4월27일 대구의료원 의료진이 대구에서 맨 처음 코로나19 확진 판정을 받았던 환자의 퇴원을 논의하고 있다. 대구의료원 제공
기사 원문
She must've been in her late teens or early twenties. Lying on her mother's lap, burning with fever. A worried look on both their faces as they waited to get tested along with dozens of people at Daegu Medical Centre's newly establised COVID-19 wing. It was Friday February 21st 2020. The Shincheonji outbreak had just been identified 2 days prior and since then things had unfurled out pretty fast: infection cases had skyrocketed from only 30 to more than 200, most of them in and around Daegu, and the first person had just died in South Korea because of the virus.Even in a country that has lived through many epidemics and holds fresh memories of ones such as MERS or SARS like Korea this meant a sudden new mindset, and I could feel that the moment I set foot on Daegu that morning. There wasn't any of the panic that we've seen in other places, though. From the taxi driver, to the medical officer, to the shopkeeper to the town official, they all showed, above all, some tremendous integrity and sense of duty that impressed me.Of course, there was also a general sense of unease, of worried uncertainty, for what was coming, and that young woman and her mother, who would'nt stop caressing her daughter's hair while they waited, seemed to be the clearest example. We knew so little about COVID-19 back then... And still now, more than three months later, there's so much we still have to learn from this terrible virus...All in all, it wasn't the semi empty streets of Daegu or the bottles of hand sanitizer placed at every corner or all those medical workers clad in protective gear. It was those the image of those two women that struck me the most. I soon realized it reminded me of some heartbreaking footage shot in Wuhan I had watched three weeks earlier. It showed a woman chasing an ambulance while crying "mom" repeatedly as her mother's body was being taken from the hospital to a crematorium without her being able to give a proper farewell.That scene had brought down the "fourth wall" for me, so to speak: at that point the coronavirus news story stopped being something happening on the other side of a screen, at a neighboring land, to "other people". Despite being such an intimate moment, the journalist recording it kept his camera rolling and thanks to that people like me, who were'nt there, could really empathize with a situation that up until that moment seemed to be mainly about big faceless numbers (infected, cured, deceased etc). It showed how tremendously cruel this virus can be, depriving us of even the chance to say goodbye to our beloved ones.Seeing both mother and daughter in Daegu immediately reminded me of all this and also certified how very real the high contagiousness rate of this virus was, making it a true global threat to our families, our friends, our collegues, our neighbours, our towns, our countries...When I came back to Seoul, the Government recommended that I go into partial isolation, just leaving my home to buy food or meds, as I had visited Daegu. During those 14 days, not only did I have the time to reflect on the coronavirus and its huge implications but I was also able to witness Korea's -both its people and authorities- amazing response to it.My experience in Daegu and my reporting about Korea's response to coronavirus might have actually saved my mom and dad's life back in Spain, and even my brother's, given how weak his immune system has always been. It took a very nasty Skype argument to finally make them realize that this wasn't the media "trying to scare people" and how they all neeeded to stay home for the coming weeks despite the fact that everybody around them was still taking the situation lightly.I've also felt truly lucky for being able to report in such detail on the "Trace, Test and Treat" system applied in Korea at a time where most of the world felt in the dark regarding the virus.It's ironical how in February the reaction of many people on social networks like Twitter, or even my close friends in Spain, was that of indifference when it came to talking about the spread of COVID-19 or the need to stay away from public places. To them it was still something that affected "other people in some other country".But fast forward three weeks and everybody was eager to know more about how Korea had managed to respond so well to this mean organism which had been able to completely shut down their entire countries and economies. By that point, they too, had realized how we're all together in this.Spain is one of the countries worst hit by COVID-19 and my hometown, Madrid, one of the regions with most deaths on its back. Some close friends have lost their parents and other relatives to the pandemic and now, after 10 weeks of intense lockdown, people there are going to start recovering something similar to normality. In coping with a reality where sporadic outbreaks will be the norm until a vaccine or cure is found, Korea too has much experience to share and I'll keep trying my best to convey all that know-how through my work as a reporter.I'd also like to meet that mom and daughter from Daegu again, and this time muster the courage to talk to them (I unlike, that reporter in Wuhan, didn't keep my camera rolling). I'd ask how they're doing and I'd show them the beatiful poem my journalist friend Kang Hae-ryun was inspired to write after I told her about the scene I witnessed at Daegu Medical Center. I'm sure the three of us would be feeling more at ease now, unlike February, and we'd probably share the belief that, at least for now, it looks like we're in good hands here in Korea. END
코로나 뉴노멀
2부 세 개의 시선
2장_외신기자가 본 K-방역1. 스페인 기자, 대구의료원에서 만난 모녀의 안부를 묻다2. 일본기자가 말하는 K방역 성공의 비밀3. 캐나다 기자, 전면 봉쇄없이 코로나 이겨내는 한국을 배우자