My travels were bizarre not only because of this grief, but because for almost 72 straight hours, I had to wear a mask, regularly sanitise my hands, and avoid any and all contact with my fellow passengers. Arriving in New Zealand never felt so good.
I write this article from the comforts of the Sudima Hotel in Rotorua. I have spent exactly one week in managed isolation, and I am loving it. There is something exquisite about being alone and having all the time in the world to rest, recuperate, paint, sleep, read and write. I have not one, but two, double beds, and windows that open into a sunny courtyard. The food is decent, I have a wellbeing adviser who calls me regularly to check up on my mental health, and plenty of useful literature to read on coping with isolation. There is a large sunny grass area and car park where I can walk each day, with army folk on hand to supply us with sunscreen. What more could one ask for?
Why have I decided to return home in the midst of a global pandemic? A few months ago my dear grandmother suffered a stroke. This, compounded with her cancer diagnosis, prompted me to book my flights, even if this meant I had to endure two weeks of isolation, and pay through the nose for it. I only wish I had booked my flights sooner. Grandma died on November 20. I take some comfort in knowing that my dear aunts read and reread my letters to her in her final days.
I have been looking forward to returning to New Zealand for some time. As much as I love my life in Oxford, it is exhausting — mentally, physically, and emotionally — being so far away from my family during tough times. And, I must admit, I have missed the warmth of the New Zealand sunshine and the feel of the cool ocean water on my skin.
But what has truly made this experience — that of returning home even when I know my grandma is not there to greet me — tolerable, even enjoyable, has been the warm and friendly welcome of my fellow Kiwis. Upon touching down in Auckland, I was greeted by a bright, good-natured young man who took my temperature. He immediately put me at ease, cracking a few jokes and congratulating me on surviving my travels.
I could have cried. I was utterly exhausted and bore an uncanny resemblance to an extra from the set of The Walking Dead.
But I was embraced by our country’s manaakitanga. I felt the aroha, the love, and the compassion from the frontline and MIQ workers as they welcomed us home. It was incredible. At every stop on my travels, I was greeted with kind smiles and compassion. I almost cried upon finding out my isolation hotel was in Rotorua, another 3 hours’ travel on the bus. I felt so utterly drained that I couldn’t remember how to spell my name, nor could I walk in a straight line. But the staff and security people at Sudima Hotel greeted us with patience and warm smiles, and have been unfailingly kind, cheery, and supportive ever since.
I am aware that not everyone will be enjoying their experience in managed isolation. Not everyone has the support system I have, and not everyone is as comfortable being on their lonesome for an extended period of time.
As an immunocompromised person living under the incompetent and uncaring rule of the Tories, I have felt vulnerable, ignored and disregarded. I am so glad New Zealand listened to the epidemiologists and learned from the mistakes of other governments. It is undoubtedly a costly process to isolate all incoming arrivals to the country, but it has saved many precious lives.
A recent Bloomberg report found New Zealand to be the best place in the world for the coronavirus era. With a population of 5million people, so far we have had just 25 deaths and roughly 2100 cases. I am grateful for the superb decision-making and clear-headed rationale exhibited by our government, with its swift and efficient contact tracing, early decisive reactions from health authorities, and targeted testing strategies.
To quote Alexis Robert, writing for The Lancet, "the lockdown implemented in New Zealand was remarkable for its stringency and its brevity". I have witnessed firsthand the major economic disruption and deterioration of mental health in the population occasioned by lengthy lockdowns and an ever-confusing set of pandemic rules issued by an incompetent government.
But my fellow Kiwis, please do not be complacent. If you feel unwell or begin to develop any symptoms of the coronavirus, notify the authorities, take care of yourself, and stay home. Sign into every public space with the track and trace system and mask up on public transport. Trust me, having lived in the United Kingdom for the entirety of the pandemic, things can get much, much worse. To quote the old adage, you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.
As for me? I will make the most of my final week in isolation. I cannot wait to see my family again. I cannot wait to enfold my brothers and sisters in big hugs, and I cannot wait to gather inside without worrying about social distancing. I only wish I could have got home in time to see Grandma again before she passed, but such is life. I am grateful for what I have.
■ Jean Balchin, a former English student at the University of Otago, is studying at the University of Oxford after being awarded a Rhodes Scholarship.
