He also revealed how he was treated during his stay in the U.S.: “A little bit because all the Korean people wore masks when we stay in the United States, and they are looking like, ‘Oh what the hell are they doing that (for)? Why are they wearing masks? Are they contagious for that? Why do they care about the coronavirus?’ So, they are looking at us like anywhere we go. So, we feel like racism. Especially in the supermarket.”

​

The irony of his answer didn’t hit me at the time.

​

International flights in the midst of a burgeoning pandemic was terrifying, especially after binging on the non-stop media coverage. It is hard to fathom the creepiness of walking through an empty, monstrous San Francisco Airport. You have to experience it.

​

The silence was downright eerie. I will never forget it. The buzz of the machinery was an ambient noise that echoed off the cavernous roof. Practically no one in line, not in the check-in, not at Starbucks, not at the Southwest gate waiting to board. The people who were there were all intensely watching each other. You could see the eyes darting back and forth. The thought of being close to another human was chilling. Mostly everyone wore masks and kept a safe distance.

​

So imagine the shock of entering the plane and seeing rows and rows of passengers. Do they not realize we are facing a deathly virus? Apparently, everyone had to be somewhere, like us. Many were citizens of South Korea who, anticipating international travel would be banned, were making their way back home. I shared my disinfectant wipe with a gentleman next to me on the plane.

​

I took a deep breath when we landed in Incheon, South Korea, preparing myself for the tough journey through customs. It was also frighteningly quiet in this airport, the only noise coming from the people in line trying to prove residency. Anyone who couldn’t provide a specific address of residence was forced to stay at a facility where they could safely quarantine.

​

Each step of the way, passengers’ temperatures were tracked through thermal cameras. Once we were determined to be in healthy condition, or at least not having the common symptoms of the virus, arriving passengers were required to download a phone app to track our location and health status for the first two weeks. It felt surreal at the time but, in hindsight, it is not surprising as South Korea eventually became a model country for their response to the pandemic.

​

Many Americans, when the coronavirus started ravaging the nation, were suspicious of South Koreans — all Asians, actually — yet while in South Korea I felt so safe considering we were in the midst of a global pandemic.

​

As I walked the sunny streets of the enormous Korean downtowns, everyone wore masks and kept a friendly distance. Yet, they still made sure to acknowledge one another with a respectful bow. Elaborate shopping malls were even open. As one entered these oversized malls, they were greeted by employees monitoring their temperature on cameras and gently misted with a disinfectant.

​

I never felt at risk for a moment. And while I was safe in South Korea, my family and friends in the States were living in a state of panic, exposed to this disgusting virus. South Koreans were now suspicious of me and other American travelers — still respectful, but cautious.

I went to lunch with another American wife of a player on the team. Next to us was a clean, empty table. The restaurant was full. There was a line to get in. But many patrons continued refusing the available table next to us. They’d rather wait longer than sit by the Americans. It was hard to even be offended given the statistics at the time.