My job requires me to go to no man’s land. To Patagonia. Field research is the order of the day. Ten days. Cut off from the rest of the world. A small research team, consisting of five Chileans, one Brazilian and three Germans, embarked on the expedition. Corona, or Covid19, is a term that is still far away from one’s own reality.
March 18, 2020 Chile. I have been back in civilization for a few hours and get an overview of the current situation. Now I am happy that we have found a hostel that welcomes us. Incredible. Ten days in nowhere and now everything is different.
The original plan was to do another three weeks of research in the ice after the expedition. Funnily enough, that would be the best now. No human soul there. Accordingly, no risk of infection.
But Chile wants to get rid of me. Maybe over to Brazil? Spend a few vacation days there? Brazil’s barriers are already closed. The facts have to be sorted, agreements made and decisions made. And all if this as soon as possible.
I know the virus as well as possible at the moment. All right. I remain calm about that. But it is terrifying how the mood has changed suddenly. I am aware of the crisis we are in.
The return program to Germany seems to me to be opium of the people. In any case, there is no return of the Germans from Punta Arenas. We three German researchers are now on our own. We are watching one airline after another cancel their flights. We see our return flight tickets vanish into thin air. Unfortunately not through the air that carries us home. My booked return flight would be in three weeks. I dislike to imagine what the situation is here when European-looking people are already considered a plague. We decide to go to the airport to get the next flight to Santiago. And from Santiago there are international flights to Europe. The only way to Germany.
March 19th, 2020, almost March 20th. Airport. Punta Arenas. The airport is empty. I see about 30 people in brightly colored outfits. Functional jackets. Waiting, pausing with her backpack. Somewhere in the airport hall.
The situation is quickly surveyed. A few flights still go to Santiago. I meet foreign travelers who have been waiting in vain for a flight to Santiago for two days. There is a state of various realities. According to the airport staff, I should just start my return flight in three weeks. If I had the tranquility for it, I would ask myself what information I have ahead of the staff to know that the countries are closing their borders and after some time the air traffic has stopped. However, I follow my impulse to start my return flight today. With amiable perseverance and friendly communication, we three German researchers are now on the waiting list. Wonderful. So we didn’t even know that there was such a list. And we think “double is better” and are also in the queue. So we stay at the source. If our names are called, we jump on the plane. And, if only one name, or even two names from our group come up, the named person takes the seat on the plane. That is our deal. From the beginning. With which we all agree.
The reflex to go to the airport as quickly as possible was correct. The smartphone tells me more about world events from minute to minute. And I notice by the minute that our chances of leaving the country are diminishing.
March, 20th. The wait is nerve-wracking and the situation is extremely tense. A picture emerges: Latin American citizens are brought on the plane using the move-in procedure. The Europeans stay there. One would think that preference is given. However, the three of us do not pursue this idea any further. We look around and realize: We are all the same. We all have something in common. Everyone who is now at the airport has only one wish: to come home. And more and more people are coming. The airport gets crowded during the day.
We tell the newcomers who, like us, want to get hold of a flight spontaneously, about the waiting list and that it is best to also be in the queue.
We are now at the airport for seven hours. Two machines left the place without us. And yet: we are in a positive mood. We also tell other travelers how best to go about getting a seat. We happily clap for those whose name comes up to get on the plane. Even for the people who arrived at the airport after us. We get a goodbye hug from these people. As a thank you. Thanks for sharing this tip with them. A hug that we happily accept despite the risk of virus transmission. We sit all in the same boat. Unfortunately not in the same plane. But our joy remains sincere and full of heart. We are aware that we all have to stick together.
This idea is anchored in our three group as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Cohesion. A joyful compassion for others. A positive attitude. A community even forms at the airport. More and more are joining us. The group that claps is growing when a name on the waiting list is called up. Our positive thoughts are probably contagious.
Hours pass. And more hours pass us. Our joy of the heart, for those who leave this place, remains. As if an inner voice guides us and tells us that good thoughts and humanity are worthwhile. This is how we sense a reward for our sincere cooperation. Indeed. Help is coming. And surprisingly, from Chileans. Our Chilean colleagues who treated us like outcast. We were the virus in person for them. Now even the professor personally makes his way to the airport to help us. According to a WhatsApp message. At last. He can certainly do something with his multifaceted diplomatic relations.
We decide that the two of us stay in the ‘holding line’. The third in the group sets off to watch the professor. We are excited. Hope rises to get out of here. May that’s the talismanic help we need for in this moment.
The luck is shown in the form of a bag. The professor stays for his safety in his car after unloading the bag. So the bag receives the German researcher. As a bonus, there is a short conversation through the closed window. A conversation that makes it clear that the bag is the promised help. And the professor disappears again.
So there it is. The help. The three of us can only laugh about it. As if we’re in a comedy. We laugh at our situation. We laugh at the help that has been announced so widely. We laugh at the contents of the bag:
3 bars of soap
1 disinfectant spray
3 masks
3 masks made of solid fabric
10 pairs of gloves
1 bottle of red wine
3 reusable coffee mugs with lukewarm coffee
2 packs of milk
1 Swiss chocolate
The red wine is gone first.
To be continued.
