The bus driver, taking rather a doctor’s demeanour with his surgical facemask and apprehensive expression, turns to the traveller and points to a small step just right of the entrance, with a thin cushion resting upon it, “Sentarse aquí,” he says firmly. The traveller glances to the back of the bus and sees the large number of empty seats available, before noticing a mother and her toddler also wearing facemasks. The traveller felt slightly taken aback as she had only ever seen Asian tourists cover their faces in public, presumably so as not to spread the common cold, but this was different. The mother and bus driver carried their masks along with a preconceived fear that was fed by the scaremongering misinformation swathing across social media and consumed by the masses. As the traveller’s stare begins to grow uncomfortable, the mother sinks into her seat and hesitantly raises her hand to clasp her son’s mouth, thinking her fingers might somehow prevent the virus from penetrating through.

The solo female traveller’s stream of consciousness takes her to a conversation she had some months ago with a Canadian backpacker of Malaysian heritage. Back when the virus was an epidemic thought to be contained in China, he had received looks of disdain from locals who would take a wide berth from him as he walked passed. He would often pick up the words ‘Chino infectado’ and ‘Coronavirus’ from the not too distant murmurings. The spread of the virus was, to him, also a rapid catalyst that incited racism against all Asians and people of Asian backgrounds. Returning to the incident that had just played out in front of her, the backpacker comes to the realisation that the racism received by the Asian-looking Canadian in Latin America, and probably in the rest of the world save most Asian countries, is now relevant to Europeans and white people in general. A sense of poetic justice, and natural acceptance, comes to her mind, but she is nevertheless slightly apprehensive of what measures could unfold should the global pandemic reach unimaginably terrifying scales of chaos and destruction where millions of lives would be lost.

Nevertheless, she cannot help but feel that the provocative and sensationalist headlines on the front page of mainstream newspapers, such as one she read a day earlier with the title ‘I feel like a strange creature, says woman with Coronavirus’, are not favourable in dealing with the threat. Indeed, towards the end of the interview with the infected patient, a vulnerable elderly lady from Bogotá displaying minor symptoms, the relevant pulled quote was in response to what her family and friends thought of the whole ordeal, to which she replied, ‘the truth is, to them, I am like some sort of strange creature’. The traveller knows it is of little wonder as to why people are in a state of panic. As a writer herself, she understood well the importance of responsible reporting, especially in trying times, and she considered the article made it seem as if society is on the verge of some sort of zombie apocalypse.

The driver, who is now becoming impatient, barks the same demand, “Sentarse aqui, por favor.” His increasingly assertive tone jolts the traveller from the surreal moment that had captured her concentration. Never before had she felt discriminated against because of her skin tone, and she knew that a life absent of racial abuse was a privilege not shared by people of colour living in Western society. Nonetheless she felt shocked to be subjected to it. The traveller knew the reactions from the passengers and bus driver had surfaced because she was white and assumed to be a tourist from Europe who could have contracted the highly contagious disease. They felt anxious to allow her to walk past them and all preferred her to remain close to the exit. The traveller chooses to put an end to the uneasy situation by taking her hastily designated mini-quarantined seat and resumes examining her surroundings.

As the spluttering engine of the Guatemalan-style ‘Chicken Bus’, a spectacularly decorated retired North American school transport bursting with colour, struggles to kick into gear, two plumpish white seniors call out to the driver to wait for them. He directs them an acknowledging nod but his exasperated sigh is well audible, despite the mask. The couple begins to board the bus while incessantly jabbering to each other in French, causing the passengers to once again lift up their guard. The burly husband, unbalanced and wavering, leans over the traveller towards the front seat and produces two notes of ten thousand Colombian Pesos, just over four pounds sterling, which he follows with a distinctly francophone accent, “Cuanto?”.

TERRIFIED

The driver takes the money and points the couple to the front seat directly behind the traveller. The burly man, whom the traveller estimated to be close to his seventies, spins around to his wife standing meekly beside him and debates in French the possibility of sitting up front. Finally the couple decide to take a much more comfortable spot amongst the ample seating available at the other end and proceed to shuffle towards the back despite the driver’s protests, creating an almost Mexican wave effect on the terrified local passengers who all lean across to their windows, some practically doubled over and gasping for non-contaminated air outside.

The European couple take no notice of the scenario unfolding before their eyes and casually slide into their seats to continue their previous discussion on the terrible heat they must endure, and that such abrupt behaviour displayed by the driver would never be accepted in a developed country like their beloved France. A wry smile emerges from the traveller who had been following the news across the pond in Europe. She was well aware of the hysteria and confusion infesting the continent that had yet to reach a similar peak in Latin America. Furthermore, France had recently closed it borders and it was unlikely that the couple would be able to return home anytime soon, a fact that they are evidently blissfully unaware of but will consequently come as a shock for them in the following days.

Their conversation takes a semitone higher than the boisterous noise of the retro engine and fills the air around the clattering steel-framed bus. The Europeans became the strange creatures in the article that should be feared and quarantined for the sake of all humanity. The locals seem paralysed. The only movement the traveller observes is that of one man in his sixties who proceeds to extract a chewing gum from its wrapper before offering some to his neighbours. He takes a look opposite to the female backpacker who returns his gaze and, seemingly with the intention of breaking the surrounding stigma, extends his arm towards her, offering up his last one. Knowing full well what this meant, the backpacker accepts the gift with a warm smile, and to her surprise the refined gentleman makes the motion to retrieve the wrapper once she took the chewing gum, despite running her potentially germ-infested fingers all over it, “Gracias,” she expresses wholeheartedly. “A su servicio,” replies the senior gentleman. It was a wonderful gesture within the context of the circumstances. The man returns the smile, takes the wrapper, crumples it up and puts it in his pocket, never withdrawing his gentle eyes from hers in the process. There’s an understanding between them, that they will not allow their human decency to falter in the midst of desperation propagated by reckless and opportunistic media outlets. The exchange between the Colombian and the traveller is met with open-eyed expressions of astonishment mixed with a look of pity for the passenger sitting next to the man.

NERVOUSNESS

As the nervousness gripping the passengers shows signs of subsiding, the traveller snaps away from the moment to delve into her phone and review her location on her downloaded map of the area. She notices the natural monument that had brought her here is close and lifts her head to observe its majestic splendour. Halfway between the small towns of Guatapé and El Peñol lies the giant two hundred metre-high granite monolith known as El Peñón de Guatapé or La Piedra de El Peñol. The towns border one another and both stake a historical claim to its ownership, leading to a dual set of names for the imposing rock.

The traveller, heeding the warnings and following the advice distributed by the World Health Organisation on how to prevent infection from the virus, is moving towards an isolated hostel in the hills with a panoramic view of the rock. She is in her mid-twenties without any pre-existing conditions and is not so much worried about the effects the virus could have on her but rather on the potential collapse of social normality. Her experience on this bus ride reinforced those feelings. Colombia’s land and sea borders were now closed and soon the airports may follow suit. She had already taken the decision to ride it out in Colombia rather than returning home to the Gibraltar, but things could change in an uncertain future and perhaps leaving the country might soon become more complicated.

30-03-2020 PANORAMAdailyGIBRALTAR