Alone Together

A few weeks ago, my mother informed me that I should write a new blog post because “there are people who are wondering what you’re up to.” I don’t necessarily believe that to be true; unless you’re a fancypants travel influencer who happened to be spending their quarantine somewhere in Bali while wearing maxi dresses and sipping cocktails on the beach (spoiler alert: I am not), a travel blog is not so exciting when you’re not allowed to travel. But anyways…

When last I wrote, in early March, I had just been given the opportunity to start teaching my classes online while my school in Shanghai was closed due to COVID-19. (It’s strange, isn’t it – March feels like it was a lifetime ago, and yet also as though it was yesterday. This is the year that never existed and also will not end.) For the next few months, I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning navigating the vibe of my new school, learning how to use all of these new educational programs, and teaching my grade 6 and grade 7 drama classes. Though it was a far stretch from how I thought my first few months of teaching would be, and I had to make some major rewrites on lesson plans (funnily enough, a subject focused on in-person collaboration, physical group work, and human interaction does not necessarily translate easily into a virtual format) I was thrilled to start doing something, to start working with my students. And y’all, my students are rockstars. Their creativity, their questions, their passion, their middle school angst, their deep and all-encompassing love for the Percy Jackson series!! Oh, to be 13 again… (I take it back. Never again. NEVER AGAIN.)

The end of the school year came and went. I moved back in with my parents (something I had sworn I would NEVER do) and went through the same “how much do I unpack from the luggage I had already packed” process I’d experienced when temporarily moving in with a friend back in February. Don’t get me wrong, I’m okay with the nomad lifestyle, but it really helps when you’re at least nomad-ing on the correct continent… Luckily, my parents live out in rural Pennsylvania, so the access to nature and ability to walk out the front door without being convinced I would immediately catch COVID from a mask-less passing bro was a nice change from quarantining in Philly. Fresh air and sunshine, y’all. Highly recommended.

When August came, we started our new teacher orientation. Though a majority of the new teachers were either already living in China or had been able to get over to Shanghai, there were about 7 other teachers who were in a similar situation to mine: temporarily stranded somewhere else and had yet to get their visas. But, misery loves company – I was thrilled to have some new people to talk to! (A downside of this nocturnal schedule: a majority of my day is spent very, very alone when it is very, very dark outside. Not great circumstances for an extrovert to find herself in.) We were scattered across the globe – Ireland! Dubai! Korea! Indonesia! – and tuning in to our online orientation from whatever time zone we were in. Though under less than ideal circumstances, and not able to participate in many of the icebreaker activities the campus leadership team had put together to welcome us all to the school, we formed our own little band of misfits, desperately trying to find some semblance of normalcy in what would be a very unique start to the school year.

Having these other “online expats” to bond and commiserate with has been a tremendous blessing for me. Not only have we all been able to touch base on the various complications of obtaining a Chinese visa during a global pandemic, and share tips and tricks of what has been successful in making the process go faster, but we’ve been able to share an experience that can feel enormously isolating. I was more alone than I had ever been – hours away from any of my friends, operating on a completely different sleep schedule than everyone around me, having to sit and watch through a screen as all of my new colleagues got to meet each other and form new relationships – and yet, with these other “virtual teachers,” we found a way to be alone, together.

So now, here we are, September. We started classes two weeks ago, and I am desperately trying to put 180 names along with 180 faces that I can only see from a laptop camera at the front of a classroom 7,400 miles away. I eat my “lunch” at about 1:00 am every night. I’ve found that using a fitness ball instead of a chair does wonders for my back when I’m forced to sit for this many hours a night. (Is this what getting old feels like? I’m going to just blame it on pandemic stagnancy.) It’s not ideal, but it could be so much worse. I remain optimistic, for the most part. (Every few weeks I have a nice emotional meltdown, but at this point, I think that just comes with the territory, right?)

Of the 8 of us who were not in China during orientation, there are only three of us left still waiting on our visas/flights. Someday it may be funny to me – I was the first of the group to be in this situation, and may be the last one out. I’m like the dog who sits at the pound for years watching all of the other newer dogs get adopted. It figures. We online expats have made ourselves a promise: once the last of us gets out of quarantine (required 14 days in a private room upon arrival in China) we are all going to take ourselves out, pop some champagne, and celebrate the end of what has been a long, arduous, and unexpected journey. We MORE than deserve some bubbly after the headaches and nightmares this experience has caused. But, we’ve made it this far, and we’ll somehow make it through. Together. For real, this time.