Two worlds apart -- Quiet vs lively

Commentary by Swallow Xu*       

Pablo Neruda’s poetic lines, “I like you when you are quiet because it is as though you are absent…”, hit me when I was walking in a dead quiet street at night in a Zhuhai neighbourhood with a lot of tutorial centres, all of which used to keep their doors open so that passers-by could see the schoolchildren inside, doing homework or taking courses in piano, guzheng (Chinese zither), and even chess. Music flew in the air while many lovely kids and their teachers interacted… all very lively.

But now silence reigned. Cold wind brushed all the shuttered shop fronts. I was the only person wearing a facemask in this now no-man’s world. I might like the quietness, but I did miss the city’s energetic spirit that was now absent.

Day by day more and more people go out overcoming novel coronavirus agoraphobia, as Macau’s anti-virus measures have effectively contained the outbreak.  Tourist attractions – most obviously the St. Paul’s Ruins and its surroundings – are empty. But banks, government outlets, supermarkets and some popular cafes are somewhat crowded. Almost all businesses have reopened, except those with a heavy reliance on tourists.

Roads are packed with cars, with numerous pedestrians walking on sidewalks. Most office and residential buildings no longer implement temperature checks. Macau residents look like they are getting their life back on track and the city is almost returning to its usual hustle and bustle. Full of life. Unlike some other cities fighting the pandemic, Macau is blessed!

Just a stone’s throw across the border, in Zhuhai, it’s a completely different world! You can’t see traffic, nor people on its boulevards. Very few stores are open (except wet markets, supermarkets and groceries) and eateries (except for the few serving take-outs, as dining-in is not allowed by the government).

Just adjacent to the Gongbei border checkpoint, the once buzzing, busy, underground shopping mall, Zhuhai Port Plaza, with all kinds of businesses including pedicure and massage parlours, boutiques and Taobao pick-up services (targeting Macau clients), is virtually a ghost venue.  Mainland Chinese WeChatters have ridiculed the situation by describing the vacated wide urban roads between tall buildings urban valleys. People in Zhuhai still have to take a shot by a thermometer gun before entering both public spaces and residential buildings.  And no outsiders are allowed into residential buildings, even if you are a flat owner or tenant’s friend or a relative visiting! Zhuhai and its people are containing the novel coronavirus at a much higher cost.

The other day, rushing up to a notary office before it closed, I braved myself to share the lift space with a white westerner who wore no facemask but still looked composed. This week, when I, facemask-less, walked out of a McDonalds realizing I had lost my facemask after tea with a friend, I felt so embarrassed. People looked at me; the security guy at Sasa did not allow me to enter even when I told him I wanted/needed to buy a facemask. Thanks to a woman’s help, I bought one and got myself back.

On TV news President Xi Jinping and many of the nation’s other top officials were seen wearing a facemasks. Mainlanders have been scratching their heads, buying facemasks by all means – and often in vain, and some have to use one for 10 days, and they are envious of Macau residents’ fuli (benefits): we in Macau can have the luxury of having one facemask a day. You never see Trump or his officials (including health officials and workers who showed up in public) wearing a facemask. They told the American people not to wear facemasks and they have so far followed the advice. In general, as a rule of thumb, far less Westerners outside China wear facemasks, while Easterners (Chinese, Japanese and Koreans) do.  Is it due to cultural difference? We may explore the matter later on.

*The author is a Macau-based translator and travel writer