It all started on a Friday morning about three weeks ago, when I got a call on my mobile from what turned out to be Beijing's CDC (Centre for Disease Control and Prevention). The lady on the other end asked me if I had visited a specific five-star hotel in central Beijing over the previous few days. At first I didn't know what she was talking about, but then I realised that I had, indeed, been to that hotel on Tuesday afternoon. I had literally walked into the lobby, asked a question at the front desk, and then left. I was wearing a mask, as was everyone else. I wanted to attend a meeting which was originally scheduled to be held there, although, unbeknown to me, it had been moved elsewhere.
I had spent no more than five minutes on the hotel's premises, but it didn't matter. Before going in I had scanned the QR code at the entrance with my Health Kit app, as directed by the security guards. This meant that my presence in the hotel had been recorded. The lady on the phone said that the hotel had recently hosted someone who later tested positive for Covid-19 (this much I had already guessed). I explained that I had only asked a question at the front desk, and hadn't stuck around. The lady was friendly, complimenting me on my good Chinese, and asked me another couple of questions before hanging up.
At this point I knew that I was potentially in trouble, because the CDC had identified me as a person of interest, and this could mean nothing good. This might be surprising to those who don't live in China, but my concern wasn't in the least bit about the possibility of being infected. I knew there was virtually no chance of that. What I was concerned about was the measures the authorities might decide to take before they convinced themselves I posed no threat to public health. There was a new outbreak going on in Beijing (meaning a few dozen new cases in total), and entire neighbourhoods had been locked down that week in the northern district of Changping and declared "high-risk areas". A colleague of mine had already been placed in centralised quarantine for two weeks, just because she went to visit her parents in what was later designated a high-risk area.
I tried to go about my day with nonchalance, convincing myself that all would be fine. Then a few hours later, when I was in the office, someone from my 社区 (usually translated as "community", but essentially a sort of para-governmental body that manages things at the neighbourhood level) added me on WeChat. He said that, since I had been somewhere risky, I was required to go to the community testing centre and take a PCR test within the next couple of hours, after which I should go to the community office and sign a declaration. I would then have to go home and self-isolate until the results were out the following morning.
All this didn't sound too bad. The big fear is always getting put into quarantine for 14 days, but a night at home seemed manageable. I went to the community centre and got tested, after waiting in a queue of other people who had similarly been sent there by their 社区. After getting the test (a very quick and non-invasive mouth swab), I went to the community office. The man who had added me on WeChat greeted me, and asked me to sign a declaration. The declaration stated that I had never been in close contact with a positive case. I was also asked to write some lines by hand, stating precisely what means of transport I had used to get to the hotel and go home. I asked him if he could write them for me, but he insisted I was supposed to do it myself. I don't often write by hand in Chinese, so I had to look up most of the characters and it took ages.
The man explained that on the previous weekend a photographer who later tested positive had attended a wedding reception at the hotel I had entered. He said that I should now go home and stay there until the results of the PCR test showed up in my app. If I needed to get 外卖 (deliveries) I should ask the delivery guy to leave the goods outside my door, and then only open after he had left.
I agreed to do that, and left to go home. A few minutes later, as I was still walking home, I got a call. It was the same guy I had just spoken to. He said he was really sorry, but he had just checked the policy carefully, and it turned out that anyone who had been to that hotel from Saturday until Tuesday (the day I went) would have to be placed in centralised quarantine for 14 days. He said he would send me the address of the quarantine centre, after which I should pack a bag and go there on my own.
I was horrified, and made this very clear. From what I had heard "centralised quarantine" (集中隔离, or literally "concentrated quarantine") could mean being stuck in a depressing little hotel room for two weeks, and forced to eat bad hotel food for every meal. I wasn't even sure if it would be at my own expense or not. The guy from the 社区 was sympathetic, especially since he could see perfectly well that I had only been in the danger spot for a few minutes, on a different day from the infected person, and the chances of me being infected were infinitesimal.
He said he would see what he could do for me, and that I should go home and wait for his call. As soon as I'd got home he called me back, and said that given that I live alone, he had successfully applied for me to quarantine at home. It would still have to be 14 days, but they would be counted from the day I went to the hotel, so it would actually be 11 days of quarantine. My health code would go yellow, and I would be strictly forbidden from leaving my flat. A sensor would be placed on my door that would warn them every time it was opened. He said they realised I had to get food delivered, so in practice they wouldn't bother me every time I opened my door.
Within half an hour a lady came and installed the sensor on my door, as promised. I was greatly relieved that I would be able to stay in my own home, and this overcame my annoyance at being put under effective house arrest for two weeks. It was almost November, the air was polluted and cold outside, and I had not planned to go anywhere particular over the next two weeks, all of which made things seem more bearable.
I was nervous that the next day they'd change their mind and put me in centralised quarantine after all, but Saturday morning came and went and nobody bothered me. Once I knew that I would definitely be allowed to stay in my own home, I developed a routine to help me use the time productively. I read, wrote, exercised, watched a few films and of course worked remotely, and 11 days flew by. As it happened, the air outside was badly polluted for much of the time I was in quarantine, which very much reduced any yearnings I might have had to go outside "for some fresh air". I would wake up in the morning, look out of the window, and think that another day at home with my air purifier didn't sound so bad after all.
I survived on Meituan deliveries, and I always did make sure I avoided direct contact with the delivery guy, although in practice no one was checking. Every few days I would place my garbage bags in the hallway at a set time, inform my "minder" on WeChat, and someone from the 社区 would come and dispose of them. I was nervous about my elderly neighbours realising I was in quarantine, either because of the garbage bags in the hallway or because of the sensor on my door, and calling the 社区 to demand I be taken away because I was a danger to them, so I tried to take out the garbage as little as possible. I don't think my fear was completely unjustified, but in this case it was groundless. My neighbours gave me no trouble, and I don't think they even realised I was self-isolating.
Two times, on the third and on the last day of the quarantine, a couple of people in full PPE suits came to my house to give me a PCR test. They also took samples from my floor and walls, to test them for Covid-19. On the first visit I was given a rather long and unpleasant nose swab. On the second one I was given a much gentler nose and throat swab, after asking them not to be too rough.
On the morning of the 15th day since I had paid that accursed visit to the hotel, the negative results of my last PCR test appeared on my health kit, and my code went from yellow to green. I was officially a free man again. Thankfully it had snowed over the weekend, washing away the pall of smog that had settled over Beijing, and I went out for a well-deserved walk in the (actual) fresh air. A few days later, someone came and took down the sensor from my door. For seven days after the end of the quarantine I was still under "health monitoring", meaning that I was required to report my temperature twice a day in a WeChat group set up for this purpose by the 社区.
I also had plenty of company. Another colleague of mine, who went to a conference at the same hotel where I had the misfortune of setting foot (they host a lot of conferences in my field), also ended up in quarantine. She was allowed to stay home too, but she was told it was because there were no beds left in the quarantine centres. This gives you an idea of how many people must have been quarantined in Beijing alone.
Looking back on the whole experience, a few points spring to my mind:
The 社区 never asked me whether I was vaccinated, and it would have made no difference anyway. China's strategy is to stamp out Covid, not just contain it, and being jabbed doesn't stop you from catching and spreading the virus, so in these situations it affords you no special privileges. That might be why the state actually puts very little pressure on people to get inoculated here.
It was only sheer luck that the guy in charge of my case sympathised with me, and applied for me to quarantine from home. He may have taken a liking to me because I was able to write my declaration in Chinese by hand, or because I gave him the impression of being someone reliable who would follow the rules and not cause him any trouble. It is quite possible that if I had been unable to speak Chinese, or been from a different country, he would not have wanted the trouble of dealing with me or would not have trusted me to stay home.
It was also crucial that I was not identified as a "close contact" of an infected person, or I am sure I would have been dealt with far more strictly. Instead, I was identified as a person who had been to a "high-risk area", which is less serious. This is part of the reason I was allowed to self-isolate at home, which in China is a very lax measure, rather than being dragged off by people in hazmat suits. Even if I had been placed in a quarantine centre I would have been asked to get there on my own, supposedly by taxi, which would have rather defeated the point. If I had turned out to be infected, I'm sure the driver would have then been quarantined too. That other colleague of mine who really was put in a quarantine centre did in fact get there by taxi, so clearly this is common.
"High-risk areas" can be entire buildings, like the hotel I entered, or entire neighbourhoods. The rule is that anyone who has been to one has to be put in some sort of quarantine, regardless of the actual risk that they are infected. The neighbourhood bureaucrat in charge of my quarantine clearly knew there was no real risk of me being infected, or he wouldn't have stood near me and spoken to me in his office, armed only with a mask. At the same time he couldn't just let me go, because the rules are the rules, and those rules stated very clearly that I had to be quarantined. This is how the pandemic has been put down in China, with extremely strict rules applied across the board by local officials, themselves under huge pressure.
Could I have broken my quarantine and slipped out of my home? I think I probably could have done, but apart from any moral considerations, it would have been risky. There was the sensor on my door of course, but I was clearly expected to open my door a few times a day, and there is no camera in my corridor as far I know. If I had gone out for a walk, I don't think anyone would have stopped me. My compound usually doesn't have guards checking health codes at the gate.
Still, the state has plenty of high-tech and low-tech means of surveillance at its disposal, and getting caught could have meant being placed in a quarantine centre, at the very least. My health code was yellow, meaning that getting into any shop or restaurant would have been impossible. Security guards might be fooled by an old screenshot of a green code, but then again they might not be. Also, I am not sure if my movements were being tracked by GPS through my phone, but I wouldn't rule it out.
Perhaps I could have just slipped out for an evening stroll without my phone, but I cannot exclude that the elderly "community officers" with red armbands who sit around outside my building might have been informed that I was supposed to stay home. My neighbours may also have known I was not supposed to leave, and could have reported me. Although I was pretty certain I was not infected or a danger to anyone, in the unlikely case I had broken quarantine and then actually tested positive, I could have ended up in jail. The risk of breaking the rules was simply not worth it, so I wisely stayed home.
It's now over a week since my quarantine ended, and the outbreak in Beijing seems to have been put down. No new cases have been found in days and people are relaxing a bit, although there are fewer public events than usual and everyone expects things to remain tense until the Olympics are done with. In the rest of the country the situation is also effectively under control. No matter how many misguided people who don't live here continue claiming that China is hiding large numbers of cases and deaths, there is no question that these crude methods of pandemic-control are effective.
It seems to me that China has the capability to keep playing this game of whack-a-mole with Covid-19 for a long, long time, even as the rest of the world learns to "live with Covid". The question, I suppose, is when the game will become too costly, too unpopular, or too obviously unnecessary to keep up. That day will come, but it may not be too soon. For those of us who live in China, this is a reality that must be accepted.
