ID :
570516
Fri, 07/10/2020 - 03:53
Auther :
Shortlink :
https://oananews.org//node/570516
The shortlink copeid
[XINHUA] Days in Wuhan during lockdown
By Yue Wenwan
On Jan.23, two days before the Chinese Lunar New Year, China announced an unprecedented decision to temporarily close outbound channels of Wuhan, a megacity of over 10 million people, to curb the spread of COVID-19. As a journalist, I left home as early as I always did to cover the city’s life upon the implementation of such a move. Alongside streets, red lanterns and traditional Chinese knots created a joyful atmosphere, but far fewer cars and pedestrians could be seen. Many shops were shuttered. It was probably the first time in decades that my hometown, a Chinese metropolis unknown to many foreigners, made headlines worldwide. Facing an influx of questions, doubts and rumors, Xinhua’s Wuhan-based journalists including me gave up our New Year holidays that would have been spent with our families. A total of 85 of us held our ground with pens and cameras, as colleagues rushed to support us from other parts of the country. I joined Xinhua in July 2019, and was among the youngest of the group. In January and February, confirmed COVID-19 cases in Wuhan increased by hundreds and thousands per day, once accounting for over 80 percent of the country’s total. Facing the invisible enemy, we chose to stay where the fierce fight happened. While I was covering how Wuhan was combing communities to locate every confirmed or suspected patient, some of my colleagues went into the isolation wards in hospitals, and some visited corners of the city to report the life of stranded passengers in Wuhan. Behind the seemingly quiet streets, we found that people in all walks of life were racing against time to fight with the virus. It was through their concerted efforts that we saw the first glimmers of victory. Medical workers in Wuhan, regardless of their departments, all tended to infected patients. And at a time of tight medical supplies, nurses extended their shifts from four hours to six or eight hours to save on protective clothing. Zhang Dingyu, president of a local designated hospitals to admit patients infected with COVID-19, was diagnosed with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. Knowing his clock was ticking, he worked at full tilt to treat patients. “I have to outrun death to save more patients,” said Zhang. Luckily, it was not long before medical assistance teams and supplies arrived in Wuhan. Military medics flew to the city on the first night after the lockdown. Since then, a total of 42,600 medical workers from across the country and 4,000 medical personnel dispatched the People’s Liberation Army rushed to Wuhan. When I live broadcast the arrival of more military personnel on Feb. 17, I saw many young female nurses with jaw-length short hair or even a crew cut. They told me it was to make it easier to wear protective clothing and to save the time of washing hair so they could look after more patients. To solve the scarcity of hospital beds, more than 40,000 construction workers nationwide gathered in Wuhan and worked around the clock to build two makeshift hospitals in two weeks. After the completion, many of them stayed in the city to convert public facilities such as gymnasiums and exhibition centers into temporary hospitals that provided more than 14,000 beds and treated over 12,000 patients. Community workers also ran at full speed to help residential complexes implement closed-off management. Their to-do lists exploded to include everything from tracking residents' health to purchasing food and medicines for those in home isolation. Sometimes they answered over 100 calls a day from residents in need. The community managers I interviewed had one thing in common: a hoarse voice. Some of them had not recovered their voice even by June. As for people in Wuhan, most of them faithfully obeyed the instruction to stay at home. Some shouted into the windows to look for neighbors to talk to and encourage each other. And sometimes, we were refused by residents to enter their communities, with the fear that we might carry virus to their blocked yards. Meanwhile, many became volunteers. My parents helped the community distribute vegetables. A local café named Wakanda concocted hundreds of cups of coffee per day and sent them to hospitals free of charge. French national Frederic Domeck did not board the chartered flights that came to fetch French living in Wuhan, instead he drove his own car to deliver food and medical supplies donated by private organizations to hospitals. In my interviews, I got to know tens of foreigners like Domeck who stayed in Wuhan during the lockdown, I frequently heard that they were impressed by the disciplined local people. I think one of my neighbors’ remark could explain this: “Staying put at home is also a contribution to the country. At this difficult time, we should not cause any trouble to the society.” In this virus-ravaged city, everyman heroism was staged every day, and the acts of goodwill helped people muster confidence and hope to win the battle against coronavirus. It is our responsibility to pass on the silver lining of the dark cloud of the epidemic. My home is around 30 minutes’ drive by car from the office, but I, like most of my colleagues, never went back home during the lockdown, fearing our frequent visits to hospitals may put our family members at a higher risk of infection. On April 8, the day Wuhan lifted its outbound traffic restrictions, I got up at 4 a.m. to cover the first flight out of the city. When I asked whether the chief steward was confident about the journey after being off the position for nearly three months, she shed tears: “We have been waiting and preparing for the resumption for months. We are going to make it for sure.” On the way back, we encountered an unexpected traffic jam, the first one in 76 days. Finally, the city began to get back on track. Enditem
