︎ Chanida Phaengdara Potter
Mother & Storyteller
Minneapolis, Minnesota, U.S.
translated by Peng Wu
Flight Back into the Unknown
The other day, I was asked about the moment I felt the pandemic was actually real-- when I finally felt things were serious. I describe it like the soul leaving the body.
We had been in Southeast Asia, specifically Laos where my roots begin, since November of 2019. It’s been a regular trip I plan every couple of years for work and family. The original plan was to stay through March 2020. My daughter enrolled in the international school. I made my way through Thailand, Vietnam, Malaysia, Burma up until the end of February. We were supposed to take the last flight out of South Korea. But then South Korea had its latest breakout.
There are lessons learned here. Having masks is nothing new in this region but the moment I knew I had to leave with my family in Laos was when the US embassy sent a message that borders were closing and we only had 72 hours to leave on the last plane out. My anxiety level skyrocketed. I was already an American at the age of 3 on American soil but the moment we had to rush to a plane, I felt my parents fast-moving feet; as if the war never ended. Mind you, my husband left right before Christmas in December but my children and I weren’t alone in scrambling to leave.
Somehow we made it back to the stateside but horribly sick in all the ways possible during a season of the unknown. I had a cold. My mother’s throat was sore. My husband was bedridden with nausea. My kids were in a daze of congestion and sniffles. You believe it to be something but not anything you can understand. Minnesota was just getting used to what this pandemic was capable of. We practically flew into quarantine-- just a few days before the Governor declared a stay at home order and CDC and WHO called it a pandemic.
Spring withered but it’s more than any of us can handle. It’s August and the leaves are changing to yellow, orange, and red-- to remind us that we're not alone. Its impermanence is everything and nothing.
Hope dies last.
︎ 查尼达•范达拉•波特
说故事的人和一个母亲
明尼阿波利斯，明尼苏达 美国
飞向未知
前几天，有人问起我新冠全球大流行终于感到真正发生了的时刻-当我终于觉得事情无比严重的时刻。我形容这个瞬间简直就像灵魂离开身体一样。
自2019年11月起，我们就来到了东南亚，我的家乡老挝。因为工作和家庭的原因，我计划每两年进行一次旅行。最初的计划是到2020年3月为止。我的女儿就读于国际学校。我一直走到泰国，越南，马来西亚，缅甸，一直到2月底。我们本该乘坐最后一班飞机离开韩国。但是后来韩国疫情突发。
我们必须学到教训。在这个地区戴口罩并不是什么新鲜事，但是当我知道我必须与家人一起离开老挝的时刻是美国大使馆发出一条消息，说国境马上就要关闭，我们只有72个小时可以乘最后一班飞机离开。我的焦虑情绪急剧增加。我3岁时就已经入籍了美国，但就在我们不得不赶上飞机的那一刻，我感到我父母的脚步飞快。就好像战争从未结束（译者注：许多老挝人在越战快结束跟随美军逃离老挝来到美国）。值得一提的是，我的丈夫在十二月圣诞节前离开，但我和我的孩子并没着急着回国。
一路辗转回到了美国，但一路上因为各种未知原因病得厉害。我伤风感冒了。我母亲的喉咙很痛。我丈夫卧床不起一直呕吐。我的孩子们不停打喷嚏。您只能猜测原因但永远不确定答案。明尼苏达州刚刚开始调整来应对新冠流行病。实际上，我们算是乘飞机飞进了隔离区-刚落地没几天明尼苏达州长宣布了居家令，同时美国疾病预防控制中心和世界卫生组织宣布新冠大流行。
春天枯萎了。新冠超出了我们所有人的承受能力。现在是八月，树叶变成黄色，橙色和红色-提醒我们并不孤单。世事的无常从来无处不在。
但我们永远不能放弃。