Transitioning to life in Taiwan has been a bigger challenge than ever expected. We knew it would be hard, just didn't know to what degree. We expected to follow protocols that have become the norm in the context of a global pandemic, yet were not fully prepared to be delayed for so long nor to encounter roadblocks that our privileged life is normally shielded from.
Perhaps the biggest challenges we experienced stem from the significant differences between how Taiwan and the US are confronting the pandemic. When Jenny's mother came from California to Maine last May she flew on a full plane of people who were asked to wear masks, but were certainly not 6 feet apart. She was not required to test before flying and only encouraged by Maine's CDC to quarantine for 14 days after arriving in Maine. In contrast, the plane we took from New York to Taipei had one person per row of 10 seats. We were expected to wear masks for the entire trip, and stay in our assigned seats for the sake of future contact tracing. Should someone become a positive case, the airline records could identify any other passengers that may have been close enough to be infected as well.
Our biggest hurdle as it turned out was not a willingness to follow the behavioral expectations, but a simple omission of a birthdate on the Covid19 test results.
In order to board the plane at New York's JFK airport we were required to show a negative test result from a test within 72 hours of our flight. Jenny scheduled our nasal swab test at our local hospital / clinic and received the results a few hours before we left Maine for New York city by car. Jenny and I were able to get our results from Maine Med's new "My Chart" online records system. I printed off our results, then called Soleil's doctor to pick up a hard copy of her results not posted on My Chart due to privacy laws. Driving to her doctor's clinic added about 30 minutes to our travel time, but we had built in a good cushion for such delays.
A rental car turned out to be the best choice for traveling to New York, a 6-7 hour drive. We were able to stop at Jenny's cousin's place in Orange, CT for dinner and some lovely catching up. Another cousin on Jenny's Chinese side called to invite us to stop in Flushing, NY as well, but we were too short of time to stop that late in the day. We wanted to be at the airport early in case of any other unforeseen obstacles.
We arrived at JFK airport around 10:30pm and dropped off the rental, hefted our luggage onto the Airtrain to the international terminal. Our flight was scheduled to depart at 1:30am so we were still within the 3 hour window. The airport was eerily empty even considering the late time. Only a few counters were open for departures as we pushed our lives down the hall to the very last desk - Eva Airlines, a Taiwanese company with direct flights to Taipei. Though not all the local security were wearing masks, the Eva staff were fully protected, some even in head-to-toe hospital garb with masks and facial shields or goggles. Of course there were more documents to fill out that we had not been aware of, so we sat on a bench to complete them. The agent asked immediately for our Covid19 test results and we handed them over. Jenny's and mine, identical print-offs from our web records on My Chart and Soleil's in an envelope from her doctor.
A few minutes later the agent returned with a question. Does Jenny have a copy of her results with her birthdate on them? We looked at the printout and there was nothing other than her name, her doctor's name and the results "Negative", with a long explanation of how this might not be a true result as time had elapsed since the test and she might have been exposed since then. Blah, blah... Then, they handed back Soleil's saying this was more what they were looking for. It was a full page record of medical data with little or no commoner explanation. How could these have been so different?
They handed my results back last. Mine, like Jenny's had no birthdate and no real medical data. However, we were not treated equally. They explained that due to my "employment" visa, I was not required to take the Covid test prior to travel. I would be allowed to board with Soleil, but unless Taiwan CDC approved an exception for Jenny in the next few minutes she would not be allowed to join us. My heart sank. It was late at night, the airport was empty, we were hanging on the hope that CDC would look past this detail. Time ticked and we finished our paperwork. Then time ran out.
The agent asked if Soleil and I would like to board without Jenny we should do it immediately. Jenny agreed that we should go, but we did not have a plan for her. I handed Jenny the laptop computer since I knew that I would need the cell phone when we got to Taiwan. Then we remembered, Cousin Ming in Flushing! It was past midnight, can he pick her up? Can Jenny catch a cab? How much will that cost at this late hour. Soleil found Ming's phone number on our contacts and Jenny scribbled the number into a little notebook. I held out hope all the way to the boarding ramp that she would appear on the plane just before the doors closed. Then the lights went dark and the plane began to roll away. Soleil sat directly behind me in row 57. I reached back to hold her hand as we both sobbed from exhaustion and separation.
As the plane ascended I turned my mind toward gratefulness. She's got a cousin who will surely welcome her. She's got technology for communication even if she doesn't have a phone. She's got money. She's got plenty of travel experience, even on her own. She's survive and probably return to the airport in a couple days ready to pass the test of travel.
Then I thought of family separation for others. For refugees who travel without all the privileges of our family. Without wealth, without technology, without experience, without education, without white skin. Parents who make decisions to send their children alone ahead of them. People who know for certain they don't have the documentation required to pass the innumerable hurdles of human migration. I thought of them and for a moment I felt their struggle.
We are climate refugees. We are fleeing a climate of fear and mistrust in our country hoping for an opportunity to thrive in a place with "freedom" to belong to a whole society. It is not an easy journey to leave a home we love and a community full of connections, but we also seek something that we can send home, remittances of hope and love. Thank you all for holding us in your thoughts as we transition. We are also here for you.
--- Greg
