Preface
In May 2020, I had the good fortune to take part in FACE2020, a Toronto photography exhibition about the pandemic. One of its projects involved gathering the experiences and thoughts of friends around us, then editing them into an audio archive. Unfortunately, because space was limited, only a selection of edited recordings could ultimately be included.
To make up for that omission—and to thank my friends for their support—I decided to present every audio clip I collected here, complete, unedited, and without commentary, so their objectivity and authenticity could be preserved.
Because there are so many recordings, I have divided them into two parts. This is Part Two, containing eight recordings. The link below leads to Part One:
Without further ado, click each waveform icon to hear these voices for yourself:
Original Recordings
Ms. C, photographer; Toronto, May 2020The evolution of human civilization has always been a history of struggling against epidemics and all manner of unforeseen crises. So I do not think an event like this is truly accidental, and there is no telling whether something even greater might happen in the future. What matters more, I think, is how we respond when an epidemic strikes: how we fight it together, endure it, and ultimately resolve it. All kinds of problems are bound to arise along the way. That seems quite normal to me.
As for the effect on my own life, I do not think it has been very great, since I spend most of my time at home anyway. What made the deepest impression on me happened just as the outbreak was becoming serious in Toronto. My rhinitis caused mucus to drain back into my throat, making it sore and giving me a persistent cough. I became a little nervous. I also get headaches fairly often, so the combination of headaches and coughing worried me—and worried my family in particular. I had hardly coughed like that in years, so when it suddenly began, I panicked. It was not really illness itself that frightened me. I believed I could probably weather an ordinary illness. Even if I had contracted COVID, I thought there would be ways to keep it from becoming severe or fatal. But while I was wondering whether I had it, my greatest concern was my family. Most of the time, it was just my father, my child, and me here. My father could not drive or speak the language, and he had few friends nearby. My child was still too young to cope with things alone. If something happened to me, the whole household might fall into chaos. Who would look after them? They would be worried about me too, and how would they deal with it all? That was what truly frightened me. In that moment, I suddenly realized how much responsibility rested on my shoulders. For the sake of the elderly and the young, I had to take care of myself and keep the household running. At a time like this, I simply could not let anything happen to me.
As a photographer with a sense of social responsibility, I felt that I ought to go out and take pictures. Perhaps somewhere deep inside I have always harbored the impulse to be a war correspondent—to document scenes from a moment like this. As a photographer, leaving behind some record for human civilization would itself be a contribution. But once I found myself in this situation, I realized how heavy the emotional burden was: for my family’s sake, I had to keep myself safe.
Mr. L, automobile dealer; Oakville, May 2020Living through this pandemic has taught me to let go of many things. For the rest of my life, I do not want to argue with anyone. Even if you tell me that one plus one equals seven, I will simply smile and move on. The year has barely begun, yet it feels as though the whole world is reminding us to cherish what we have. We always assume there will be plenty of time, forgetting how unpredictable the world is and how brief life can be. One virus has completely transformed the way people think. We have discovered that our greatest competitive advantage is not education, talent, or wealth, but immunity. This pandemic has taught us humility in the face of forces greater than ourselves, and what it means to enjoy ordinary days of peace. Nothing matters more than being alive and well.
Ms. T, healthcare worker; Toronto, May 2020I will briefly describe how the rhythm of my life as a hospital nurse has changed since the pandemic began.
A sudden epidemic changed everyone’s life. Bustling places fell quiet; noise gave way to emptiness. Apart from those of us working on the front lines, most people had to stay home and go out less to avoid infection. To protect myself and those around me from the virus, I had to reorganize every part of my daily routine—what I wore and ate, how I lived, and how I traveled.
This year, I have saved the most money on clothes and cosmetics. At home, one set of pajamas or loungewear is enough. Where would I wear beautiful new clothes? There is no need for makeup when I do go out; however lovely it looks, it is hidden behind a mask. I have truly cut back on a great many luxuries. At the hospital, I need two sets of scrubs every day. I wear one set to work in the morning and change into a clean set before going home. The thing I do most often at work is wash my hands. I have never counted, but I imagine it must be hundreds of times. My once-delicate hands now look ten years older than my face.
During the pandemic, masks have played the leading role. At first, the hospital issued two masks to each person every day, and they were quite good—genuine Level 3 masks, just one level below N95s, with fairly reliable protection. But as supplies grew scarce, the masks we received became thinner and thinner, and we no longer knew whether they had any rating at all. Wearing them did not inspire much confidence, so we put KN95 masks donated by friends and members of the community underneath the hospital-issued ones. An extra layer of protection was better than going into battle barefaced.
To fight on the front lines, you need a strong constitution. Since the general population is susceptible to COVID-19, if you do encounter the virus, everything comes down to your own resistance. That means we must get adequate nutrition. But with the staff lounges closed and masks too risky to remove often, staying properly nourished has become a challenge. Usually, I eat a good breakfast at home before work and have only one meal during my eight-hour shift. I make sure it contains plenty of protein, vitamin C, and similar nutrients. I also need to drink lots of water. There may be only one or two opportunities to take off my mask during those eight hours, so when one comes, I gulp down bottle after bottle. It is not very comfortable, but I have to keep from becoming dehydrated. The hospital cafeteria remains open, but it is busy and crowded, and sometimes we see patients eating there, so we do not dare take the risk. Occasionally, we set up tables and chairs in a corridor and sit at least two metres apart from our colleagues. It really does look like an old imperial examination hall.
When I get home, I still have to keep some distance from my family. After cleaning up, I stay in my own room as much as possible. We eat in two shifts: they eat first and return to their rooms, then I come downstairs for my meal. Afterward, I try to sleep for a while and recover my strength. Wearing a mask for eight hours leaves my brain feeling starved of oxygen. With a mask, goggles, and face shield all strapped around my head, the pressure makes me dizzy. I have to give my body a chance to recharge.
When it comes to going out, we have designated one of our two cars contaminated and the other clean. Only I am allowed to use the car I drive to work. We take the other one when we need to run errands or buy groceries. At a time like this, public transit must be avoided. The first confirmed case in our department was a patient who took the bus to and from his daily dialysis appointments. After his diagnosis, his condition deteriorated rapidly. Sadly, he has since passed away.
Although fighting the pandemic has left us physically and emotionally exhausted, the support and care arriving from every direction have offered us some comfort. Restrictions are gradually being lifted, and people are growing weary of social distancing and becoming less cautious. We must not let down our guard now. I hope the pandemic ends soon and life returns to normal. Let us keep going together through 2020!
Mr. L, IT professional; Toronto, May 2020Well, let me say a few words. This coronavirus is terribly cunning, and the impact of the pandemic is unlike anything we have ever seen. Take being shut up at home: it has been nine weeks. Who has ever experienced that before? But I will mention one unexpected benefit. After nine weeks at home, something interesting happened: the hay fever I normally suffer from disappeared this year. It used to be so severe that medication no longer worked, and I was even beginning to wheeze. So every April or May, I would go away on a cruise to escape it. This year, after nine weeks indoors, I suddenly realized that my symptoms were gone. Cruises are no longer an option, of course, but staying home and not going outside turns out to be quite a good way to avoid pollen. All right, that is all I wanted to say. Bye-bye.
Mr. D, university lecturer; Winnipeg, May 2020The COVID-19 pandemic has prompted all kinds of reflection. One question I have been considering is the relationship between the severity of an outbreak and population density. In North America, the connection appears fairly evident. In the United States, the hardest-hit places on the East and West Coasts were New York and Los Angeles, both world-famous megacities. In Canada, the outbreak was especially severe in Montreal, Toronto, Vancouver, and Calgary. These too are large cities by Canadian standards and popular destinations for both Canadians and new immigrants. Of course, many factors may contribute to a more severe outbreak in a major city, including extensive contact with people from around the world. Whatever the causes, the pattern is already there.
In the long term, we will have to coexist with the coronavirus for quite some time. Even after a vaccine is developed, it may prove similar to influenza and never be eradicated completely. If we must continue taking emergency precautions such as social distancing, then maintaining that distance will certainly be much easier in smaller and midsized cities than in major ones. As far as I know, the restrictions in big cities are already much stricter. Friends and former classmates in Toronto tell me they more or less have to hole up at home and cannot go out casually. Here in this midsized city, apart from having to work from home and the closure of many businesses, I have not felt especially inconvenienced. I can still go outside. All the parks—provincial and municipal—remain open. This slowdown has given me plenty of opportunities to enjoy nature. I am grateful for that, and keeping my distance is much easier here. In fact, since the pandemic began, I have not worn a mask even once.
I have never felt that I belonged in a big city. Surrounded by streams of cars and crowds of people, I quickly lose patience. An environment like this—a smaller city—suits me better. Now, perhaps that choice no longer seems so unusual. Maybe COVID-19 is also a warning that the mass urbanization sweeping the world since the twentieth century may not serve humanity’s long-term interests. So I think I will stay where I am. As the old saying goes, a wise man does not stand beneath a dangerous wall. At the very least, I will not stand beneath a wall of people.
Mr. Y, computer engineer; Toronto, May 2020Hello, everyone. I am a computer engineer in Toronto, working from home during the pandemic. The biggest change in my life is that nearby friends have grown more distant, while faraway friends have drawn closer. I have had the chance to reconnect with former colleagues and friends and find out how they are doing. They have scattered far and wide, across four of the world’s five inhabited continents. I have heard many fascinating stories about starting businesses, along with many stories that ended quietly and uneventfully. All of them have brought back wonderful memories of my youth.
Ms. H, securities professional; Vancouver, May 2020The pandemic has left me with two strong impressions. The first is that pressure can become motivation and a crisis can become an opportunity. The processes at my workplace had always been extremely manual. We had to be in the office from nine to five, and many tasks could not be automated, so we never imagined that one day we might actually work from home. For years, we had repeatedly asked the technology department whether this or that task could be automated, but progress was very slow. Then the pandemic arrived. From the first possibility of a lockdown to the point when everyone was working entirely from home, we had only about three weeks to prepare. Yet somehow, we transformed a completely manual workflow into one in which we could communicate, process documents, and complete every procedure from home using computers and the internet. It was an enormous change. Without the pandemic, it might have taken us a very long time to automate the entire process. From that perspective, it greatly accelerated what I had originally…
The other realization is more personal. I think people have always seen me as extremely active and someone who loves going out and having fun. Every year, I would plan my vacation allowance down to the last day and use every bit of it for travel—short trips, long trips, journeys near and far. But when the pandemic came and all of us had to stay home, I discovered that I could actually be quite a homebody.
Ms. L, IT professional; Toronto, May 2020I would like to share a few thoughts about the pandemic. I have had many, but after this unprecedented crisis had gone on for so long, my greatest realization was the importance of learning to face hardship and to keep encouraging myself to remain resilient and optimistic when confronted with challenges. We should cherish what we have, including our friends and family, and seek out opportunities to learn new things, enrich our lives, and become better versions of ourselves.
As the renowned scholar and educator Hu Shih once said, when something bad happens, you have three choices: you can let it change you, let it destroy you, or let it make you stronger. This pandemic happens to be a precious opportunity for us to grow stronger, improve ourselves, and lead fuller lives.
Before the pandemic, my life was varied, fulfilling, and free. Besides working during the day, I took classes offered by my club and learned something new every day: belly dance, Chinese dance, Latin dance, samba, and pop dance. On weekends, I went skiing at Blue Mountain and Mont-Sainte-Anne, flying freely down the snowy slopes. It made me so happy. My work also occasionally took me on business trips around North America, and I loved traveling on my own as well—to Europe, or back to China to visit my parents. My whole life was full, colorful, and unfettered.
Then the pandemic came and threw all that variety and every rhythm of my life into disarray. Every activity stopped in an instant. I miss traveling so much. I miss the women at the club and our daily classes, where we learned new things and enjoyed one another’s company. I miss going out for tea and performing with them. I miss being able to spend time with my elderly parents when I returned to China: strolling through parks with them, looking at the flowers and greenery, breathing in floral scents, and listening to the birds; telling them about my life here, chatting about everyday things, sharing meals, and reliving the happiness of having the whole family together. But none of that was possible anymore. The stay-at-home order, the lockdown, and social distancing confined my entire world to my own house. The freedom I valued and longed for most had suddenly been taken hostage.
At first, especially during the first week or two, I found it very difficult to adjust. Bad news kept arriving from the outside world. Pessimism, fear, depression, anxiety, and irritability all descended at once, and I did not know what to do.
Fortunately, we live in the age of the internet. With the web, WeChat, YouTube, Netflix, and countless other resources, we could enrich our inner lives. During the pandemic, I watched opera, ballet, Cirque du Soleil, and more than twenty Broadway musicals—something I never could have done before. On YouTube, I learned to make many things I had never known how to cook: fried dough sticks, savory stuffed crepes, pizza with the children, and steamed buns made with yeast dough. I also exercised with the children every day and kept track of our progress. Because of the pandemic, our family could spend twenty-four hours a day together, come to understand one another better, and interact more closely. With all these resources available, we also had the opportunity to learn new things, enrich our lives, and improve ourselves.
So although the pandemic has affected me and everyone else, it has also given us an opportunity to reexamine and redefine ourselves, uncover new potential, and grow into renewed versions of ourselves.
Finally, I hope this pandemic ends soon. May everyone make it through this period safely and emerge healthy, happy, and in good spirits.