Two weeks ago Corona was just a beer.

A couple of disclaimers to start:

ONE: I’m no doctor, reporter, researcher or a public official and I am certainly no expert in nCoV-2019 (the Corona Virus that everyone around here is talking about).

I’m just an expat in China who is getting his news from the same sources you are.

The point of this post is not information or education . . . just a glimpse at what it going on here from one perspective. There are a billion and a half others.

TWO: This post is time-sensitive. It will be outdated by the time I finish writing it.

It feels a little like a ghost town around here.

The streets are empty. The shops are closed. It’s really quiet.

For context: I live in Qingdao (if you don’t know Qingdao you probably just pronounced it wrong in your head) — a city of about 9 million people on the east coast of China, roughly 1000 km (600 miles) from the virus epicenter, Wuhan.

Also for context — It’s a holiday week. China just celebrated the lunar New Year on Saturday so this is the week where things are a little quiet anyway — but not THIS quiet.

The impact of the virus is undeniable.

The government has been diligent about requesting that people stay home when they can and wear masks if they go out.

Masks are required in many of the places that remain open as well as services like DiDi (the Chinese version of Uber)

Bus lines and subways have been shut down or altered.

Our apartment complex has locked or blocked all but one gate and closely monitors anyone coming in or out. Deliveries and visitors are not allowed and residents have their temperature checked before going in.

Essentials are still available. The convenience store outside of our gate remains open as well as the market across the street and a supermarket 10 minutes away.

Veggies are in high demand.

Dozens of people stand in line at the big shops and the small shops are picked clean.

Schools have been canceled for an additional two weeks beyond the New Year break. That on top of the two week Christmas break for our international school and a quick trip back to the States for a funeral means that our kids will have been in school for 1 of 8 weeks in the middle of the winter.

Kids are thrilled.

Mamas are not.

So in summary:

The primary, direct and personal IMPACT for us is inconvenience.

The THREAT though, feels real . . . and multi-layered.

There is a PRESENT and PRACTICAL threat

The reality is that there is a scary new virus, uninvited and working its way through parts of China and eeking its way into other places.

While I am writing this about 6000 cases have been confirmed but yesterday when I started writing, that number was 4500. It’s higher if you’re reading this.

You can go here for live updates: NY Times

For contrast, the SARS epidemic of 2002-03 infected around 8000 people in total, however, it was more deadly than nCorona.

The impact for many people is higher than stir-crazy kids and long veggie lines.

We have lots of friends who live in Wuhan who are on complete lockdown, unable to leave. We have others who were traveling and are unable to return.

There is very much a sense of “wait and see” but that comes with an even stronger sense of “come on! seriously?”

The expat response that I have heard (primarily from Westerners) and if I’m honest, have felt myself, is that there is a lot of overreaction, bordering on light hysteria.

The flu is still killing more people.

In my city the most recent number was 15 cases . That’s .0000016% of the population.

But irritated and annoyed opinions aside. It’s out there. People have died. And (the big kicker) we don’t know what’s going to happen next.

The NY Times describes it this way:

“Outbreaks of new viral diseases are like the steel balls in a pinball machine: You can slap your flippers at them, rock the machine on its legs and bonk the balls to the jittery rings, but where they end up dropping depends on 11 levels of chance as well as on anything you do.”

Read: We made the Coronavirus Epidemic

There is also a PERCEIVED PUBLIC threat

The percentages may be tiny when it comes to confirmed cases compared to the population but the response is sitting right around 100%.

The uncertainty has people on edge.

Two days ago, I forgot to put my mask on and the guy at the shop nearly panicked. He told me in Chinese that there was a virus spreading and then in very clear and stern English he said, “Stay home!”

Even though the use of standard, cheap surgical masks is minimally protective at best, they seem to have provided a universal layer of slight peace of mind.

I found it especially interesting that the worker behind the supermarket meat counter was wearing a mask . . . but handled our ground pork with her bare hands.

I took a picture but with my luck the Chinese media would pick up on this post and the supermarket would be shut down.

Read: BBC – Can wearing masks stop the spread of viruses?

Beyond that, there is a PARANOID threat

This is where it gets interesting. Where there are gaps in understanding they are often filled with the loudest voices.

And scared people are loud.

Lists of anyone who has traveled here from Wuhan complete with their ID numbers, phone numbers, and other personal information have been circulating publicly, sparking online conversations with a mob mentality.

This threat feels like it is lurking deeper than our sheer ignorance of what this thing is and how it will impact people. Paranoia is fueled by speculation — armchair doctors who read something somewhere and tout worst-case scenarios as likely and imminent danger.

So far — they are more annoying than the virus.

All of the threats are real.

The impacts are vastly different.

The actual threat of contracting the virus remains low but is growing faster than anyone is comfortable with.

The perception threat may or may not be based in pure, scientific fact but if the veggie shop guy feels it — we don’t get veggies.

The paranoid threat is wobbly. The impact is unnecessary but very real for people who are perceived to be high risk. To date, I haven’t seen any torches or pitchforks, but the mob is chattering.

Moments like these crank up the volume . . . on EVERYTHING.

When hard uncertainties hit an entire population, every preexisting condition gets inflated.

The stress.

The anxiety.

The frustration.

The gossip.

The speculation.

The annoyance.

The paranoia.

The selfishness.

The anger.

The impatience.

The fear.

But also. The best bits.

The resolve.

The encouragement.

The support.

The solidarity.

The strength.

A different flavored mob organized a united, massive, public display of people from all over Wuhan, who, while confined to their homes, opened their windows and yelled,

“JIA YOU! WUHAN!”

“Jia you” is a beautiful and incredibly functional Chinese phrase. You hear it in the final stretch of an Olympic race or in the fourth quarter of a basketball game. You also hear it as encouragement from a good friend when you’ve been knocked down and you need to get back up.

Literally, in English, it would mean something like “Add oil” but you get the point right?

Step on the gas.

More fuel.

We’ve got this.

My friend posted this video from her neighborhood.

Read: BBC – Tales of Solidarity from China’s virus-hit Wuhan

As an expat in China

I’m happy to complain about my inconvenience.

Just ask me and I’ll tell you about the ridiculousness of the overreaction and how genuinely irritating it is.

Just don’t ask me to be responsible for the lives and peace of mind of a fifth of the world’s people.

As a visitor, I’m thankful for the quick, decisive and strong action of authorities (government, local, school and more) who are responding not only to the threat of a real and unclear virus but also to the perception and paranoia of the people they are responsible to protect.

Whether I would do it differently or not . . . I don’t want your job.

And I will wear my mask.