Fang Fang - Wuhan Diary - Dispatches from a Quarantined City

Of course, I’m more than willing to believe that there are a lot of outstanding journalists not just in Wuhan, but throughout Hubei Province. It is very possible that you indeed investigated these issues, you may have even written up some articles, but then they were not approved for publication. It is also possible that journalists requested permission to pursue some of these stories, but they were not even approved. If that is indeed the case, it would actually give me some sense of consolation. It’s just a shame that up until today, I have not heard a single case of anything like that having happened. Dr. Ai Fen already sounded the alarm; Dr. Li Wenliang also made some noise; but who is there to carry on their mission? The sound of the whistleblowers has disappeared under the triumphant songs and laughter blaring from those two big media companies. The coronavirus mercilessly spreads and expands; one after another, doctors fall in the line of duty; and yet each issue of our newspapers continues to be filled with vibrant colors, smiling faces, red flags, beautiful flowers, cries of joy. Even a normal citizen like me knew about how deadly this virus was back on January 18, so I started wearing a face mask every time I went out. But what about our media organizations? On January 19th they covered the government’s big 40,000-person banquet, and on January 21st they reported on how all the major provincial leaders had attended the big Chinese New Year concert. Every day, they were blindly leading the public to believe that we were still riding high on this great and prosperous era; and there was not a single word warning the public that a new viral monster had its jaws open and was already on its way to our front door. Looking back on the period from the Chinese New Year all the way up through the time that construction of the temporary hospitals was completed—there were thousands of people who suffered and died during that time—I wonder if there is anyone out there with a conscience who feels bad that they abandoned the single most important professional responsibility they had during that time. For those two major news organizations that misguided the public instead of informing them, I wonder if either of them plans on taking responsibility and resigning?

One reporter from the Yangtze Daily named W claimed in a report that all Fang Fang knows how to do is make “wild accusations.” Well, there, I might be a slow learner, but it looks like I picked up this term pretty quickly. So I decided: Why not go ahead and make some more “wild accusations” today?

March 15, 2020

These days fewer and fewer people are discussing the coronavirus while more and more people are discussing when we can get back to work.

Another beautiful day and the sky is clear and bright, which tends to put you in a good mood. A few days ago, my maternal aunt’s niece, who also lives in the same complex as me, dropped off some snacks, like steamed buns and dumplings. After eating them for the past two days, I now have a much better understanding of why northerners love eating that stuff so much. It is much more convenient if your staple diet is based around breads and noodles. There are a lot of semimanufactured goods you can make from wheat products; you just need to do a little preparation and they are quite filling. Having a wheat-based diet is much more convenient and less work than cooking rice and dishes for each meal. (By the way, in response to those people online raising questions about how I can pick up food from the front gate if we are supposed to be quarantined inside our homes, I want to clarify that I live within the Literary Federation compound and when I go out, I only go downstairs to the main gate of our compound to pick up groceries.) It is a good thing I like bread and noodles. These days everyone is talking about how much trouble cooking and cleaning up the kitchen has become. We used to be able to just call for takeout and throw everything away when we were done; it was so much easier.

Today my friend JW forwarded me an essay her little brother, Mr. Li, wrote. Mr. Li had two friends who are both members of the senior choir. It is very common for a lot of senior citizens in Wuhan to join various arts and culture groups like that. That is especially true for people of my generation who all grew up during the Cultural Revolution when every school had a cultural propaganda team. So a lot of us know how to sing and dance. Once they retire, people tend to have a lot of free time, and all those old artistic cells start to come back to life. During every weekend and holiday, these retirees really come to life. One after another, they participate in all kinds of performances and parties; they really know how to enjoy their golden years. This year was no different, except for the fact that the novel coronavirus came mercilessly sweeping down and ended up targeting many of them. Mr. Li’s essay was a tribute to his two friends. The essay begins with: “How could I have ever imagined that the lives of my two close friends Bao Jie and Su Huajian would be suddenly taken from us this Chinese New Year?”

There is a moving story connected to this: A man fell ill with the coronavirus, and his 90-year-old mother was concerned that the rest of the family might get infected, so she took care of him at the hospital as they were waiting for a bed so her son could be admitted. This elderly mother stayed by her son’s side for five days and five nights until the hospital finally had a room for him. However, because his condition had deteriorated during that time, he needed to be admitted to the ICU. His mother asked if she could borrow a pen from one of the nurses to write a letter to her son. The letter read: “My son, you need to hang in there and be strong to get over this terrible illness. Please listen to what the doctors say. I know the respirator might feel uncomfortable, but you need to put up with it in order to recover. Please tell the doctor as soon as your blood pressure returns to normal and you can breathe through your nose again. I forgot to bring any cash when I came to the hospital, so I asked your doctor to lend me 500 yuan so I could get someone to pick up some daily necessities for you.” There’s no one who read that letter without shedding a tear. But that’s what a mother does; even though her son was in his 60s, he will always be her child. This son was Mr. Li’s friend Bao Jie. Regrettably, Bao Jie never got to read that letter. He died the following day, leaving his family members behind, including a strong elderly mother who won everyone’s respect and admiration.

According to Mr. Li, “The arts group of the Whampoa Military Academy alumni association was preparing a program for the big Chinese New Year concert; since Bao Jie has a connection with the academy through his parents, someone recommended that he join the arts group. As soon as he showed up, Bao Jie really shined. He had a great voice; he actually received professional vocal training and sang with real emotion. It only took two days for them to recommend that he be the lead singer for the choir. On the afternoon of January 17, Bao Jie successfully completed his task as lead singer during the Whampoa Military Academy Chinese New Year concert. He was standing right next to me at the time.” But Bao Jie went on to also perform at another New Year event the following day on the 18th, and that is where he became infected. “Three people were infected at the same time, and two of them lost their battle with the coronavirus.”

There is another local choir in Wuhan called the Xi-Wen Choir. It was first jointly established by students and teachers from the Xilida Girl’s Middle School and the Wenhua Middle School in 1938. After the Reform Era began in the 1980s, some of the old alumni put the Xi-Wen Choir back together, but now its members were no longer limited to alumni of those two schools; anyone could now join. The Xi-Wen Choir held quite a few concerts throughout January. Mr. Li said that both he and Huajian were part of the tenor section and were quite close. “On January 9, some of the members of the Xi-Wen Choir had a concert luncheon at Fanhu; that was the last time I saw Huajian.” He continued, “He was usually quite active in our group. But he suddenly stopped showing his face; my friends and I tried to call him, but he didn’t pick up. He didn’t even respond to WeChat messages we sent him. Everyone thought that it was very out of the ordinary for him, and we were starting to get worried.” From that point on, no one was able to get back in touch with Su Huajian, all the way up until they received notice of his death. Su Huajian passed away on March 6. You can still find some videos of the Xi-Wen Choir performing online; there is one song in particular called “Holding Hands” that I find particularly moving. Perhaps it is because I have experienced so much in my life that I am so easily moved by these things. Part of the lyrics go: “I hold your hands and I want to walk with you again in my next life; I have you beside me on this road we walk together, there is never a time to look back.” That is one song that could be the soundtrack for your life.