People asked what was the biggest difference between Covid-19 and SARS. The biggest difference to me was when SARS occurred I was a child. I didn’t have a phone and my mom didn’t have WeChat.
Without social media we wouldn’t have responded so fast. We probably wouldn’t have felt as alert and together, and at the same time as bored and isolated.
The virus was everywhere yet invisible; it was in the air, on our things, between our fingers. The virus was visible on our screens, appearing as numbers, warnings and jokes.
How much of it was the virus? How much of it was our addiction to our phones, to information, to digital sharing and physical isolation, except that all of them were suddenly legitimized?
–
“In November many kids will be born; couples who wanted to divorce are changing their mind,” people joked.
We became closer, we had to. There was no other choice, and the only remaining choice became what we chose.
I had to bear with my cousin who played computer games from 2pm to 2am, my uncle who played loud music on his phone in the middle of the living room…
My mom and I argued about who was right. When the news came out that the virus could spread through particles in the air, she denied it before reading about it at all, which exasperated me. What right did she have to say no to whatever I shared? She just wanted to appear more clear-headed, braver, superior. How disgusting.
She said, before dying from a virus, I would die of my own fear. I knew there was some truth to that, but the fact that she said it made it wrong, so wrong.
–
I was all about doing, but here came a chance when I didn’t need to do anything. Not doing became the virtue, the right thing. We had the holiday and the virus, the best ever excuse.
But I should be doing something. My movability was limited, but my productivity shouldn’t be.
No one was trapping me but I failed to escape. I stared at the virus and the virus stared at me. Like a mirror it reflected back what I didn’t want to see.
–
There was something military about all this.
Almost 200 residents were added to the neighborhood group chat. Each one registered and monitored, our nicknames in the group changed to our real names and the places we had been in the past few weeks.
The neighborhood staff member warned people not to go out without a mask. If she spotted anyone she’d take a photo and post it. “Received” — underneath dozens of people replied. We’ve been replying to our boss’s messages the same way in our work group chat, since once she demanded our response to whatever she said.
The next day the neighborhood staff member told everyone to report their temperatures in the group twice a day. From then on, lots of “36.4” and “36.5” appeared. She replied to them with three thumbs up.
–
My uncle sent to our family group chat a video of a woman being caught by several men, suppoedly some officials. She struggled with her hands held behind her back and was then pushed to the ground. What happened? They said she was disturbing the workers while they were building blocks in the neighborhood. The municipality had been blocking ways in the city to limit transportation.
“Good she was caught,” they commented. “Those who go against the government during such special times have no good outcome.”
A new sense of morality came into being — what’s right and wrong, who’s right and wrong. When we all put masks on, the authority took its mask off. But it was all good, it was all for the good. We felt protected. We needed that protection.
A video of some foreigner expressing admiration for China’s quick response was spread on WeChat. What was also spread around was a list of donations from foreign countries:
“The US donated 0 mask — let’s all stop eating KFC and McDonalds.”
Tags: Psychology Virus