The Repatriation Situation

(Random note about the blog title: This school year Mart and I decided to watch The Big Bang Theory from start to finish. It was slow-going since we committed to only watching with each other and sometimes lost our steam, but during the last week of school, we finally finished the 279th episode. If you've watched the series, you'll recognize the format of this blog post title.) 

For the last eight years, whenever we've gone to America, it's been for six or seven blissful weeks. Reality and responsibilities are suspended. Friends and family make a special effort to meet up with us. We indulge in all of our favorite things, like shopping, events, and restaurants. Then, with our suitcases stuffed with our summer purchases, we hop on a flight that's paid for, back to our house that's paid for by a housing allowance and cleaned by a housekeeper, and a classroom that's fully stocked by the school and supported by a full-time teaching assistant. When we first decided to move back to the States at the end of the school year, I thought losing the financial perks, household help, and well-funded classroom would be the hardest part of our transition.

Then, Covid happened. Initially, being in Asia, we were right in the thick of it. We avoided any major lifestyle changes for a long time, other than travel restrictions, but then mid-March we joined the majority of the world in moving to online learning and sheltering in place for a good two months. During that time, the US Embassy encouraged all citizens to get home as soon as possible, to avoid being stuck out of the country. Many of our friends who teach in various countries around the world did indeed fly home to avoid being stuck in their host country and to avoid the virus - only to be out of the frying pan and into the fire. 

Our head of school encouraged us to stay put, in hopes that by June, travel restrictions would ease up (normally we're encouraged to book flights home by February). We felt lucky to be "stuck" in Thailand, where the number of cases remained pretty low. We waited things out and finally booked flights for mid-June, only have them canceled two days later. We rebooked with a different airline and a different transfer point (Japan wasn't allowing transfers, so we flew through Korea instead) and luckily had no issues. 

Just before we left, Thailand began to open up malls, beaches, and airports for domestic flights - with temperature checks and masks required. Even popping into the local 7-11, masks were required to enter, we had our temperature checked, and we had to check-in and out with a QR code, for tracking and to offer feedback about procedures, distancing, cleanliness, etc. 

After school got out, we were able to travel to a nearby beach and rent an Airbnb for one last hurrah with our "quaran-team" - the few people we'd seen and interacted with since the lockdown went into effect. 

When we returned from the beach, the movers came to load up our shipment and we packed up and spent our final days in Thailand with Marty's family before leaving for our latest "adventure" - repatriating to the United States. 

I was completely floored when we were greeted at the airport by not only our nanny but two others. Until this point, I had been so impressed with how the girls were handling the transition. (I can still remember the ugly tears we all cried in China just before we left, and my feeling of guilt about taking our children from their friends and home.) But when Everleigh saw P'Bua, our nanny, she "cracked," as she says, and finally let out all the big feelings she'd been holding inside. We were very well-loved and cared for in Thailand, not only by these incredible ladies, but Gma and Gpa Ruthai, and our extended family friends, as well. 

Traveling internationally during this time was surreal. Both Suvarnabhumi airport in Bangkok and Incheon in Seoul were empty. It's eerie - but also kind of amazing - to walk through an entire airport and only see a handful of other passengers. Our flight from Bangkok to Seoul was about half full, while our long haul flight from Seoul to Chicago had about 30 passengers in all. We all had our own rows to lie down in, which was incredible! Masks were required both in the airports and on the flights, and we had temperature checks at both airports, as well as a TSA interview in Seoul.

Once we reached O'Hare in Chicago, it was a different story. Many passengers walking through the airport weren't wearing masks, and our flight to Moline was completely packed. Luckily masks are required on American, so all passengers had them on for our half-hour flight home. 

We were greeted at the airport by my parents, who brought us our requested first meal - Jimmy Johns and Whitey's Ice Cream. We gave them most of our 11 suitcases, and they gave us a car to head four hours southeast to Marty's aunt's cabin on Lake Mattoon for our two-week quarantine (which is not required but merely suggested, according to the announcements being made in line during immigration). 

We're five days in and holding up pretty well. Luckily the weather has been gorgeous, so thanks to plenty of outdoor time, we all beat jetlag in just a couple of days. Now, we're just soaking up the beautiful scenery, peace, and quiet - coloring, listening to podcasts, working on puzzles, and playing games. 

After our two weeks, we'll head to my parents' place to stay until we sort out all the details of settling back into life in the States - a house, car, etc. Luckily, the job part is all lined up. I'll be teaching third grade at Millikin in Geneseo - however that might look, come fall. Marty is taking a year off from teaching and exploring new opportunities.