Reality Show: Not Really...

My friend Cecil, who lives in Omaha, 30 miles from the place where officials in personal protective equipment, are doing dry runs on the interstate, and where the  returning Americans from Wuhan  are quickly being  sent in quarantine, is nervous. And, she has reasons to be. "We feel like props from a Hollywood movie, or  extras from "Walking Dead"," she tells me. Her description of the biocontainment unit for infectious diseases  in Ashland, Nebraska, does sound like a plot from one of those umpteen end-of-the-world/doomsday/apocalyptic movies  we so love.  But, when the familiarity of such movies lends itself to our day-to-day reality, it must feel almost surreal on one hand, and outright frightening, on the other. And yet, real it is.

Yu Yan, the 34-year-old Chinese lady, from the great port city of Guangzhou,  is staying in our family guest house next door for a while now, and keeps us updated by whatever little news she gets through her mom, and sister back home. Initially, she was very optimistic, confident that the 1000-bed hospital in Wuhan, built in a record time of under two weeks (yet another emblem of Chinese efficiency), would suffice to put a break on the spread of the virus. But, with every passing day, the number of cases rising exponentially across China, her hope for such a scenario is fast dwindling, "Quite a few people have been hit by the Corona virus in my city too. Most work places have been shut down. My folks hardly leave the apartment, except for an occasional visit to the supermarket!" She told us. Yes, believe it or not, the supermarkets are still open, and people still shop. Yet, realistically speaking, what are their options? Guangzhou, famous for its multi-cultural cuisine, and dining-out culture,  recently decided to close its innumerable restaurants as a preventive measure, but, somehow did not include supermarkets... 

A few weeks ago, Yu Yan contacted a pharmacist in Delhi, whom she had befriended during her visit to the capital city, and inquired about the possibility of shipping a few hundred masks to her native place. Since he seemed quite enthusiastic to collaborate on such a philanthropic venture, she immediately transferred the requisite amount to his account, certain that he would do the needful. But when the masks didn't  reach their destination, she contacted the friend again, who, in turn, confessed that because of the emergency situation on a global level, the prices of the masks had shot up, and some more dough could expedite the process. Yu Yan obliged. Yet, unfortunately, the shipment of masks never left the shop, and the supposed friend does not answer her call/messages anymore. 

 But, such deceptive behaviour on the pharmacist's part, or the refusal of the Indonesian governmentven to issue her a visa to go to Bali, even though she had bought the tickets much in advance, have not dampened Yu Yan's spirit. She continues to greet every new day with her sweet smile, pray for the quick recovery of her country,  her people, and  the world at large, learn French, try her hand at Indian cooking (yes, she can now make some great chapatis and curried potato vegetable) and "do plenty of yoga". Bravo!