Here’s How I’m Spending COVID-19 Quarantine in South Korea
By: Yj Jun
Tags: Covid 19, Health, South Korea, Coronavirus, Policy

Here’s How I’m Spending COVID-19 Quarantine in South Korea

Incheon International Airport. Photo courtesy of author

I spent my first hours in Korea in a testing center because my temperature was 37.5°C (99.5°F), a hair above the cutoff of 37.3 (99.1°F).

That was after I was tested 37.8°C at the temperature screening station — right before immigration — and 37.6°C at the testing intake center next to it.

“Must be because of my beanie,” I explained. I had also been wearing the jacket I bought to fight off polar vortexes in Chicago. I had rushed off the plane to get home as soon as possible.

After giving me five minutes to cool down, the employee who had tested me rushed over. “You shouldn’t have your earphones in. That can prevent your temperature from going down.”

I had been meditating to calm myself.

I measured at 37.5°C. She informed me I’d be transported to a testing facility.

“You can go home after you test negative.”

“How long will that take?”

She looked down and tilted her head to one side. “Probably after midnight?”

I crossed the hall to part two of the makeshift intake center. I stared longingly at immigration, literally yards away, baggage claim down the stairs just yards beyond that.

Notice up on the wall of the intake center at Incheon International Airport. Photo and translation courtesy of author.

After making sure we filled out our forms, downloaded the mandatory Self-Quarantine Monitoring app, and had a chance to call loved ones (“There’s no cellphone reception where you’re headed.”), employees shepherded us through immigration, baggage claim, and onto the bus that would take us to the testing facility. I was in a group of 10 people, 3 of whom were other English-speakers like me, 1 of whom didn’t speak Korean at all. The mood was a mix of disgruntlement, good-natured laughter, solemnity, and, remarkably, from the one guy who said he had been traveling 35 hours, zen.

It turns out the “testing facility” was a security facility with one poor soul running all the tests. We each got individual rooms with plastic-wrapped beds, a TV, a thermometer, and a bathroom with a shower. No towels, though. “We’re not a hotel,” employees explained apologetically.

“Okay, at least there’s a bed,” I thought. I wiped everything I could with the antibacterial wipes I had brought. “At least I get to watch TV.”

I had to measure my temperature again as soon as airport security closed my door, then call down to the front desk to report the results. I measured at 37.1°C in one ear and 37.2°C in another. (The plastic nub on the thermometer was switched out when security dropped me off.) The front desk took my call but rushed to say they would call me back. I found out later they never wrote my numbers down, and by the time they called back, I truthfully reported my temperature at the time, which was 37.5°C.

If I hadn’t been in such a rush to get to immigration at the airport if the front desk at the testing facility had managed to get my temperature the first time, could I have gone home sooner?

In a huge mental health victory to my anxiety-riddled self, I didn’t worry about it.

I slept, got both the nose and throat swab, slept, ate the dinner they provided (which was good, because of course — Korean hospitality), slept, and watched Korea beat Cuba at a baseball game. Throughout, I made solid headway on the special version of Haunting of Hill House that my brother got me for my birthday, with my wife’s help.

Airport-provided meal of fresh salad, glorious kimchi, and crispy donkatsu with rice. Photo courtesy of author.

I was exhausted. I had barely slept on the plane, and with the sparse Wi-Fi I had, I was trying to keep my mom in the loop, while she was trying to keep me cool in the head (pun intended).

At 1 AM, 8 hours after landing, I was told I tested negative. Yay! Now I didn’t have to worry about getting tested at a testing facility near my home in the next 3 days, the way I would have if I had just gone straight home.

Back at the airport, I waited for a special quarantine taxi to take me home. We got a lovely dusting of snow while I was at the testing facility, so there weren’t any taxis heading to Seoul. (I’m not sure how taxis from further provinces had made it, but that’s the excuse I was told.) The taxi drivers already there offered to change their destination, but the coordinator said no. The rules must be strict.

At 2 AM, I got home and, still wearing my mask, said hello to my mother.

Of course, I panicked many times throughout the night. I almost cried. What if I had the virus? What if I’d spread it? Even if I didn’t have it what would happen to me over the next several hours and what if there’s no taxi at the end of it all and what if I caught the virus going to and from the testing center?

But despite all that, I was, throughout that experience, and am still incredibly proud of my mother country. This is how it should be done: stem off people at the source, treat them with empathy and professionalism, and keep the country safe.

Testing myself back at home, my temperature has reliably tested at 36.6°C (97.9°F).