GATE 14: A journey from Chile to Germany in the beginning of the pandemic.

Since my flight was first cancelled on March 17, 2020 due to the closing of the borders between South America, the U.S. and Europe, my experience of social isolation and mandatory quarantine began in Concón, Chile. After losing my job in Germany and the closure of the universities in Berlin, I realized that this situation was taking place on a global scale and just beginning to unfold. Being isolated in a small city near the sea, it was difficult to understand the magnitude of what was causing the current pandemic. The constant cancellation of flights to get back to Berlin (my current place of residence) and the uncertainty of the international airlines of not being able to guarantee a return flight, provoked within me a feeling of 'Hold'. From my previous anthropological and artistic works on liminality, I could easily make the connection of this historical moment of chaos, uncertainty and panic with the state of transformation, danger and pause that liminality has. Later on, the repatriation flights to Europe began in Latin America. The long lists of Chileans waiting to enter this aid program provided by European governments and in my case the German government was 'surreal', since the selection by European embassies was not objective. In the end it was almost a 'contest' of who registered first, had cash to pay for the non-commercial flight and was eligible for 'repatriation' on the basis of their passport/visa. The selection to be within the repatriation list did not have an objective logic and it was not possible to find this information online or by phone. From my personal experience and from my Chilean friends, we could observe the possible criteria to be part of this privileged group. One of the potential aspects was that you had to have a European passport to be able to apply. Chilean friends who have permanent residences in Europe and have lived abroad for many years could not be included in the list, even those who are married to Europeans or have children born abroad also experienced this rejection from this repatriation process. Already the name of the program made me uncertain and concerned about a possible hidden 'nationalism' that facilitated migrant border control in Europe. I managed to take the last repatriation flight to Europe, thanks to the French embassy, we were the last of the lucky ones to be able to return. I understood that my privileged position as a Chilean with an Italian passport worked in my favour again and also the fact that I was in a high risk group due to my Type 1 Diabetes. Many of my Chilean friends were left behind, unable to return, because they were not part of the selected 'privileged' group. The speed at which the border closed meant that only a privileged minority were selected to be repatriated (those holding EU passports), when many others also had grounds to return to their country of residence (visa and residency) but did not have citizenship.



The airport of Santiago de Chile was almost empty. I only saw the people from the airlines, the cleaners and some people with suitcases. When you asked, you knew that they were all on repatriation flights to their countries. There weren’t any more commercial flights and all the flights listed on the Arrival/Departure screen were listed as cancelled. I was with my mom and sister, all three wearing masks and very afraid to touch anything, thinking at the time that the virus was all around. We were afraid that the flight would be cancelled at the last minute and that we would have to return home but it didn't happen and everything went smoothly. I remember my last hug with my mom: It was quick and scary. I felt that it could be a long time before we saw each other again because the pandemic was just calming down in Europe (my return flight was on 30 April 2020) while Latin America was waiting for the curve to start going up. I felt that I was part of a selected group from the embassy, walking through exclusive areas at the airport where only VIPs could otherwise pass. The plane was completely full, no seats were empty, everyone was wearing a mask, no one was talking, you could feel the tension, fear and collective panic at the thought that one of us might have the virus and that within a matter of hours we could all be infected and in quarantine, like many previous cases with other airlines. The staff communicated loudly that they were voluntarily bringing us home, as a kind of undercover hero, since they were risking the same as we were. Listening to this speech my tension grew stronger as I realized again that we were in a global emergency.

When I stepped on European ground at the airport in Paris, I was able to do some social distancing before getting on the next flight to Germany. The traces of mask on my face were evident, marking the beginning of the transformation of my body and its image, which will later be observe in the 'global normalization' of the pandemic. The Paris-Charles de Gaulle Airport was empty, not even the cleaners were present. The silence was undeniable and the stillness from the absence of the human body. The group of passengers from our plane was confused and many of us did not know where to go, as there was no one to ask or any information on the screens. I managed to connect with a Chilean man who was also going to Berlin and surprisingly had more information about where the flight was. While waiting at our gate, I was able to observe the dynamic in our group. There was a strong insecurity about the correct distance to keep, the movement of the body was sloppy and there was a collective doubt regarding 'what to talk about', since each one of us had a different experience of the coronavirus and many felt the need to express it out loud. Gate 14 became a liminal space, a safe place for the exchange of experiences and feelings. This group of strangers became intimate, producing a place beyond time/space producing a space of exchanges and possibilities.