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| A woman wearing a face mask looks out at Gimpo International Airport on Jan. 31. Many Korean Chinese from Wuhan, a Chinese city which is believed to be the epicenter of the coronavirus as the first case was reported there, arrived in Seoul that day. Korea Times photo by Shim Hyun-chul |
By Kang Hyun-kyung
COVID-19 is a true game changer — the formidable virus has dictated the way we live. Mom-and-pop stores, small grocery stores and coffee shops have been pushed out of business one after another as wary consumers stopped dropping by and moved online to shop for daily products. People's social lives changed as they refrained from certain activities, deciding to forgo yoga, exercise and book clubs.
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| A COVID-19 patient is carried on a portable bed by three healthcare workers of a hospital in Seoul's western district of Yangcheon on March 9. Many coronavirus patients in serious conditions that day were found to be the residents of a nursing home based in North Gyeongsang Province. Korea Times photo by Choi Won-suk |
Participation in large gatherings has been viewed as reckless. Commuters are choosing to drive rather than take the bus or train, fearful of traveling using packed public transport which, in the worst-case scenario, could turn out to be a breeding ground for the virus. People waited in long lines in front of pharmacies to get face masks.
The scene is paradoxical: they were there to stay safe from the virus but the long queue made them vulnerable to infections. COVID-19 is tyrannical. Facing an acute shortages of face masks earlier in the pandemic, policymakers chose to go for arbitrary measures including the rationing of masks. Daily and weekly quotas were set for each person. The pandemic served as an excuse for limiting freedom of association.
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| A weary healthcare worker closing her eyes is captured at a clinic in Seoul's western district of Eunpyeong in this March 4 file photo. Korea Times photo by Choi Won-suk |
The virus stokes fear. People become suspicious when someone nearby coughs. Bus drivers yell at unmasked passengers for putting others in danger. "Go get it. Don't even think about taking a bus without a mask!" The pandemic has created new buzzwords. After wearing masks became a must in public spaces, mask-related buzzwords have been coined. The word "tuksk," is used if a mask is pulled down near the wearer's chin as tuk means chin in Korean.
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| Members of the public are scanned by a thermal sensor at Seoul Railway Station on Feb. 20. The number of infection cases surged that day as several Shincheonji church members tested positive. Korea Times photo by Shim Hyun-chul |
Named after Korean word for nose (ko), the word "kosk," is used if a mask exposes the wearer's nose. COVID-19 created heroes. Doctors and nurses have been praised for risking their health and putting patients' lives first. Heroes are born in a time of crisis. The China-bashing continues. China or anything Chinese has infuriated people as the virus originated in the country.
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| Conservative civic group members urge the Moon Jae-in government to stop allowing Chinese to enter South Korea in a protest near Cheong Wa Dae on Jan. 29. Korea Times photo by Shim Hyun-chul |
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