Coronavirus and our Casablanca Command Center

      At 2pm, 23 of us were checked into Ryanair flight 3553, scheduled departure time 12:55pm. There was very little leading up to this. We confirmed our booking at 5:45am in the van from Casablanca to Marrakesh that morning after a buzzing 1am hotel conference room session. The previous evening our program director in the US prepared us to hunker down in Morocco until April 1 at the soonest. Rapid changes filled the week leading up to this, and our itinerary hit the fan from initially going to Peru on April 7, to potentially staying in Morocco for the remainder of the semester, to leaving asap. However, the Moroccan government suspended all international passenger flights faster than our asap departure. Also, with no warning.

      After the suspension, a few select airlines were permitted to fly for all the dimwits like us stuck in Morocco (I heard 3,000 US citizens but forget the source, plus loads of Europeans). In the meantime, our program director informed us that the EU mandated border closure and only permanent residents could get in, as well as a 14-day quarantine for all incoming passengers. Since any flight options out of Morocco involved an airport transfer and multiple bookings, it wasn’t possible to not get stuck in transit. Meanwhile, the situation wasn’t enough of an emergency for iSOS to charter a plane, nor the State Department. Well. Luckily another student’s parents travel agent did not hear our program director’s spiel about traveling through Europe and after communicating with travel agents and hearing from a few other university students who had been in Europe, the risk of getting stuck in transit seemed to actually be quite small. The biggest risk was being in four airports and potential exposure to the virus enroute home.

      We were 23 because while we were booking flights the previous night, Brown University students got a message that Brown had chartered an iSOS jet for their students. This turned into eight students from various ivy league schools enrolled in study abroad programs in Morocco flying on the jet to Heathrow. Two students had already left on their own, and one student didn’t want to take the health risks of all the transit. At this point too, our institution had mixed messages about accident and emergency insurance during travel if we booked our own travel.

      On Thursday we left trusty Hotel Diwan in Casablanca, first a quick digression is that the King was also in Casablanca and a bunch of royal police were staying at this hotel. So we parted ways with the royal police at 4:30am, took a celebratory gas station stop, and arrived at the airport in Marrakesh at 9:30am. Also took a short stop to print out booking confirmations for everyone, just in case we needed paper documentation. These confirmations barely even had our first names on them. Walking from the vans to the airport entrance, we huddled up in front of a closed door to be out of the way and regroup. Now, we thought we had a big break when an airport worker opened that door and we didn’t have to stand in the long line to get in the airport at the other doors. Jokes on us because it took 4½  hours to check in for the flight.

      This was the opposite of social distancing. First, we had to wait because we were too early to check in for our flight. But times were out the window as two people checked in each flight manually. Naturally, it took a while. Just after 10am Ryanair flight 3553 to Stansted got a check in counter! We were on it and in the front of the line. But, our confirmations did not have assigned seats and since check in was all manual, we had to wait for everyone else to check in so we could get assigned seats. Which never even happened. But we moved to the side and waited with many others in the same predicament. All our names were on the list, confirmed on the flight and we just had to wait it out. Over the next few hours things took a turn and the situation didn’t exactly bring out the best in people. Our group was fine, but others in line were yelling and some got ridiculously mad if they thought someone was cutting them in line. Without asking, I learned that some people had been waiting in the airport for days trying to go anywhere. At one point an airport worker walked around saying “10 seats to xxx” and people ran to the counter to get on the flight. I truly hope such airport conditions are never repeated. We all kept looking at each other and knowing that without the game time support from our Moroccan country staff, particularly Rayan who claimed the role as volunteer airport staff, well maybe we still would have navigated the chaos but that’s a hard maybe. It was actually quite humorous to watch others ask a tall guy in a suit, sunglasses, and face mask for instructions.

      Eventually we made it to the gate and boarded at 3:40pm. In true style, not without last minute drama of someone being sick in the bathroom as the flight started boarding. We got to the ticket counter, on the bus to the plane on the tarmac, and only knew there would be another bus or two for that person. And via text, we confirmed everyone was on the flight. Then, at 4:53pm we were definitively bound for London.

      Also turns out that those confirmation papers WERE BOARDING PASSES. At the counter the worker crossed my name off the paper list of all passengers and stamped my paper. At the gate they ripped it in half. Boarded.

      London was a breeze. Arrived in Stansted, took a bus to Heathrow and camped out in terminal 2 arrivals. Complete with a 24-hour cafe, chairs with armrests that outright restricted anything but sitting, chilly but manageable floors, and of course the 2am puker who strolled by our area. Upon arriving in Heathrow we got emails that the US State Department was chartering repatriation flights starting Friday March 20 on a first come first serve basis, and Moroccan airspace was officially closing on March 22. The one student that didn’t fly to Stansted got on a State Department flight after an attempt to get on Brown’s chartered jet, which arrived in Heathrow. Also got word that Morocco went into lockdown the day after we left. And with an email from Casablanca American Citizen Services yesterday, April 1 likely would’ve turned into April 20.

      Upon arriving at Boston Logan airport, each passenger submitted a health form reporting any travel to the Schengen Area, mainland China, and a few other countries in the last two weeks. The form also asked about experiencing a fever, cough, and trouble breathing in the last 24 hours. The health checker did not take my temperature. Every passenger was then ushered to a table to receive pamphlets and oral instructions from the CDC. To get through customs we had to show the CDC pamphlets.

      I am now home and due to being in four airports during that traveling saga, essentially treating myself as a carrier of coronavirus to protect my parents. Lack of available testing is key to this too. Today is day 5 of basement quarantine. A few notes to add, first that one student arrived home in Jamaica on the last day of open borders. Also, due to citizenship status and travel restrictions through Europe, one of our program staff, who travelled with us for the duration of the semester, is still in Morocco. Lastly, Friday evening I was tuckered out but my mom really wanted to spend some time outside on the front porch together. How could I resist? Then people showed up in our driveway. Turns out neighbors get together outside and sing, and they all came over to sing and welcome me home.

      The situation in Morocco escalated very rapidly. Last month our group was in Vietnam when the country was shut down, but it did not bear the emotional weight of coming home to my host mom in Rabat sitting on the couch, concerned and watching the tv broadcast news of a sudden country shutdown due to the coronavirus.

      On Monday last week when our flight was officially cancelled, Bobby and I began filming our group in Casablanca and one of these days I’ll make a silly video with the story of our time stuck in Morocco. For now, I am grateful to be home.