Dear May 2020,
I skipped writing during March and April, which was the height of quarantine in the Philippines. However, tonight, I will document a bit.
I flew to Manila on the 3rd of March. For the first time in 12 years of working overseas, I was fined for having a two-kilo luggage excess! When I boarded the aircraft, my jaw dropped at the sight of how empty the plane was for a popular midnight flight.
When Wuhan, a city of 14 million people, went into lockdown in January of this year, something inside me sensed that China was facing a serious crisis. I couldn’t shake the feeling that an outbreak was imminent. Since then, I began reading news articles and blogs about the virus and Wuhan as much as I could.
Back then, I wasn’t just curious; I was fearful. I am still fearful.
In my working life, there was a time when a colleague and I isolated a compound from a mouse brain. After various physical and chemical treatments, I was astonished to see that the cell was still alive! I thought to myself, “How can it survive that?” while peering at it through a microscope. Science certainly has answers, but I was in awe of its resilience. The cell remained alive until we decided to pour hydrogen peroxide on it. Deprived of oxygen, it eventually died.
Witnessing this a few years ago shaped my belief that the next deadly threat could come from a tiny, powerful, unwavering cell. With the fear of an impending outbreak, I flew to Manila, thinking, “If my hometown goes into lockdown, I want to be home.”
Why do I want to be home? I had read stories of Wuhan locals who, while many left the city, returned to be with their families and faced the health crisis together. China is known for its family-oriented culture, and I longed to be home, to be with my family as we confront a crisis together.
Then, pandemia was declared by the WHO, and the world experienced a quarantine that this generation will never forget.
The Sacred Gift That I Have Been Given
While the entire world was threatened by the virus and I was under strict orders to stay home and shop for my family, I realized the depth and beauty of a gift I had been given—the gift of freedom.
At this point in my life, freedom includes the ability to hug, go out and experience life, be free from illness, choose when to leave home and return, get physically close to others, worship, express complaints and disgust, mourn, visit loved ones in the hospital, avoid name-calling, inquire, work, be free from lust and sin, escape violence, impunity, and lies.
Quarantine made me understand that freedom is the greatest gift from God to mankind. For so long, I thought life itself was the greatest gift. But the presence of a new virus made me question, “What is life without freedom?”
Then, I recalled the resilient cell we experimented on years ago and realized that freedom was the power it possessed. It fought for its existence—the freedom to exist and multiply, the freedom to be the cell it was created to be. The power of freedom that I witnessed never left me.
On this night of Pentecost Sunday, I recognize the immense honor of being given freedom. We celebrate Pentecost because Jesus died for us, setting us free from the yoke of slavery.
Thank you, Jesus. Thank you for the gift of freedom.
This is a photo from my quarantine in May featuring my furry housemate, Clarise, who is getting more comfortable sleeping beside me.
The Chronicles of Benia 