Quarantine Day 3: Collision of Cultures

Our lists of requests seemed small to us: cigarettes for the smokers, alcohol for the drinkers, vegetables for the vegetarians, more meat for the carnivores, board games, DVDs, and anything to pass the time.

Their list of requests seemed too daunting for us: no smoking, no drinking, wear masks, no leaving, no room changes, don’t go outside.

The Korean authorities made rules. The American teachers broke them. The Koreans did what they do best. The Americans did what we do best. This swine-flu forced relationship wasn’t working out.

It’s not clear what straw broke the camel’s back. Was it the room-switching that made it hard to locate people for temperature checks? Was it the mattress-sledding down the staircase? Or was it the drunk guy who got locked out and crashed through the canvas rooftop of a shed?

Late on day three, the gauntlet was dropped. First, there was the room shuffle. Jessica Corey: move out of room 402 to room 412 with two other girls. Then, there was the spraying. Hazmat-suited decontaminators indiscriminately spray rooms with chemical sanitizer – even while people and their electronics are inside (my roommate’s brand new Mac Book is broken). Finally, another room shuffle and new rules. Jessica Corey: move out of 412 back to 402 with one other girl. Everyone: stay in your rooms at all times; sneaking out will add an extra seven days to the quarantine.

This was no longer about containment. This was about putting us in line. These medical authorities have the Korean government behind them. Our group has no one. Our school doesn’t appear to be a factor in any of these decisions any more. The Australian embassy wasn’t even aware its citizens are in quarantine. The American embassy told us to wait until after Memorial Day to log complaints. The Korean-speaking teachers fought a good fight, making a passionate, belligerent argument for rational thinking and compromise. But no one was listening. Not the doctor they argued with on the staircase for 30 minutes. Not the Minister of Health who arrived on site late in the day. Rigid, arbitrary rules for the sake of rules are now in place.

Perhaps, if these rules were set upon our arrival, we might not be ready to start an American-style revolution. I believe a Benjamin Franklin quote is even being tossed around here: "Those who would give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety." We’re even starting to sing the civil rights anthem, We Shall Overcome. Yes, it is only those who have never faced real oppression in this world who are the first to cry oppression. There are only seven days that they want us to behave, after all. Seven days. My bet: we can’t do it. I can hear the smokers who have climbed out on the rooftop already. It’s only been three hours.

(Side note: the internet is down in our rooms, so I don’t have much access. I have to sneak out to a common area for WiFi. They say a technician is “working on it,” but the Korean-American teachers say don’t believe them. It is not at all unusual for Korean authorities to tell flat-out lies to shut you up. This sucks.)