03-17-2020, 11:53 AM
It had been almost three years since Christiaan had spoken to his family. He assumed they were dead by now. After all, most of the people he had formed relationships with over his 20 years of life had died – nannies, childhood friends, teachers, coaches, doctors, high school friends. All dead. He was one of the lucky few that had survived.
Christiaan, or Chris, as most of his loved ones called him was born in The Netherlands but raised in Washington, DC. His father worked at the Dutch embassy. His mother was a teacher at one of the international schools in town. Chris lead a privileged life. He spoke four languages fluently. He had a diverse friend circle and was exposed to different cultures from an early age thanks to his father’s work as a diplomat. Chris loved to travel and his travels were highly encouraged by his parents.
Chris never thought that his love of travel would be the reason he would never see his family again. He was on a school-sponsored trip in Costa Rica when the hysteria hit. Governments began restricting travel and closing borders. Being diplomats, his parents and sister were quickly evacuated back to Europe. However, despite his father’s efforts to get him out of Costa Rica, the government refused to cooperate – shutting their borders completely.
“I’m still trying to get you out; I love you, son.” That was the last he heard from his father; from any member of his family for that matter. That was three months into the pandemic. Internet, radio, television and phone service had become spotty. Basic infrastructure was no longer being maintained. So, there had been no way for Chris to confirm whether or not his family was still alive. All he could do was wait and hope for the best.
Chris spent nearly eight months in Costa Rica until he was evacuated to the United States. There had been a global effort lead by the World Health Organization to send all of the healthy people to live in the U.S. Although Chris was thankful to be home, he returned to complete chaos. The country he remembered no longer existed.
To occupy his time and keep his sanity, Chris volunteered as a translator to help resettle people. In addition to knowing Dutch, French and German, Chris picked up Spanish in Costa Rica. So, his skills were highly needed. Money was no longer of any value. Bartering had become the norm. To ‘thank’ Chris for his services, many families offered him food, clothing and other goods. This is how Chris had survived the past three years.
***
Chris was wrapping up a long 12-hour day in one of the resettlement camps when a woman approached him hysterically crying. She had two toddlers in tow. It was very rare to see children under the age of three. Since the pandemic, most of the women had died. The women that survived either couldn’t get pregnant or didn’t want to bring children into this new and scary world.
Chris immediately recognized the language the woman was speaking as Russian. He knew a few sayings in Russian, but there was no way he would be able to effectively communicate to this woman.
“Anyone speak Russian!?” He shouted. No one answered him. “Come.” He said to the woman, extending his hand out and gesturing for her to follow him. Chris remembered a place in the camp where he had seen some eastern Europeans. Perhaps there would be someone there who could speak Russian.
Christiaan, or Chris, as most of his loved ones called him was born in The Netherlands but raised in Washington, DC. His father worked at the Dutch embassy. His mother was a teacher at one of the international schools in town. Chris lead a privileged life. He spoke four languages fluently. He had a diverse friend circle and was exposed to different cultures from an early age thanks to his father’s work as a diplomat. Chris loved to travel and his travels were highly encouraged by his parents.
Chris never thought that his love of travel would be the reason he would never see his family again. He was on a school-sponsored trip in Costa Rica when the hysteria hit. Governments began restricting travel and closing borders. Being diplomats, his parents and sister were quickly evacuated back to Europe. However, despite his father’s efforts to get him out of Costa Rica, the government refused to cooperate – shutting their borders completely.
“I’m still trying to get you out; I love you, son.” That was the last he heard from his father; from any member of his family for that matter. That was three months into the pandemic. Internet, radio, television and phone service had become spotty. Basic infrastructure was no longer being maintained. So, there had been no way for Chris to confirm whether or not his family was still alive. All he could do was wait and hope for the best.
Chris spent nearly eight months in Costa Rica until he was evacuated to the United States. There had been a global effort lead by the World Health Organization to send all of the healthy people to live in the U.S. Although Chris was thankful to be home, he returned to complete chaos. The country he remembered no longer existed.
To occupy his time and keep his sanity, Chris volunteered as a translator to help resettle people. In addition to knowing Dutch, French and German, Chris picked up Spanish in Costa Rica. So, his skills were highly needed. Money was no longer of any value. Bartering had become the norm. To ‘thank’ Chris for his services, many families offered him food, clothing and other goods. This is how Chris had survived the past three years.
***
Chris was wrapping up a long 12-hour day in one of the resettlement camps when a woman approached him hysterically crying. She had two toddlers in tow. It was very rare to see children under the age of three. Since the pandemic, most of the women had died. The women that survived either couldn’t get pregnant or didn’t want to bring children into this new and scary world.
Chris immediately recognized the language the woman was speaking as Russian. He knew a few sayings in Russian, but there was no way he would be able to effectively communicate to this woman.
“Anyone speak Russian!?” He shouted. No one answered him. “Come.” He said to the woman, extending his hand out and gesturing for her to follow him. Chris remembered a place in the camp where he had seen some eastern Europeans. Perhaps there would be someone there who could speak Russian.