As I write this, I have spent seven days in home quarantine, watching the world outside unfold with my head pressed up against the window.
Twelve days ago, my husband and I travelled to Mumbai during a family emergency. Our plan was simple: solve the crisis with every precaution necessary and take the first flight out.
Neither one of us fathomed how the world would change in a span of 72 hours.
We showed up at Dubai International Airport, which was still buzzing with passengers in that first week of March, armed with disinfectant wipes, face masks in place, hand sanitizers bulging out of every pocket and gloves for extra measure.
No chance would be taken.
As we made our way inside the airport, our routine had been mastered — wipe, disinfect, hand wash, repeat.
We received strange looks from passengers at the airport who watched us with suspicion, but at that point, the world was quickly transforming into a strange place and, frankly, we didn’t care.
Even our phones weren’t spared.
We received strange looks from passengers at the airport who watched us with suspicion, but at that point, the world was quickly transforming into a strange place and, frankly, we didn’t care.
Trying to navigate hours behind a face mask is no walk in the park, especially when you struggle with asthma.
But our doctor had advised us to keep our N95s in place through the journey and years of breathing exercises helped me during that brief flight to Mumbai.
Mumbai Airport Checks
The day we boarded the flight, images had started to trickle in on WhatsApp showing crowds lined up at Mumbai’s Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj International Airport, where people were being forced to wait for more than six hours as new health checks were implemented in wake of the coronavirus outbreak.
Terrified of what awaited us, we filled out the travel declaration form handed to us mid-flight and waited for the inevitable.
Things soon turned anti-climactic as the orderly temperature check queues (three people deep) and the immigration lines combined had us exiting the airport under 45 minutes.
With sighs of relief, we boarded a taxi to reach my husband’s home in the city, spending another hour scrubbing ourselves raw under the shower, while disinfecting our clothes and our bags.
In a few hours, we were back outside, with fresh masks in place and attempting to deal with the emergency at hand but slowly feeling like the odd ones out in Mumbai, which continued to go about its business like nothing was amiss.
The neighbourhood khao gully (food street) was still buzzing with people, while restaurants and cafes were packed with morning patrons.
Were we the ones being paranoid? Was this all too much?
Had no one read the news that a deadly global outbreak (soon to be pandemic) was spreading like wildfire across countries?
Return to Dubai
Over the next 48 hours, we largely stuck to home, more out of fear than anything else, while attempting to deal with issues at hand.
My husband and I took to social distancing even at home, staying in different rooms to ensure neither was in close contact with the other.
By day three, we were ready to return and decided to take an early flight home to give ourselves time to visit a clinic with the hope to get tested.
My husband and I took to social distancing even at home, staying in different rooms to ensure neither was in close contact with the other.
As our car service picked us up for the ride to the airport, we noticed the building and its surroundings were being disinfected with heavy duty machines. At least the society was being proactive even if the city wasn’t, we thought to ourselves.
Several hours later and back at home in Dubai, we received the first indication something was amiss. Someone in the society in Mumbai had tested positive for COVID-19.
We had snippets of news over WhatsApp, which is hardly the most reliable of sources in times of crisis, but we weren’t willing to wait around for further verification.
Trying to get tested
Choosing not to waste any more time, we headed straight down to the closest Dubai Health Authority (DHA) clinic to get tested when no appointment was given to us over the hotline.
An hour later, our token was called out and we narrated our travel history and the fact that we believed someone had tested positive in the neighbouring building in Mumbai. The nurse seated near the counter immediately informed us that we didn’t qualify for testing with no symptoms, but we insisted.
Even when our insurance declined to cover the fees, we still stressed to see a medical professional and paid the collective Dh224 for two and waited for another hour before we were called in by the nursing staff for a blood pressure check and a recap of our travel history.
All around us there were similar stories, faces hidden behind masks as they requested to be tested following a recent travel history or a request by their company HR.
Even when our insurance declined to cover the fees, we still stressed to see a medical professional and paid the collective Dh224 for two and waited for another hour before we were called in by the nursing staff for a blood pressure check and a recap of our travel history.
Another 30 minutes would pass before the doctor finally ushered us in. The DHA physician patiently heard us out before informing us that with no fever or any other symptoms, we didn’t qualify for a COVID-19 test.
Neither of us were pleased but we simply couldn’t accept that we were being asked to leave without a quarantine enforcement, which had yet to be implemented by the UAE authorities at the time.
Upon learning that we could have possibly come into contact with someone who tested positive for the virus, even if not directly, the doctor finally granted us the health certificate for a 14-day quarantine and sent us home.
Little did we know that my company HR had also implemented a policy by then, which required a two-week quarantine had we travelled recently.
Friends asked us why we insisted, but our answer was the same. It was the responsible thing to do, so we chose self-declaration.
Friends asked us why we insisted, but our answer was the same. It was the responsible thing to do, so we chose self-declaration.
Two days later, we received news the person who lived in the neighbouring building had died from the virus. We also learned his family had tested positive for the disease and others who had been in contact with the family were being called in for testing.
Isolation
We are now a week into the quarantine, with neither one of us showing any symptoms but nor are we taking any chances.
Days are spent working from home, evenings spent cooking and hunkering down with shows to binge watch on Netflix. Our families have dropped off care packages on our doorstep and our friends have asked to come see us. But we refuse. We are, and must remain in, quarantine.
In the week that has passed, more and more travel restrictions have come into effect in the UAE and in India.
We are hours away from a ‘Janta Curfew’ in India as I write this, while flights into the UAE have been halted for most, while a mandatory two-week quarantine now applies to everyone who travels to the country now.
The days grow grimmer outside, with stories of death and destruction grabbing news headlines, while Twitter and Facebook remain a minefield of misinformation; yet, they also provide a window to the outside world.
Some of us have built a community of sorts over social media, where we share recipes, offers to help with a phone call or funny memes on quarantine life.
Who knows how the events will unfold in the coming weeks, but as we remain in self-isolation, we live in hope that soon the doors will open once again to the sound of children running free and laughter ringing down the corridors.
Until then we stay in isolation and urge others to be safe.
