Feng and Mark’s flight back to Canada was at 10 p.m. so they were leaving around 6 p.m.
My own flight to the other side of Brazil was the next morning at 10:30 a.m., so leaving at 8 a.m.
We basically had a day to kill in São Paulo. We were all feeling anxious and sad.
Feng and Mark went to see a movie at noon—remember movie theatres?—and I headed out at the same time hoping for a long, relaxing walk.
But it was raining in São Paulo and it just wouldn’t stop. In fact, the weather was apocalyptic—dark, wet, windy, and more. I ended up walking around Avenida Paulista and I showed up at the mall just when the movie ended to surprise the guys. Good timing on this one.
We walked back to the hotel together and I used the gym—remember gyms?—to let Feng pack in peace. I came back just in time for the usual “want it?” routine and ended up with Feng’s Advil, enough hand sanitizer to bathe myself in as well as two unused Ziploc bags.
At 6 p.m. we went downstairs and stopped the first taxi we saw. We loaded the bags into the trunk.
“I have the feeling you’re gonna be okay,” Feng whispered, hugging me.
We kissed.
The hotel receptionists were watching the scene completely puzzled.
“Mark, come say ‘bye’ to mommy!”
We’re not a sentimental bunch. Mark was already opening the taxi’s door. “Take it easy mommy, call me, alright?”
The taxi drove away and I walk up the street because the key is to never wave back or look back but move on.
Except I couldn’t go very far—remember the rain?—so I just grabbed a cup of coffee at the Livraria Cultura on Avenida Paulista and came back to the hotel ten minutes later holding a tiny cup of strong café carioca, puzzling the receptionists even more.
I called my mom and chatted while browsing the folder of selfies Feng had given the night before.
The situation sucks in France. There’s now a nationwide 6 p.m. curfew which means that even essential stores close at 5:30 p.m. But my mom is working and she can’t be home before 6 p.m. so she has no idea how she can shop for groceries for her and mostly for my grandmother who doesn’t leave the house. We were trying to find solutions and it was getting late considering my plan was to pack and relax when suddenly, I received an email.
“Hold on, it’s Feng from the airport.”
I had told him to email me using the airport’s free Wi-Fi to confirm everything was fine. With a snowstorm in Ottawa and the whole COVID madness, his flight could have been delayed.
“Test no accepted
Air Canada didn’t accept my text. Need real pcr test What todo? Skype not working”
“Oh shit! Feng is being denied boarding! Hold on.”
“I’m here,” I typed. “Come back to the hotel? Do they offer a solution?”
I’ll spare you the back and forth. Basically, Feng could get tested again at the airport but results would take a while, so he was definitely not flying to Canada that night. He could rebook for a later date, whatever, not Air Canada’s problem.
“I could travel longer and come with you,” he wrote. “I don’t want to ruin your trip!”
“Come with me! You’re not ruining anything, I love you guys, please come, we’ll sort it out.”
And then I lost my Internet connection. It doesn’t happen that often in Brazil, Brazilians are super connected, but it was stormy in São Paulo. I waited for ten minutes, then fifteen, then I asked the reception. “It’s down everywhere in this area,” the guy explained. “I’m on the phone with tech support.”
I went back to our apartment, my apartment now with Mark’s sofa bed still smelling of Mark and Feng’s side of the bed still smelling of Feng, and I waited, pacing the living room.
You can’t do shit when it rains and you have no Internet connection. I was afraid to go out before Feng and Mark could be back any minute and they didn’t have the key.
An hour passed. Two hours.
11 p.m.
“GRU”—São Paulo’s international airport is far—but the guys should have been back by now. I was getting scared. Feng and I accept COVID measures and restrictions—testing, isolating, etc.—but we draw the line at spending two weeks in a federal quarantine centre. Fuck that, I’m not going to jail for two weeks, especially not with a negative test. I was starting to have the irrational fear that Feng and Mark had been locked up.
I went back to the reception and inquired about the Internet connection issue once again, then I explained the whole drama. The guy was nice, he called a friend, also a receptionist in another hotel, and told me to I could check my emails over there.
I grabbed my phone and ran a few blocks to the hotel. I connected to the Wi-Fi and read all the emails from Feng I had missed. “Gotta wait until 9:30 p.m. to rebook,” “I think I’ll just get the next available flight, I’m afraid Canada won’t let us go back in later,” “I’m not sure now. We should just book the next flight home.”
I started crying in the lobby. I wanted Feng and Mark to travel longer with me. It wasn’t going to happen.
I walked back to the hotel and just then, a taxi stopped in front of it. He had to be Feng and Mark.
It was. I hugged them, still crying.
“Let’s talk upstairs.”
I already knew Feng had booked the next available flight—two days later, actually. I wasn’t mad at him, I get it. It’s a shitty situation. He didn’t want to come back to Canada where there’s a stay-at-home order, winter and economic recovery is wishful thinking. But there’s Mark’s school, now fully online and taking attendance. And yes, coming back to Canada later may be difficult—I’m aware of it, this is a dilemma for me as well but I can’t do winter in Canada with COVID and no work.
There’s no safe place anymore.
“I’m so frustrated right now! If only Internet had been working… we could have talked about it, I may have been able to convince you to stay…” I said, crying.
Maybe. Maybe not.
Feng and Mark had taken the exact same COVID test—i.e. the nose swab—at the airport. Results would be available in the morning. No idea why their COVID test wasn’t accepted and several passengers had been denied boarding as well.
“I haven’t touched anything in the apartment… there’s still food in the fridge. Shit, it’s past midnight, I have to pack, I’m leaving at 8 a.m.….”
“Good thing you stayed an extra day in São Paulo otherwise we would have been stuck at the airport without any hotel room.”
We barely slept. At 7:30 a.m., we repeated the leaving scene, except this time we hauled my backpack downstairs and I took the taxi to the airport.
Feng and Mark would spend two more days in São Paulo as I was heading to Natal.
What a harrowing night! I hope you were eventually able to catch up on sleep, and give your heart some space to recover.