Lately every single phone call home has been the same – “How are you?” “The same. Fewer people are wearing masks” “Here too”. “Okay, don’t get covid, love you bye’
It feels like we are stagnating here. Life in Shanghai is more or less back to normal – people are back at work, back at restaurants, back at the gyms. But it’s not the same. Last weekend, we canceled a trip to Inner Mongolia because of the Beijing outbreak. Having been quarantined for fourteen days once, I have no desire to do it again. The rules can change at any day, so it feels safer to be in Shanghai. There are still no sports, no performances, no music. And museums are opening up, but so slowly. I feel like there is nothing to do but to hedonistically brunch. We have so much energy from being pent up in the city, but no real way to express it.
But then, there is also this guilt, because why should I be complaining, sitting down writing this in a coffee shop, sipping on an overpriced Americano? I don’t know when the next time I will be able to leave China, or even Shanghai.