My least favorite part of flying is those ten to fifteen
minutes after the plane has landed when every passenger feels it’s completely
necessary to pop up out of their seat the second the wheels touch the ground,
pull their oversized suitcase out of the overhead compartment, injuring anyone
and everyone in their wingspan, and queue up despite the fact that it will inevitably
take the crew what feels like an eternity to open the airplane door. The way I feel during this joyous time
is the same way most of you probably felt while reading that last
sentence…mainly it’s hard to breathe.
Fortunately,
thanks to a pesky little epidemic lovingly referred to as the swine flu, I
avoided this experience upon arrival to Nanjing, China. Once we pulled into the gate, a flight
attendant informed us officials would be entering the plane to do physical
inspections, in search of any passengers with flu-like symptoms.
These
inspections involved a temperature reading unlike I had ever seen. The inspectors held what looked like an
Epi Pen to our necks or foreheads with gloved hands, and shown a red light on
the area, producing a large red dot, which apparently read our
temperature. They would scratch
notes on each person’s health form as we all sat anxiously in our seats feeling
a bit like Long Island residents desperately trying to get off the island in “I
Am Legend”.
Apparently
this temperature-taking tactic wasn’t quite thorough enough, because each
passenger had to pass through 2 more inspection stations once we left the
plane. One was equipped with a temperature-imaging
screen, which showed people as green and red blobs according to their body
heat. I was one of the unfortunate
red blobs.
“You
have fever,” an agent informed me, as she directed me to a curtained off area,
where I joined my fellow red blobs all donning medical masks. After a few agents squabbled over my
passport and health form, again scribbling more notes, one came over to me and
jabbed a thermometer into my armpit.
“Wait
five minutes,” she said. I looked
to the other people sitting near me.
Everyone looked nervous, and I wondered if they too were thinking to
themselves, “Ok, just stay calm.
If you get nervous, you’ll just raise your body temp.”
After
a while, they began to read the thermometers. Most people were sent on their way, but a few were sent to
another curtained area to be asked questions like “Have you been around farm
animals an excessive amount in the past seven days?” Apparently my body temp had dropped enough for me to no
longer be considered a threat because I was allowed to leave, although advised
to keep wearing my mask.
This
became difficult after leaving the door of the airport because I was blasted
with a wall of heat and humidity that immediately caused sweat to bead on the
area of my masked face. But I kept
it on long enough for one photo in front of the airport, commemorating my
welcome to Nanjing, China.