When I went it was right when SARS hit. As in, between takeoff and landing SARS became a thing. So suddenly the whole world was scared, disgusted, worried that they would be next. And what would happen when we came back?
Everyone wore a mask. Violently ill, wear a mask. Have a cough, wear a mask. Worried about either or both or anything in between, wear a mask. I got the impression some people wore masks just so they'd fit in. Everyone on their way to surgery.
We couldn't even see our parents when we returned. They whisked us into a debriefing room, took us down to face the reporters. And they poked and they prodded, "How bad is it?" "Were you scared you might catch it?" "Is anyone ill?" "How are you feeling?"
How are you feeling. We told them we felt fine. We told them the truth. How regular it was, how a crowd of white masks coming toward you was nothing to be alarmed about. But I realized, young as I was, that they weren't asking to make people feel better. They were asking to make them feel worse.
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