By Todd A. Henry

Professor at University of California, San Diego

When I left Seoul in early January 2020 after a year on sabbatical, who would have known how much our world would change as a result of COVID-19? Before arriving in the U.S., I had heard about what the Korean media had been calling the "Wuhan flu." Like many poorly informed people, I, too, thought that the outbreak would be limited. A privileged white American man with private health insurance, I had yet to experience firsthand a public health crisis. When I returned to work at the University of California, San Diego, where I serve as a professor of Korean history, Donald J. Trump was hopelessly externalizing what quickly became a pandemic of global proportions. Worse yet, he worked to politicize the virus, repeatedly referring to it as a “Chinese disease,” while failing to keep residents of the U.S. safe. Fearful of reelection defeat and seeking to appeal to his base, Trump continues to stoke preexisting sentiments of anti-Asian racism that, when viewed historically, trace their origin to the so-called Yellow Peril of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.

Meanwhile, a lack of political leadership enabled already tired residents of the U.S., many of whom had spent months sheltering in place, to reenter public life without protective gear. The outright refusal of many Americans to wear face masks (because they somehow infringe on their personal freedom) and a blatant disregard for social distancing, especially among young people, has, in turn, led to an uncontrollable health crisis. By August 15, more than 5.3 million people in the U.S. have been confirmed as COVID-positive, with more than 170,000 losing their lives. This tragedy has painfully demonstrated a deadly convergence of negligent national and local leadership, a callous disregard for collective campaigns, and a rapacious system of health insurance that increases the profits of the wealthy as much as it heals the immense suffering of the multitude.

As a tenure-track professor, I was extremely lucky to escape the U.S. in late June for a visiting position at Yonsei University. As of August 15, COVID-19 infections in what I call my second home remain at less than 16,000 and disease-related deaths at just over 300. Adjusting for population size, people living in the U.S. might have only experienced 100,000 infections and 2,000 deaths if they followed the pro-active leaders and dedicated citizens of Korea. COVID-19 has become a politicized issue in Korea, although to a far lesser degree than in the U.S. I have expressed my concern about the mass media's "outing" of people who, in May, visited a dance club in Itaewon, Seoul. In my view, the government's use of cell phone data to monitor surges places an unequal burden on sexual minorities, for whom privacy is essential to navigate homophobia. Divided opinions on the rights of religious groups to meet in large groups during the pandemic also reveals the degree to which COVID-19 has become politicized in Korea. On Liberation Day (August 15), scores of believers gathered in the Gwanghwamun area of downtown Seoul, leading to the nation's largest outbreak since March. An insistence on congregating has, in turn, stoked fears that some Christians continue to spread this highly contagious disease among health-conscious residents.

Despite ongoing problems, I feel far more safe living in Korea than in the U.S. Most remarkable to me is how quickly and efficiently officials created the infrastructure necessary for residents who, for the most part, have dedicated themselves to the task of public health. I experienced government preparedness and civic dedication from the day I landed in Incheon on June 30. Since first arriving to Korea in 1998, I have visited the country many times. But never have I traveled wearing two face masks, plastic gloves, and protective eyewear. Nor have I been required to download tracking cell phone applications or fill out so much paperwork to enter Korea on a tourist visa. After passing immigration and customs, I was quickly sent to a hotel near the airport, where I spent two weeks at the Grand Hyatt Incheon. Some friends have decried the price (KRW 1.68 million) as exorbitant, but I disagree; the regular rate for a two-week stay here is at least KRW 2.28 million. More important was the care I received in quarantine. A dietician had carefully arranged my three daily meals, with vegetarian offerings an option. Before entering my room, I received a nose and throat swab for COVID-19, a test I could not even receive while living in San Diego. I received my negative result in less than 24 hours; tests in the U.S., by contrast, still take as long as 10 days, making contact tracing impossible.

Dedicated employees toiled day and night to provide these services to the many non-citizens under hotel quarantine. Although mobilized to work in this capacity as unemployed labor and likely underpaid as a result, they were extremely professional and kind and, above all, kept us safe. Several of them helped me visit the emergency room when, one day, I began to suffer from unexplained pains. Calling ahead so that I could occupy a special quarantine room, they arranged ambulance transportation to and from a university hospital. Luckily, my test results came back normal and I have been feeling better ever since. When health workers visited my room in the evening, they always inquired about my previous symptoms; the most I could do in return was to thank them and ask a few questions to show that I appreciated their care. I hope that the Korean government and fellow citizens will treat them with utmost respect and not forgot these dedicated people who kept me healthy and those around me safe. Someday soon, I hope to share with the American government and residents of the U.S. my rare experience of living in Korea during the COVID-19 pandemic. I hope to show them how dedicated officials and a civic-minded people have come together to respond to a public health crisis, sacrificing themselves for the benefit of others.

Todd A. Henry is associate professor of Korean/East Asian history and the inaugural director of Transnational Korean Studies at the University of California, San Diego. He is the author of Assimilating Seoul: Japanese Rule and The Politics of Public Space in Colonial Korea, 1910-1945 (University of California Press, 2014; Korean translation 2020/Sejong Book Prize Winner) and editor/author of Queer Korea (Duke University Press, 2020; Korean translation 2021). From September 2020, Dr. Henry will teach at Yonsei University's Underwood International College as a visiting professor for the University of California Education Abroad Program.