March 12, 2021.

March 2021 marks, for many, the anniversary of when the world as we knew it changed. The Canadian Ides of March could be traced to March 12, 2020 when the outbreak of COVID19 demanded leaders to ask their citizens, employers to request their staff, and schools to require parents and children to stay home. This was Canada’s first wave, Toronto’s first lockdown.

Having left Beijing in evacuation mode since January 26, 2020, our family had been waiting silently, for this stark moment to reach Canada. We were fortunately together, living in an apartment a pebble away from the CN Tower in Toronto, preparing for “our” imminent second wave.

As the reality that lockdown restrictions would last longer than Spring Break (and certainly COVID19 would not be gone by Easter) dawned upon citizens in Europe, the United States and Canada, some metaphors and stories related to life in space and how astronauts faced life in a small capsule and dealt with isolation and quarantines became somehow popular.

So, with some basics in the pantry like of Campbell’s mushroom soup, pasta, canned tuna (basic ingredients for a great comfort food like mac and cheese) and one 12 roll package of toilet paper, four of us were now in our own capsule. Our spaceship.

Back in 2006, recently married, my husband and I moved to Washington D.C. settling in a small apartment, walking distance from the National Air and Space Museum. When we finally visited this museum, I was giddy, like a little kid, when we were able to see the lunar module that have brought the crew of Apollo 11 back from the moon. “How can two or three men fit on this module to make their way back to Earth?”, I wondered. Equally puzzled, but definitely not equally elated, I wondered how we were  going to thrive through remote work, figuring out how to close our home in China , while online schooling two girls (third grade and kindergarten).

One of our finest and lightest moments was inspired by Space X Falcon 9 carrying two astronauts to space on what promises a new potential model for space exploration. This event, being one of the only positive developments in the media at the time, motivated us to craft an international space station with recyclable materials (a milk carton, bubble wrap and some rolls from – you guessed it – toilet paper). Our space station was christened  “ The Pink Milkshake”, and it carried valuable lessons about recycling, creativity, and science， empowering a 5 year old to think that she was the first girl to set foot on the Moon. I digress…

I had used the metaphor of the spaceship with the children before, during a summer break when I travelled from Beijing to Canada and stayed in a minuscule Air BnB – close enough to walk to a local pool for a swimming camp. I told the girls we were a team, in a spaceship, where everyone had responsibilities and a chance to have fun, but that we had to always keep our spaceship clean, in order, functioning.

This time though, The Spaceship was neither a fun ride nor a STEM experiment. We were to huddle in the apartment and sit tight, for our safety and for the well-being of our loved ones. For 13 months facing the COVID19 pandemic, we stuck to our immediate bubble. Our ship made space for office, school, and occasionally the bathroom transformed into a hair salon, and a spa. We celebrated birthdays, end of school year, retirements, and other meaningful occasions reaching out to family and friends on Zoom. We were spoiled with specially-made birthday cakes or cupcakes that lifted our spirits like baking powder magic.

But to be clear, there were meltdowns. Every three months in average, the air felt heavy with uncertainty. With no end in sight of the situation that threw us into limbo, there were tears, fear, frustration.

To ease the navigation, I reached out to friends in China and requested “happiness boxes” with personal belongings that gave us immense joy: a knitted baby blanket, books and journals, a plush toy that had been predestined for the donation bin, but found its way instead to The Spaceship. We then got a grasp of a routine, with in-person school through the fall, working from home, zooming and crashing on the weekends out of exhaustion from too much screen time and too little exercise.

Imagine now that you are watching Alfonso Cuaron’s movie “Gravity”. The main character has gained some confidence to navigate and operate with the systems she has available – when a dramatic change takes place – and she is left alone – her partner having been engulfed by the dark immensity of outer space. 

Shortly after my husband was finally allowed to go back to China to recover what did not fit in two suitcases when we left Beijing, I received an email (around Halloween time)  alerting us that we had been exposed to someone who had tested COVID19 positive. It was a frantic and sleepless Friday night – scheduling and later having tests that later confirmed we were safe. False alarm. Reset.

With falling temperatures, the count in COVID19 cases increased, as did the anxiety and anticipation in The Spaceship.  The brain went into survival mode – and I was constantly exercising new routines of positive thinking as if I were training for a marathon. Instead of weight training, yoga and mediation gave me space and grounding.

Boxing Day came along with our best Christmas present: my husband back from China. Being together again, our family quarantined and embraced our third round of lockdown and second round of online schooling. Fatigue was real though, and we felt our Spaceship orbiting around what seemed the same loop over and over.

By mid-January, things took a positive turn. Following our quarantine, with certainty for a path ahead, grateful for being healthy and employed- we found a place with a huge back yard.

386 days is the count of our sojourn in The Spaceship. I will remember it as a place where we huddled for protection and from which we left with resilience (and some happiness boxes).

When I closed the door of our temporary apartment for the last time, I thought of that last scene in Gravity when Sandra Bullock steps out of her modular capsule back on Earth. Like in that scene, our steps into a new beginning after these months facing a pandemic do not come without shock. Her first step back  on Earth comes  after that first deep breath, an uttered “thank you”, her fist holding sand as if she is holding for dear life. I feel we can all relate to that moment, looking  forward to take that first step to something new, clinging to life.

Well, ground control, we too are leaving The Spaceship. I am not sure if we are heading to an International Station for refuelling or on into a post COVID19 new planet. But we are taking our steps into a new beginning. 

“The stars look very different today”.  David Bowie. Space Oddity.