2:45PM. I said goodbye to Katie, who dropped me off at the Marsh Harbour International Airport on Abaco Island, Bahamas. My week on the island was coming to a close, and I was not looking forward to returning to the chaos that is COVID-19. Throughout the week, students on the spring break trip continually received emails from school administration. First it was an extra week of spring break. Then it was online classes for a few weeks. Then for the rest of the semester. Oh, and remember to move out of housing in the next two days. Even though we were safely on an island with no cases of the virus, stress and anxiety steadily increased day after day.
Things were no different in Cru. First, all the trips to Europe were cancelled. Then all the spring break trips were cancelled. Finally, summer missions were cancelled. I tried to stay informed but detached. But this was just the beginning for me.
3:15PM. I walked through security at the airport. There was a single metal detector and scanner, but only a few people in front of me, so no big deal. The man in front of me packed an entire bottle of shampoo in his carry on (which had to be thrown out), but it was better than the elderly couple who tried to bring two bottles of hard liqueur through TSA in Orlando. I have no idea if they were inexperienced, forgetful, or hungover.
There was a small bar, one mom & pop shop selling snacks and candy, and a portable souvenir shop. It was selling tiny shells for $15, and they weren't even that pretty! If I really wanted one, I would’ve kept the ones I found on the beach. I sat down in one of the two waiting areas in front of the Silver Airways counter, and posted an Instagram story. The picture was from earlier that afternoon.
Clear Water at Marsh Harbour
3:30PM. An elderly couple sitting behind me worriedly started discussing connecting flights in Orlando, which prompted me to look up my flight status online. It turned out that my flight was delayed from 3:50PM to 4:30PM.
3:39PM. I screenshotted the flight status page and sent it to my roommate Jennifer, who was supposed to pick me up.
J: Okay!
Just warning you, we’re having convos with Tony John about quarantine (Tony John is one of our intern supervisors)
He just texted us to keep us aware that you might be quarantined when you get home.
Adrenaline shot through my body. How can I be quarantined?? I spent a week in a place with no cases of COVID-19, and they’re going to isolate me?? This can’t be real. I entered the first phase of the five stages of grief: denial.
Me: ??? But there are no cases of the virus in the Bahamas
J: My thoughts exactly.
Me: I’m sad if I won’t get to live with you and Keren 😭
We went back and forth a bit about the other two interns who are returning home this weekend (from countries that have cases) and the situations with their roommates. My mind still couldn’t wrap around the fact that Cru would put people (specifically, me) in quarantine. I was not coming back from China, or Europe, or another highly infected area. I was getting really upset and entering the second stage: anger.
Me: Wow this is too much. Is it because I’ve been to the airport?
J: For real. I didn’t think they’d quarantine you
I don’t know. Life is chaotic.
My thought exactly. And exactly why I wasn’t particularly thrilled to go home at this moment.
K: Is this actually happening?
Me: Idk
K: I miss you
Is your flight delayed?
Me: Yeah my flight is delayed
At this point, I was messaging both my roommates, so I decided to move our conversation to our apartment group message.
Did you see/get Steve Seller’s email? There’s something about staying home for 14 days
Steve Sellers is the Vice President of Cru, and he sent an email to all of Cru earlier in the week about cancelling trips. I skimmed through the content days before but didn’t read it closely. I frantically opened his email and scroll all the way to the bottom, because the content about quarantine would probably be at the end of the email. I quickly scanned for the word “quarantine” and the number “14.” I found neither.
3:46PM. Keren started messaging me. Anne I want to see you!!
Me: Me too 😭😭😭
Steve Sellers is the Vice President of Cru, and he sent an email to all of Cru earlier in the week about cancelling trips. I skimmed through the content days before but didn’t read it closely. I frantically opened his email and scroll all the way to the bottom, because the content about quarantine would probably be at the end of the email. I quickly scanned for the word “quarantine” and the number “14.” I found neither.
3:46PM. Keren started messaging me. Anne I want to see you!!
Me: Me too 😭😭😭
At this point, I was on the verge of tears (which is why I put three emojis in my message). My thoughts of easing back into the US and the pandemic were completely thrown out the window. In my mind, I would get back to my apartment after grabbing dinner at Panera, and me and my roommates would sit/lay down on my carpet and catch each other up on our week. They would then tell me the inside scoop of what was happening with COVID-19 and Cru. In reality, I was shoved into the chaos even before I was physically back.
K: Is this actually happening?
Me: Idk
K: I miss you
Is your flight delayed?
Me: Yeah my flight is delayed
At this point, I was messaging both my roommates, so I decided to move our conversation to our apartment group message.
Me: So what exactly is happening?
3:49PM. Tony John messaged me and proceeded to call me via Whatsapp. For a split second, I considered ignoring his call but my gut reaction made me pick it up. During the 3 minute call, Tony John informed me of the possibility of being quarantined in his professional/matter-of-fact/stressed tone. It made me very annoyed and I asked why I had to be on quarantine if I didn’t go anywhere with the virus. He just said it may be necessary, and it was easier to “un-quarantine” me than to quarantine everyone I came into contact with. With that, he abruptly ended the call. Thoughts raced through my mind much too fast for words to catch up. I was feeling a lot of negative emotion unlike anything I’ve experienced for awhile. It all just seemed so unreasonable.
3:55PM. Jennifer responded in our group chat.
J: Unsure. Sounds like Keren and I might stay in a hotel tonight. They’re working out stuff with crisis management.
Me: Will you still be able to pick me up?
J: Hopefully! I’ll make sure that’s arranged if I can’t.
Me: Can Keren come with you too (if she’s free)
I was entering the third stage of grief: bargain. If I was not spending the night with my roommates, I at least wanted to see them for a little bit. At least we could talk on the car ride back. Maybe we could even grab dinner to extend the time we were together. Clearly, I didn’t know what it meant to be quarantined (I still don’t).
4:11PM. The flight attendants made an announcement for Silver Airways Flight 144 service to Orlando. It was time to board. I was holding onto the hope that I would get to see my roommates who would come pick me up, and then things would be better. Surely, the leadership would recognize that there were more cases in Orlando than where I was coming from? Quarantining those coming back from overseas implies keeping something out, but in reality the US already has over 1000 cases, so I’m not sure how effective quarantine would be. And if there are cases in Orlando, my quarantine would probably be more effective at keeping me safe from COVID-19 in the US. Just some thoughts that crossed my mind as I sat on the plane.
5:58PM. Our little plane touched down at the Orlando International Airport. That’s when I got this message from Tony John:
Hey team! Don’t plan on picking up Anne, Logan, or Holley from the airport. We’ll have them uber back to the apartments.
For those of you unaware, we’re going to be quarantining them upon their return. I apologize that you are receiving this via groupme/text message. If you have any questions or concerns, please reach out.
Customs and immigration were surprisingly empty. They didn’t even ask if I brought anything back. I re-downloaded Uber on my phone and called a driver.
6:51PM. The Uber driver picked me up. We had a little trouble getting the ride started, but it was fine. Miguel was a great driver, although we didn't say a word to each other. At this point I was in stage four of grief: depression – when imagination calms down and we start to really mourn the loss and sadness grows.
7:11PM. I walked up the two flights of stairs to our 3rd floor apartment. No one was home, and it looked like people left in a hurry, but definitely not as messy as those houses on Abaco Island.
3:49PM. Tony John messaged me and proceeded to call me via Whatsapp. For a split second, I considered ignoring his call but my gut reaction made me pick it up. During the 3 minute call, Tony John informed me of the possibility of being quarantined in his professional/matter-of-fact/stressed tone. It made me very annoyed and I asked why I had to be on quarantine if I didn’t go anywhere with the virus. He just said it may be necessary, and it was easier to “un-quarantine” me than to quarantine everyone I came into contact with. With that, he abruptly ended the call. Thoughts raced through my mind much too fast for words to catch up. I was feeling a lot of negative emotion unlike anything I’ve experienced for awhile. It all just seemed so unreasonable.
3:55PM. Jennifer responded in our group chat.
J: Unsure. Sounds like Keren and I might stay in a hotel tonight. They’re working out stuff with crisis management.
Me: Will you still be able to pick me up?
J: Hopefully! I’ll make sure that’s arranged if I can’t.
Me: Can Keren come with you too (if she’s free)
I was entering the third stage of grief: bargain. If I was not spending the night with my roommates, I at least wanted to see them for a little bit. At least we could talk on the car ride back. Maybe we could even grab dinner to extend the time we were together. Clearly, I didn’t know what it meant to be quarantined (I still don’t).
4:11PM. The flight attendants made an announcement for Silver Airways Flight 144 service to Orlando. It was time to board. I was holding onto the hope that I would get to see my roommates who would come pick me up, and then things would be better. Surely, the leadership would recognize that there were more cases in Orlando than where I was coming from? Quarantining those coming back from overseas implies keeping something out, but in reality the US already has over 1000 cases, so I’m not sure how effective quarantine would be. And if there are cases in Orlando, my quarantine would probably be more effective at keeping me safe from COVID-19 in the US. Just some thoughts that crossed my mind as I sat on the plane.
5:58PM. Our little plane touched down at the Orlando International Airport. That’s when I got this message from Tony John:
Hey team! Don’t plan on picking up Anne, Logan, or Holley from the airport. We’ll have them uber back to the apartments.
For those of you unaware, we’re going to be quarantining them upon their return. I apologize that you are receiving this via groupme/text message. If you have any questions or concerns, please reach out.
Customs and immigration were surprisingly empty. They didn’t even ask if I brought anything back. I re-downloaded Uber on my phone and called a driver.
6:51PM. The Uber driver picked me up. We had a little trouble getting the ride started, but it was fine. Miguel was a great driver, although we didn't say a word to each other. At this point I was in stage four of grief: depression – when imagination calms down and we start to really mourn the loss and sadness grows.
7:11PM. I walked up the two flights of stairs to our 3rd floor apartment. No one was home, and it looked like people left in a hurry, but definitely not as messy as those houses on Abaco Island.
8:00PM. I Facetimed my roommates, who were staying at the Holiday Inn down the street. It was so nice to see their faces (albeit virtually) and hear their side of the story. They had three hours to pack for two weeks (the amount of time I am quarantined). It was probably just as stressful for them, if not more.
9:00PM. I video called my parents. They urged me to submit to authority, something that I have a lot of trouble doing when my petty opinions don't agree with my leaders'. Things are a lot worse in the Bay Area, so I'm thankful.
The Next Morning. I watched Church at Home from the comfort of my bed. I paused it a few times where the pastor told us to do some reflection/discussion to make a few lists of things I wanted to do for the next two weeks. Chores that needed to be done, work projects that were introduced, and the daily rhythm I wanted to create for myself. I guess this is a sign of the fifth and last stage of grief: acceptance.
Perhaps this is for the better. No, it is for the better. I don’t really know how the rest of this will play out, but I pray that everyone is safe.
Update: I am officially isolated for the next two weeks. I'm not happy with the decision but it is what it is. I know I haven't posted anything about the Bahamas yet, but I just wanted you all to know (and I'm still processing all that I heard/saw/learned there). I will definitely post soon - there's not much else that I can do.
The Next Morning. I watched Church at Home from the comfort of my bed. I paused it a few times where the pastor told us to do some reflection/discussion to make a few lists of things I wanted to do for the next two weeks. Chores that needed to be done, work projects that were introduced, and the daily rhythm I wanted to create for myself. I guess this is a sign of the fifth and last stage of grief: acceptance.
Perhaps this is for the better. No, it is for the better. I don’t really know how the rest of this will play out, but I pray that everyone is safe.
Update: I am officially isolated for the next two weeks. I'm not happy with the decision but it is what it is. I know I haven't posted anything about the Bahamas yet, but I just wanted you all to know (and I'm still processing all that I heard/saw/learned there). I will definitely post soon - there's not much else that I can do.
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