This past Monday, I boarded the last regularly scheduled flight leaving Morocco. The night before, the government announced that it would close all borders and prohibit transit in or out of the country effective immediately. Despite cancellations of spring break travel, study abroad in Vienna, and the Hamburg marathon all due to coronavirus, the overwhelming emotion I felt while traveling home was gratefulness.

Upon arriving at the airport 3 hours before departure, I saw the longest check-in line I have ever witnessed. Worried about whether the plane would still fly or not, I got in line and hoped for the best. Within minutes, the people behind me in line had struck up conversation, and the four of us found we had many shared interests. The lively chatter made waiting fly by, and before we knew it, we were at the front of the line. Just before checking in, a couple approached the woman behind me in line, and asked if she could take responsibility for their child during the flight. Apparently local regulations dictated that each child under the age of 2 needs to have one accompanying adult. Since they had triplets who are only 18 months old, one of their children was unaccounted for. Thankfully, they were eventually able to get the situation figured out and board the flight, despite the check in agent forbidding anyone else from signing for their third child.

While waiting to board, I managed to get the last raspberry tarte from a terminal bakery, and even happened to run into our pilot, who explained how lucky we were to be getting on this flight. The Moroccan government was originally not planning on letting it pass, but eventually they reached an agreement where it would come in empty, and all staff except for the main pilot would have to remain on the aircraft (despite this usually being against regulations). Needless to say, I was feeling quite appreciative of this hard journey the Air Canada team made without the usual amount of rest to help get all of us passengers home.

After boarding, I struck up a conversation with the person sitting next to me on the plane. He seemed nice enough, and eventually I relaxed and prepared for take off. Just then, the pilot announced that we were still missing three passengers, and would not be departing until they were on board. We waited 10, 20, 30 minutes, but they were still nowhere to be found. Eventually, the person next to me started grumbling, and called a flight attendant over. He asked her when we were going to be leaving, and said that if they were late then we shouldn't need to wait for them. I was quite taken aback! All the interactions I had that day so far only indicated the kindness of humans, yet here was someone who without a second thought was about to leave people behind. This especially struck a chord with me, as my travel partner did not manage to get a ticket for the flight, and was stranded in Morocco for an unknown amount of time (it ended up only being a few days, and he is now home safe). I explained to the man that this was the last flight out, and many more people were going to be stuck here with the borders shut, and so we should wait for anyone we can fit on the plane, regardless of how long it takes. He grumbled a bit, but explained he hadn't known it was the last flight and was more patient for the rest of the time we waited (1.5 hours total).

Following this encounter, I began to think about how relative our situations are, and how this impacts our expectations accordingly. If you are expecting a normally operated flight that leaves on time, and it gets delayed by an hour and a half, you will likely be upset, but if you are expecting to get stuck in a country for the foreseeable future, and you make it on a flight out, you will probably be much happier, regardless of how long it takes to depart. Currently, the world is in a state of chaos unprecedented in many people's lives. Freedom of movement, something so cherished by citizens of many countries, is restricted like never before. As of writing this, just over 250,000 people have the virus, and before this is over, some experts are predicting as much as 70% of the world's population could get the disease. Each of us is dealing with this new reality in our own way, and I can't pretend to know how it is affecting everyone.

However, if you are able to read this post, you probably have a lot to be grateful for. I'm by no means perfect at this myself, but all that matters is to keep trying. In times of crisis, there are many ways we can and should respond. For instance, trying to flatten the curve by limiting social contact and avoiding unnecessary movement outside the home. One of, if not the most important things we can do though, is to stay positive. Social isolation will be challenging for most of us, as will the uncertainty caused by the disease, let alone the physical virus itself. This challenge likely won't pass anytime soon, but if we can be grateful for whatever small victories we have as it progresses, that will make the time all the more bearable.

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Photo is the entrance to Tokyu Plaza Omotesando Harajuku.