East Tennessean news reporter Kirsty McCaughtry details her experience since leaving Johnson City, Tennessee, and returning home to Ireland amidst the Coronavirus scare.
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During a week when students should have been finalizing spring break plans, they instead found themselves packing their bags and rushing home. COVID-19 had finally struck the western world.
(Photo / ETSU Athletics)
Beginning March 23, ETSU moved classes online until April 9, and both American and international students were encouraged to leave campus until then. Yet, this is a period of uncertainty, where nobody knows for sure whether classes will return to campus at all this semester or not.
In the week leading up to spring break, aware that the situation was quickly escalating, I cancelled my trip to Florida and prepared to remain at Buccaneer Ridge instead. That was until I was advised to take the soonest flight home to Ireland.
Within two days, after premature goodbyes and hurried packing, I began my journey. The only topic of conversation all around me: the coronavirus. In the airports, some wore masks, though many had to do without, as supply couldn’t meet demand. I waited with friends, all of us eager to return home safely before borders closed and flights were cancelled.
Throughout my three flights, I reminisced about stolen time; a semester cut too short. I thought of friends who missed their graduation ceremony, returning home, unsure when we would meet again. I’d watched as friends clung to each other, neither wanting to let go. During a time when we were supposed to be distancing ourselves, nobody wanted to be separated.
Across from me on my Atlantic flight to Ireland, a man in a mask and gloves cleaned his tray table. I whipped out a pack of wipes and did the same. We were all on high alert. The consequences of being confined to such a tight space amidst a global pandemic crossed my mind. I thought of stories from other travelers, some tested the moment they landed, others encouraged to self-isolate for weeks. What would be my fate?
The journey was surprisingly smooth, and I arrived into Dublin Airport early March 16. I was met only by immigration and baggage claim; no testing or procedures of any kind. I greeted my family, and we attempted to keep our distance as best we could.
A couple hours later I set foot into my house, my refuge for the next couple weeks. When I eventually left to stock up on groceries and other necessities, friends warned not to cross the street to start conversations, and anyone we encountered on the same side kept their distance. It went completely against the friendly, welcoming culture we were used to. I could only imagine what it was like for my friends in Italy, one of the more affectionate cultures I know of.
The shop shelves were stripped of toilet paper, hand sanitizer and tins, as the apocalyptic panic buying continued. Stores had gone as far as limiting purchases of the same item to only two or three per customer and implementing specific time slots for elders only.
Throughout the week the UK stepped up its response to the outbreak. Schools closed and exams were cancelled, as social distancing became a priority. In the Czech Republic, my roommate couldn’t leave her house without a mask, and in Italy they sung to one another from the balconies of their apartments. Yet, to some extent, there was still a sense of optimism and hope.
With the world in crisis, we’ve taken on a new way of life. Our fast-paced routine has come to a halt, and we’re faced with a stillness we have never experienced before. The quarantine has coaxed out skills and qualities buried beneath the surface for many people. It has brought us together in selfless support of one another. It has shown us what we take for granted, forcing us into a simpler, more modest lifestyle.
So, amidst the chaos and depression of the situation, there is still hope of a better world, a better us, in the aftermath. One where we open our doors to cleaner air, lessons learnt and talents unearthed through the stillness, perhaps the next great novel or film, but most important of all a heightened appreciation for life and our loved ones.
All that is certain is nothing will ever be the same again.
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