. Whenever you go, be prepared to queue.

5) Be Prepared
You may well have to stand in the sun for a significant amount of time. Cover up and bring plenty of water – but make sure that you don’t need the bathroom! You will also need a blue pen (although an enterprising soul was selling them through the bars in the centre fence at my location), your passport, a photocopy of your passport and, crucially, your invitation. You should also have someone who reads Khmer with you or on video call to help you to fill in the form (which may differ from location to location – my husband’s form was different to mine).

6) Follow the Crowd
Unfortunately, this can mean quite literally – we were not really socially distanced at all for the first hour or so. However, once you get to the organised bit, things should run with military efficiency, especially if you are at a site that is actually being run by the military. Just follow the person in front of you, use the painted markers to socially distance when required, and apologise with a smile if you get it wrong.

7) Do the Process
The exact process may vary at different locations – my husband’s experience was different to mine. These were the steps I had to take:

• Queue
• Begin socially distancing when told.
• Temperature check. If you are too hot, they will either give you a chance to cool down and try again, or spray alcohol in your face to cool you instantly and wave you through.
• Show the invitation letter. Receive a number and a form.
• Fill in the form. Don’t be surprised if you have to repeat the information several times, or if you have to write your full name twice in the same section – Cambodians write in Khmer and then English scripts, but most foreigners just write in English twice. Also, even though both Sinovac and Sinopharm are listed on the form, you don’t get a choice!
• Wait until your number is called. At my centre, they were being called in batches of five. If you are struggling to understand, ask for help from someone nearby, or stick with the person who was in front of you in the queue.
• Queue again.
• Hand over the form to be checked and wait for your name to be called. At this point, they should complete the type of vaccine and the date of your second dose.
• Take the form and queue to give your thumb print where required. Hand over the form, but keep the part that is returned to you.
• Queue again.
• Get vaccinated. Woo! They will give it in your right arm. Selfies are optional.
• Queue again.
• Have your name written on a list and a time written on your form. Check that they have spelled your name correctly.
• Queue again.
• Have your photograph taken, along with a photograph of your form and a photograph of the photocopy of your passport (they refused to photograph my actual passport).
• Wait until you are allowed to go – approximately 15 minutes, although at my centre they were opening the gate for people in batches.
• Make sure that you keep the form safe until the second dose. You may receive a card at this point, too, but it is more likely that you will get it with your second dose.
• Go home. Do not get the injection site wet for 12 hours or scratch at it. For the next few days, do not carry anything heavy, drink alcohol, eat seafood or work too hard.
• Congratulations, you have received your first dose!

8) Stay Positive
It will be long, and hot, and at points confusing. You may have suffered the frustration of fruitlessly asking to be registered multiple times before getting to this point. You may have had security guards shouting “No, no, no!” in your face, or people complaining very loudly that foreigners shouldn’t be given the injection as Khmer should have priority. But, actually, most people will want to help, the actual process on the day is well-organised, and the majority of Cambodians understand that – if this is to work – everyone who can be vaccinated needs to be. Also, all of the military and medical personnel that I met were lovely and guided me through the machine with smiles and positive words despite the fact that I was number 342 for the day and there were at least another 100 people behind me. Keep smiling, speak some Khmer (even if you can only say hello and thank you!) and dig deep into your patience reserves.

9) Pay Close Attention to Second Vaccination Dates and Locations
These are always subject to change.

10) Be Thankful
Whilst developed countries are battling anti-vaxxers, anti-maskers and vaccine shortages, and many developing countries are struggling to even vaccinate key workers, Cambodia is doing an amazing job of obtaining vaccinations, targeting priority locations and groups, responding to an ever-changing situation and ensuring public compliance with safety rules. The WHO has now approved the Sinopharm vaccine and is expected to decide on Sinovac soon, and public opinion towards vaccination is generally positive. There is plenty that is not perfect in Cambodia’s Covid response, but the same is true of every country, and I, for one, am still thankful to be here.

As we come to the end of the first two weeks of the first major lockdown in Phnom Penh, I thought that I should try to share the challenges and eccentricities of lockdown, Cambodia style.

Wait, aren’t you supposed to be in China?

Well, yes. But after leaving Beijing last February (thanks for that wonderful piece of advice, UK Foreign Office), we came to Cambodia. Several cancelled flights, closed borders and invalid visas later, and we gave in to the inevitable and stayed here.

So, how did it end up like this?

Until February 2021, Cambodia was doing remarkably well. The country had weathered the Westerdam Cruise Ship debacle, the quarantining of hundreds of officials following a diplomatic visit gone wrong, a local outbreak in November and an influx of infected returning migrant workers. However, four quarantine escapees in February – either prostitutes working for an underground Chinese mafia or simply four ladies who would rather enjoy the Chinese social scene than stay locked up, depending on your newspaper of choice – sparked a community outbreak that has, to date, infected more than 10,000 and killed nearly 100. After the virus got into the factories and crowded indoor markets – where social distancing is practically impossible – the government decided to lock down Phnom Penh and some other areas, initially for two weeks from 15th April and now extended for at least one more week. A curfew is also in place, along with a ban on alcohol sales.

Day Zero: Panic at the Market

On April 14th, rumours of a lockdown started circulating in the form of a leaked voice message – that sounded suspiciously like the Prime Minister, Hun Sen – authorising the locking down of Phnom Penh and the surrounding area. Another post quickly followed dismissing this as a fake, followed by more posts speculating whether the fake news announcement was actually fake news itself. Fearing the worst, people rushed out to stockpile, causing local markets to be overrun by a tsunami of people. Lockdown was officially announced a few hours before its implementation at midnight.

Day One: So What Does That Mean?

The start of lockdown was rocky, to say the least. Barriers were quickly erected at the boundaries of each district, but the policemen charged with guarding them had wildly differing opinions on what restricting movement meant. Rules changed rapidly – at first exercise outside was allowed, for example, but then it was forbidden – and no one was quite sure how to obtain a much-coveted travel permit in order to be able to get to their essential work places or deliver food. The vaccination program even had to be suspended for three days, rumour has it because medical staff were unable to get to work. Once the basics had been sorted out, however, many of us were able to settle in to the new normal, although those who were facing the prospect of no salary for at least two weeks were probably not quite as peaceful.

Day Two: Look at Me, I’m so Dope!

Lockdown brought out the stupid in some people, who initially treated the whole thing as a game. From the two star general who threw a noisy lockdown party, to the man who dressed up as an officer and filmed himself driving around daring people to arrest him, to the two men who live streamed themselves drink driving because they technically weren’t breaking the alcohol ban, to the German man in another city who took photos of himself breaking curfew and posted them in a public facebook group. Retaliation was swift and painful, including public humiliation, fines and jail time.

Day 4: Into the Red Zone

After reassessing the situation, the government realised that the majority of cases in Phnom Penh were located within a few small areas. These were consequently designated as red zones, in which no one could leave their home except for emergency situations and no food could be sold except by the government. Understandably, this was not a popular decision with those in the zones, which contained many of the city’s poorest inhabitants. Stockpiling is difficult when you only earn enough for each day, when you don’t have a fridge, when you cannot afford tinned food (which is mostly imported) and when the climate means that fresh food only keeps for a few days even with refrigeration. Although the government and some charities have given handouts, and government sales of essentials (rice, soy sauce, noodles and tinned fish) have been available, there have been a lot of very worried, very hungry people in these zones.

Day Seven: Cops With Big Sticks

Around day seven, someone decided that it would be a good idea to issue policemen with long sticks for beating people. The idea was that they would be like parents disciplining naughty children. After several videos of policemen driving around whacking random shoppers circulated on social media, a more senior official stepped in and put an end to the violence.

Day Ten: The Markets are Closed

After cases linked to numerous markets around the city, the government decided to close them all. Even a new covid-safe wholesale market, which had been established a few days earlier, was quickly closed again following a positive case. This led to the obvious question of how on earth people were to buy food, especially as the policemen with big sticks – who hadn’t had them taken away yet – enjoyed waving them at anyone who tried to sell on the roadside, from their front door or from a mobile cart. Phnom Penh was quickly turning into an Economics lesson in action.

Day 13: Friend Zoned

As the first lockdown period reached an end, its extension seemed inevitable, so no one was surprised when another week was announced. However, the introduction of new zones was for many an unexpected move. Having listened to feedback regarding the very short notice of lockdown, the government gave two days’ notice of the changes. Unfortunately, this led to even greater confusion as people (and several newspapers, and one government department) shared false zone information and attempted to apply the new rules immediately. Eventually, it became clear that additional areas had been added to the red zone – including the next district to ours which is just a few streets away. Other areas were classified as “ripe yellow” and kept under pretty much the same rules as the last two weeks – this is our situation, it seems. But the rest of the city will now be yellow, with much greater freedom of movement, gathering, employment and activity… As long as they don’t leave the city, break curfew, or engage in activities that cause cases in their area to go up.

Day 14: So What Now?

For us, little will change. I waiver between fear of being red zoned and jealous of those in the yellow zone who can move around freely, not that we have actually had anywhere to go since the outbreak started back in February. Conditions in the red zones will improve for some – there are photos circulating of spaced out street markets and at least one supermarket has permission to deliver to those wealthy enough to afford it. Numbers are still increasing here, with the biggest number of new cases in a day announced a few hours ago based on yesterday’s test results, however that is mostly the result of the introduction of rapid testing and greater numbers of tests compared to two weeks ago. Loss of income and rising food prices will cause many to struggle for a long while yet. Vaccinations will be offered to all adults asap, and may or may not be mandatory depending on who you believe. For now, all we can do is hold our breath and see what next week brings.

It has been over a month since we left China, fearing the coronavirus less than the stress of being effectively in lockdown in our Beijing village.

How the world has changed in just over a month.

Covid-19 (as it is now officially known) has spread around the world. That was kind of inevitable. What was less inevitable, and has proved more worrying, is the panic that has accompanied it. Obviously, both governments and individuals want to slow the spread of the virus – and the decreasing rate of new infections in China combined with a huge leap in recovery rates have shown that this can be achieved. But a worldwide shortage of toilet paper and the near collapse of the aviation industry seem like an extreme consequence of what is, after all, just one more virus.

The thing is, the world has faced global epidemics of deadly plagues before. In my lifetime alone, I have survived worldwide or UK-wide scares for salmonella, mad cow disease, foot and mouth, meningitis, mumps, SARS, MERS, bird flu, swine flu, ebola, zika and measles. Society – or, specifically, Western society – didn’t collapse, even during the 2009 swine flu outbreak which infected over 60 million and killed an estimated 12,000 in the US alone. So, why is Covid-19 so different?

Firstly, it is new. New is scary. New causes panic. New doesn’t have herd immunity. New doesn’t have vaccines or medicine or any predictable patterns. Even Swine Flu was close enough to regular influenza that it could be treated with Tamiflu, but Covid-19 – like the other coronaviruses that it is related to, including the common cold – can only be defeated by the immune system. This makes it both potentially more dangerous, and more easily perceived as a threat.

Secondly, it is believed to have originated somewhere exotic, yet has spread throughout Western civilisation. It is difficult for the average Westerner to imagine somewhere more strange and foreign that a meat market selling bats and pangolins in the unheard-of Chinese city of Wuhan, and yet the virus is now a reality amongst sleepy English villages and bustling American cities. Ebola – whilst much more deadly and catastrophic for communities affected – had the good grace to stay in Africa, and so the Western world didn’t have to worry. Coronavirus is affecting the very places where English-speaking news is produced, and so the English-speaking world – which in reality means most of the world – is acutely aware of every stage and risk. The Western mentality has traditionally been one of “us” and “them,” and we don’t like it when our comfortable existence is challenged by the problems that only the “them” normally have to face. The worrying anti-Chinese racism that has spread through many countries since January reflects the fear that many people have of a strange “foreign” disease becoming their reality.

In addition, the outbreak first affected China – the world’s largest non-English speaking superpower with 1.4 billion residents and citizens who travel around the globe – meaning that nearly a fifth of the world’s population found themselves at risk overnight. China’s influence over the rest of Asia – from direct political and economic influence in some places to its large tourist industry in others – meant that most of Asia was feeling the effects before the disease had left China.

Another issue is the speed at which the virus is spreading, from a handful of cases in China to more than 150,000 worldwide in less than two months. Accompanying this is a relatively high death rate – currently at the 2-3% mark on a global level, although the exact rate varies with location and age. To make things worse, the initial death rate has been scarily high in some places. It took several anxious weeks for the number of recoveries in China to pass the number of deaths, although once it did, the rate of recovery showed a far greater increase than the rate of death (67000 recoveries vs 3200 deaths, at the time of writing). This is partly due to the healthcare system in Wuhan being initially overwhelmed, but is mostly because – particularly in early days – it has been taking a shorter amount of time for someone to die from complications caused by the virus than for another patient to be proved to be recovered. Italy is currently facing a similar situation, with an elderly population and large numbers of cases overwhelming the healthcare system and recoveries only just starting to overtake deaths – 1900 recoveries to 1400 deaths at the current count.

In the face of worrying statistics and worst case scenario predictions, governments have been forced to take action. China led the way with its lockdown of an entire province, emphasis on self-isolation and strict quarantine measures throughout the country. Before this year, the thought of isolating a province of 58.5 million people would have been unimaginable, and the step left the rest of the world in shock. Now, world governments seems to have divided into two main approaches. The approach led by China has been to shut down as much of the country as possible to limit the spread and try to eradicate the disease. Declining numbers of the virus in China shows that this approach is successful, but it is at the risk of reinfection as soon as the quarantine is lifted or the thousands of people who were displaced from China a month ago return (cases imported from overseas have now overtaken internal infections in most areas). The other option – being followed by the UK amongst others – is to use more tempered social distancing measures to try and delay the peak of infections whilst encouraging the country to develop a natural herd immunity and minimising the social and economic consequences. Essentially, they are hoping that Covid-19 will eventually either die out altogether, or become just another cold/flu. This sounds like a more rational approach – particularly to the Western mind which is culturally less inclined to follow authoritarian government measures, as demonstrated by the horrified reaction of many expats in China to the government’s measures compared to the more positive reaction of the majority of Chinese people. However, a 20% hospitalisation rate and 2% fatality rate for the 60-70% of the population who need to catch the disease to obtain herd immunity could still be catastrophic (9.5 million people and 950,000 people respectively in the UK alone). So this method would only work if the scientists are correct who believe that there are many people who are either asymptomatic or have mild enough symptoms that they do not realise they have the illness, bringing the hospitalisation and fatality rates among the 70% infected down to a more manageable number. If we look at current UK statistics, there are 1140 confirmed cases and 21 deaths – a 1.8% death rate. However, if UK ministers are correct that 5,000-10,000 people are infected but have not been displaying serious enough symptoms to be hospitalised or tested, the fatality rate drops down to as low as 0.2%. But we don’t yet know which scenario will prove to be the reality.

And that’s another problem. It all depends on how you run the statistics, and different people – from government ministers to tabloid newspapers – are choosing to calculate and interpret in a way that fits their own agenda. We live in an age where we have access to information and opinions on a level that would have been heard of even during the 2009 Swine Flu pandemic, when Facebook and Twitter were in their infancy and Instagram did not even exist. It has become almost impossible to know where to go to for accurate information and reliable, evidence-based advice, and it has become equally impossible to escape from the constant drip feed of panic and links that dominate our Facebook feeds, our news websites and our private messages. Added to this is the development of a huge number of conspiracy theories about both the origin of the virus and the response of governments around the world. One person claims to have video evidence of the virus being released from a lab in Wuhan, another suggests that it was a Chinese mind control exercise or anti-Hong Kong protest technique gone wrong. By contrast, there are those who blame the US for creating the virus, with some suggesting that it was introduced into Wuhan by American soldiers during the October 2019 military games, and others suggesting that it has been circulating in the US since 2016 but was covered up as the flu until China revealed the “new” disease. The theories go on and on, becoming more ridiculous as they go – the latest to cross my path being that the US government is deliberately creating panic in order to empty flights so that the planes can be used to create extra chem trails for weather seeding.

It is small wonder, then, that people in many countries are beginning to distrust even official sources of information – e.g. the WHO or the US-based CDC – and are inclined to assume the worst of whatever decision their government makes. Our overwhelming exposure to constant information and misinformation has caused in the majority of people one of three responses: extreme anxiety and panic, complete cynicism or an even more dangerous combination of the two.

This blog post has ended up way longer than I intended. I work through my own anxieties better in writing, although nothing that I have written actually offers any answers. I don’t think there are any answers at the moment, which is another reason for elevated anxiety levels all around. We just don’t know how scared we should be. And when each individual and family find ourselves in our own unique and complex situation within this global crisis, it can be very difficult to know if we are making the right choices or how to avoid falling into an “us vs them” me-first mentality.

What is certain is that all our lives will be impacted, whether by the virus itself or by the measures imposed by the government of the country we find ourselves in. That is now inevitable. What is still up to us is whether we will do our part to keep ourselves and others healthy – wash your hands and stay at home if you are ill! – and whether we can overcome the pull of anxiety and cynicism to remain positive throughout these times.

Stay safe, everyone!

Day 10 of Coronageddon has seen anxieties running high in our little corner of Beijing. On Saturday, we had to submit our passports to the village authorities so that we could get residency cards. These are supposed to make reentry to the village easier if we have to leave, however a night without passports left everyone a little nervous. Yesterday, we found out that our local water delivery man has run out of water. He reckons he will get more when the factory reopens on Monday, and in the meantime our school have been helping to supply staff with water, but it is one more cause for worry. Last night, the British Foreign Office sent an open letter to British nationals announcing that they are pulling all but essential staff from China, advising those who wish to leave to do so before it is too late, and basically saying that if it all goes wrong, British citizens are screwed. Needless to say, many expats have now left the country, and every departure makes us question our decision to stay a little bit more.

And so, we have finally decided to try and leave. This is not from fear of the novel coronavirus – although infection rates are rising rapidly, I still have faith in the Chinese medical system and, yesterday, the number of recoveries overtook the number of fatalities for the first time. I am also still not convinced that Chinese society is on the verge of collapse. The government is very good at keeping control, shelves are stocked and my Chinese friends are not worried about starvation any time soon. However, it is becoming increasingly silly to resign ourselves to weeks of worry and boredom when we have the opportunity to be with family somewhere warm and enjoyable.

This does, of course, mean braving a flight, which will make the day of travel infinitely more dangerous from an infection perspective than the previous two weeks in Beijing combined. It also means negotiating working online with an unstable internet connection and a different time zone, convincing Natty to homeschool when there are more exciting things going on, worrying out how we will return to China when school does reopen, and taking precautions to make sure we are not infecting anyone unknowingly (note – apart from when we fly, we will not have had any possible contact with the virus!).

Statistics from China on Sunday morning. Left to right: number of confirmed cases, number of suspected cases, number of people who have recovered, number of fatalities. Most of the cases and fatalities are still in the province of origin, where Wuhan is located.

Part of me feels like we are running away, which goes completely against my stubborn nature. There are still expats who have chosen to stay, and, of course, my Chinese friends have no option but to remain. I am trying to see this as a working holiday, especially as there are rumours of the real holidays being curtailed once school reopens to make up for lost time. When very decision feels like the wrong one, it is impossible to know what the right choice would be.

So now I am off to deal with the hundreds of practicalities that fleeing a country at short notice entails. In the meantime, it is snowing here, so at least our last few days in Beijing will be pretty, and when we return the weather will be warm once more.

It is Day 7 of the holiday, and a week since I spent the last day at school squashing rumours of impending doom (“Two students did not die this morning. The boy sitting next to you does NOT have SARS.”). In one week, infection rates from the new coronavirus have climbed into the thousands, the virus has spread around the globe and an entire province has been placed on lockdown. So, what is it like living through the Zombie Apocalypse?

Mostly, it is boring. We have spent most of the past week hiding at home, obsessively reading the news and trying to keep Natty under control. Increasing numbers of places are closed, and there is little incentive to travel. Moreover, we have several weeks of this to go: the government have ordered all schools in Beijing to move to online classes only for the foreseeable future.

There is also a degree of fear. No one is sure how long this will last, or just how bad it will get. Communities are limiting access – our village is now accessible only by one gate, where temperature checks are mandatory and non-residents have to sign in with their ID. There is real fear that we will either be locked down and left without food, or that infection rates will spiral out of control when the thousands who left the city for the holiday return over the coming weekend. Many expats are considering leaving, or have left already, and the fact that a number of airlines are cancelling flights is not helping matters. Between the sensationalist headlines and the circular discussions that abound in WeChat groups, it can be difficult to know what to believe and what to do for the best.

No entry to our village by this route, unless you want to run through an open sewer in true zombie movie style.

Ultimately, however, things in Beijing are currently not that bad. The situation may change at short notice, of course, but so far no one has turned and there is no rioting in the streets. Contrary to what has been reported online, we can go in and out of our village with relative ease, and the policy of temperature checks and registration (which has been applied to all gated communities, whether the size of an apartment block or an entire village) actually makes a lot of sense from the perspective of controlling infection spread and finding close contacts if the virus were detected in this area.

Disinfectant mats, forehead thermometers and masks for sale at the entrance to our village.

Although our nearest large supermarket was closed yesterday, a short taxi ride this morning took us to an international chain with full shelves and plenty of fresh produce. They even had free samples, because who doesn’t want to try a new sausage flavour in the middle of Armageddon? Whilst the roads were quiet, they were no more quiet than during the Chinese New Year holidays last year, and the bus services were running as normal. Our school management are being very supportive to staff – from opening up play areas for staff kids to putting on a taxi service to nearby stores – and we have a great community for play dates and sharing shopping loads.

The shelves are full, but the staff need training on how to wear a mask properly.

At least we won’t run out of probiotic yoghurts.

And the durian supply is stable.

The Zombies will be well-fed, too. Visiting a Chinese market is enough to turn one vegetarian even without plague-carrying wildlife on offer.

And so, for the moment at least, we are staying put. Although figures are climbing rapidly, they are still well below both the infection and the mortality rate of a typical flu season. The next week or two will be critical for seeing if things will stabalise or spiral out of control. In the meantime, it is worth remembering (as these two worthwhile articles remind us) that there is no purpose to panicking, and we have not (yet) reached the End of the World.

It has been more than a year since my last post. Quite a lot happened in 2019, and things were rather busier than anticipated. I was planning to use this Chinese New Year vacation to write a round up of all of our exciting adventures. However, that will just have to wait as something far more important, and sinister, has taken over everyone’s lives: the Novel Coronavirus.

It is kind of scary being in China at the moment. We are not really sure how worried we should be. But given that my time as an expat has seen me survive flooding, earthquakes, bus crashes, terrorist attacks, rioting, political unrest and being marched through an airport at gunpoint, I think that I am overdue a good old-fashioned plague. And since I deal best with both anxiety and boredom by writing, I have decided to write an update about the situation so far.

What is the novel (new) coronavirus?

Coronaviruses are a family of viruses.  They are mostly found in animals, but this is the seventh known to infect humans.  The mildest are similar to the common cold, but two more deadly examples are Sudden Acute Respiratory Syndrome (SARS) – which also originated in China in 2002 -and Middle Eastern Respiratory Syndrome (MERS), a disease from 2012 which has a 35% mortality rate and still occasionally infects people from camels.  The Wuhan Coronavirus (informally named after the city where it originated) begins as a cold, usually with a fever, but can develop into pneumonia or other serious respiratory symptoms.  The most severe cases end in death.  Scientists are still unsure exactly how the virus originated, but it has been traced back to a wild animal market in Wuhan.  It is currently thought that the virus originated in bats and then passed to humans via another animal, possibly snakes.

How deadly is it?

The problem is, nobody knows.  Numbers change several times a day; at the time of writing, there are 2784 confirmed cases and 5794 suspected cases, with 52 recoveries and 81 deaths.  This would mean an infection rate higher than SARS, which infected just over 8000 people in over 6 months.  SARS had around a 10% mortality rate with 774 deaths; at the moment, the new virus has a far lower number of deaths for a similar number of infections.  However, it is still early days – most infections have been identified for less than a week, and so not enough time has passed for people to either recover or die.  In addition, it is unclear how many cases there are out there where people have had only mild symptoms that have been mistaken for a common cold or flu, or how many of the suspected cases will turn out to be something else. At the moment, it is thought that only 25% of cases are severe, but even that number is little more than an educated guess.

Why are people scared?

Firstly, people are scared because the virus is new, and anything new is scary, particularly when mortality rates are unknown.  This has led to all sorts of rumours, which cycle around social media in Chinese and English.  My favourite was that planes would fly over Beijing and spray disinfectant from the skies, which I thought utterly ridiculous until I was covered in disinfectant sprayed by a slow-moving truck on my road this morning.

Secondly, the Chinese government’s response has been very strong – Building two hospitals in under a month and putting over 50 million people into quarantine by sealing off an entire province is at the extreme end of disease control. However, if you understand Chinese culture and the way that the government works, it is not so strange. People still remember the SARS epidemic, and expect the government to do better this time. The government is a government that likes to keep control. And Chinese culture in general demands fast and complete measures to combat problems – you only have to read the parents’ social media groups for my school or the comprehensive health and safety policies that we have to see that even small incidents cause a big reaction.

Finally, the international response has been one of fear.  Although the WHO has not yet declared an international emergency, there are an increasing number of cases in an increasing number of countries.  Although most of these cases are individuals who have travelled from infected areas of China and who have been isolated as soon as possible, there is always the fear that the disease could spread.  Suddenly, a far off mysterious Chinese disease becomes a possible threat to the US, Australia, Europe, etc. and so people in these places start to be afraid. This fear then perpetuates itself online, alongside the Chinese rumours, and some very Western conspiracy theories.

Hasn’t the coronavirus been around for several years?

“I read in the Daily Star that it is manmade because someone developed a new coronavirus to make into a vaccine.”  “I thought that they had a vaccine already.  How convenient.”  “My sister’s husband’s cousin’s best friend’s rat did a school visit at a daycare where three children had the disease and they were fine.”  I have seen many people make these kinds of statement on Facebook.  They are wrong.  As I wrote earlier, there are six other coronaviruses that infect people, and the most mild is similar to a common cold.  There have been attempts to find a vaccine for MERS, and medical experts are using this to inform their search for a new vaccine – but even if everything goes to plan, it may not be ready for at least a year.  Believe me, if there were a vaccine, the Chinese government would be mass-producing it and enforcing inoculation.  Also, it is quite normal to adapt a live virus as a vaccine, a practice that has been around since Edward Jenner first noticed that cowpox victims did not catch smallpox. Although there are believable rumours from Wuhan that the disease was circulating earlier in December than the first confirmed case, there is no international conspiracy to distract us from something even more terrible. Scientists in both China and the US have mapped the genetic sequence of the new virus, and it is definitely new.

What is life like in China right now?

I can only comment on life in Beijing.  Life in Wuhan and other quarantined areas is said to be very tough. Things here are quiet. Very quiet. People have been advised to stay at home as much as possible, intercity travel is being discouraged, and the wearing of masks is being enforced in many public places. Museums and other popular sites are closed, Chinese New Year festivities were muted or cancelled, and temperature checks are being carried out on the subway. That being said, today we went out for lunch and then bought groceries at our local supermarket without any trouble at all. There is a fear that things will be closed down, sparking panic buying and food shortages, but so far that has not happened and people are at most collecting a small food store at home just in case. The biggest impact on our lives is that all schools must remain closed until 17th February to give people a two week period after their Chinese New Year travels to either develop symptoms or prove that they are not ill. This means teaching online after the Chinese New Year holiday ends on 4th February, which will be challenging, and, even more challenging, attempting to homeschool Natty.

At the moment, we have no plans to leave China. However, if we did find ourselves in an emergency situation, it is comforting to know that the British Embassy and Foreign Office will have things under control. Whilst the French and US governments spent the weekend planning how to remove their consulate staff and stranded citizens out of Wuhan, the British Foreign Office updated their website to advise people to avoid the area and the British Embassy staff took the weekend off. Whatever happens, at least I know that my travel advice will be up-to-date.

Where can I find out more?

The World Health Organisation and the American CDC have informative webpages. The BBC is doing a fairly good job of keeping updated with major developments. For regularly updated news from within in China, you can follow a summary in English here, or watch the Chinese headlines here.

With 4 countries, 6 major cities, 9 lamguages and countless miles by plane, train, subway, bus, car, motorbike, tuktuk, bajaj, golf cart and boats of different varieties, 2018 was a year when we were able to tick some items on each of our bucket lists. See if you can guess whose bucket list each item is from!

1. Climbing a real, still-steaming volcano.

2. Visiting the Great Wall of China.

3. Seeing “Where the Great Wall meets the sea.”

4. Sailing in Halong Bay.

5. Visiting the War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Mimh City (Saigon).

6. Viewing the famous red leaves carpeting the mountains around Beijing.

7. Learning to ride a bike.

8. Graduating from university.

9. Learning Mandarin.

Well, I can say, “Hello, I can’t eat this!” anyway.

10. Visiting a Cat Café.

We also managed a number of other adventures that were not on our bucket lists but should have been.

We climbed a 32m high statue of Jesus…

… and visited the Temple of Confuscius.

We saw enough wild eagles to found a city…

… and examined enough tanks, helicopters and missiles to satisfy even my little military enthusiast.

We played at the beach in 35℃…

… and -5℃!

We travelled by speedboat…

… and by camel.

We went off-roading with a Cambodian rock star…

… and saw some of the most spectacular views in the world.

What adventures will 2019 hold? Watch this space!

This weekend, we joined thousands of locals as they flocked to a nearby mountain to view the spectacular Autumnal red leaves.

This part of China is full of stunning mountains.

Red leaves and mountains were in abundance.

The view from the top was amazing, but it was sadly too hazy to clearly capture the terrifying 3000m vertical drop at our feet.

And, this being China, there was also a grass rat, a corn house and a rather phallic statue, just because.

You can turn a corner in the most non-descript concrete jungle and suddenly find this.

Or this.

Or even this.

I can hardly believe that we have been in Beijing for more than 8 weeks. The fact that I first intended to give this post the title “Beijing, 2 Weeks In” is a testimony to how crazily those weeks have been.

So, after 8 weeks, what do we think of Beijing?

The Good

We have a pretty lovely apartment in a quiet village, which means a very nice mixture of colleagues, other expats and locals for neighbours. Everyone is very friendly, too, even the random man in the street who shouted at me repeatedly whilst filming on his phone. And Natty has around 20 other kids to play with literally outside our front door.

The food is really, really, really good. Even with my gluten-free, no-soy-sauce limitations, I am eating very well.

The weather so far – once the first sweat-filled 38 degree week calmed down – has been lovely, although we are aware of the -11 degree winters ahead.

There is a subway stop within 10 minutes walk of our house, and we can get to pretty much anywhere in the city in under an hour and for less than $1 each (and Natty is free).

We are a 5 minute walk from the school, the school play area and the school swimming pool.

We have found a nice international church 1 stop away on the subway, which is also a good opportunity to get out of our area and meet other expats who are not teachers at my school.

Beijing is very green. Huge stretches of countryside sit between the different areas, and almost every village seems to have at least one park or lake. We have found some very beautiful places, and we haven’t yet left the city.

There is so much history, enough to keep even my inner ancient historian and Natty’s insatiable curiosity happy.

The Bad

The pollution. We have not had a day so bad thay the students are kept in yet, and at certain times of the year the whole city will shut down as the government orders everyone to stay indoors. But even on a normal bad day, you can taste the pollution in the air and our house gets covered in fluffy grey dust unless we seal every window. Then again the levels in Jakarta were equally as high if you go by US Embassy data, we just never monitored them so closely.

Water outages at random moments. Very annoying.

The Ugly

Spitting.

Dog poop everywhere.

Communal rubbish bins that spill into the road.

Public toilets straight out of a horror movie.

Men of all sizes with their bellies hanging out as soon as the temperature reaches 30.

But overall, we are loving Beijing, scary clowns and all.