I Traveled to Serbia from New York City During a Global Pandemic

A Love Letter to Those Stranded from Their Loved Ones

As my friend drove toward the exit for Terminal 4 of JFK, I took a deep breath. I have never been the type to take risks. “Be afraid of everything” is the phase that comes to mind.

This was my upbringing.

Having two protective parents, I had grown up with the mentality to think before you act, always be skeptically optimistic, and do not — under any circumstance — underestimate the surprises in the world. If I were to take a risk, say, go to a sleepover with a belly ache, I was taught to calculate the risk.

Would there be a chance that I would get sick? If I did, did the host parents have the capability to help me? Would my friends judge me? Would I get my friends sick? Could it possibly just be gas and I just needed to pass it and then everything would be okay? Was I willing to suffer the social repercussions of being 11 years old and passing gas in front of my middle school aged comrades?

If there was ever a possible negative consequence to an action or decision to be made, it would be best to avoid taking action. It’s better to be realistic than to suffer future disappointment. So why did I think traveling on August 14th, 2020 to Novi Sad, Serbia during a global pandemic, would be a safe bet?

There is so much to unpack here. But let me start with the logistics. I had been dating Aleks for a month on a cruise ship job in Germany as of February 2020. I was about to disembark and return to New York City to live with my two best friends.

The ship’s crew was very international and I was the only American. However, I became very acquainted with the idea of connecting with new crew members from all over the world. When it was time to disembark the ship it was hard. However, I knew we would see each other again. After all, I already had another contract with the company lined up for May that would go through February 2021.

Aleks was the drummer in the band, comprised of other musicians based out of Novi Sad, while I was in the Show Ensemble in the Theater Department. His contract would end only a week later, so we decided that in April I would visit him at his home. Then, in May, we would stay together again in Hamburg when I started rehearsals for the next ship contract. It was all a smart and calculated plan that would keep us together.

When I finally disembarked and arrived back to NYC, I was excited for my 3 month vacation with my best friends in their new apartment. As we began moving everything in on March 14, 2020, we had no idea how much our lives and plans would change.

The Ship

I was running around Bed Bath & Beyond when I got the strange call. My roommates and I were busy grabbing some much needed last minute items on the day of our move-in. It was March 14th, a few days before NYC would shut down as a result of the COVID-19 Pandemic.

The day before the call, Aleks and the crew had been notified by the cruise company that their ship needed to return immediately to their home port due to an increase of COVID-19 numbers in Germany. During this rushed journey, the crew was faced with traveling directly through a winter hurricane.

As I stood in the “Towel” aisle, my phone began to buzz with messages.

“Water is coming in from somewhere in the front... I just hope its not a leak.”

“The wind is so strong, there is water in the passenger cabins as well…there is some kind of emergency.”

“It’s getting more aggressive.”

“We are using all 3 engines and we somehow are not even moving forward”.

I had been on the ship with Aleks during a hurricane before. It can be scary, but we are all trained for dangerous scenarios. It is by no means a comfortable situation and can be extremely dangerous. However, the ship, and this ship in particular, was built to survive dangerous weather. And the Captain would never make a foolish decision.

Yet, never before had I experienced the Bridge (which includes the captain and his officers) being tasked with making such a dangerous decision. In many ways this decision was forced upon them, because if they missed the deadline to reach the port, they would be forced to put the passengers and crew in further danger.

Now, the direct threat was no longer the virus, but that the ship could sink. Nothing scares Aleks, if he is truly worried, then something is really wrong.

I turned to my roommate’s dad, the one authority figure I could confide in.

“I think the ship is sinking.”

I will never forget that moment. It was the first of many moments during the next five months that I would feel so helpless. I had no control, no way of helping him. Aleks was facing a life or death situation in the middle of the North Sea, while I stood with my roommates as they decided which trash can we should buy.

Luckily the crew and passengers made it out with their lives, but a few folks had major injuries. The ship, too, had suffered great damage in the bow, where heavy waves had managed to hit the anchor-room doors with such force that the steel frame bent inward, allowing water to pour in and flood the front six levels of the ship.

Once they had reached their destination and passengers had been disembarked, the crew received the official news that they would be stuck on the ship until further notice.

At that point in time, Aleks was already supposed to have been home in Serbia.

Thus began a week of waiting; waiting for news from the port and waiting for news from the company about logistical things — such as, when they would restart and how they would continue to be paid. During this time, crew members did their best to make repairs, complete some spring cleaning that would otherwise not have been done until a scheduled “dry dock”, and worry about when they would see their families again. Luckily, thanks to the swift nature of the company, the entire fleet was “Corona Free”. There was no risk of getting the virus, especially because there was already efficient cleaning processes to prevent other contagious diseases from coming aboard.

The Entertainment Department would put on shows for the crew to lift their spirits and the crew was allowed to eat in the passenger dining area and to purchase drinks from the bar. However, the atmosphere was still bleak. Eventually, the workload on board became less and less, until the daily routine for even the previously most busy crew members became a half-day of work, followed by an afternoon coffee to pass the time.

New York

The first two weeks of the crisis in New York are something I still do not know how to comprehend. I would spend hours researching the New Novel Coronavirus (having a brief background in viral research), reading any new case study and browsing every scientific journal. My coping mechanism was to overload on information. I often would lay awake at night wondering if the last time I hugged my parents may be THE last time. My father has a heart condition and I would worry about his health, and then begin to worry that I was focusing so much on his health that maybe I would become oblivious of the risks my mother was also taking, being over 60 herself, and then I would start worrying for her safety as well.

I became obsessed with the news for the first time in my life, and I think back on how much bad reporting ignited my anxiety. My roommates and I resorted to binge watching popular YouTube cooking shows, which were interwoven with advertisements for companies showing their support for healthcare workers, or PSAs from the CDC on how to wash your hands. One day, we watched a video a friend sent us from a doctor working in one of the NYC hospitals. It was four weeks in by now, and this was the first time we had heard about wearing masks.

The Ship

There were rumors that the crew would be allowed to disembark by May 1st. The citizens of the port country were allowed to return home by car. The fleet sailed under the Italian flag and because of the strong seafarer union, the crew was allowed to continue receiving their full wages.

As May 1st came and went, the likelihood of crew members living outside the US and EU being disembarked became very slim. Flights would be booked, and then cancel the day before disembarking. In some cases, disembarked crew would arrive at the airport as the flight was announced to be canceled and would have to stay the night in a hotel, just to be returned to the ship the following day. Eventually, the company organized crews from other ships within the fleet to integrate to one ship. By the end of May, this process forced Aleks and many of his co-workers to move between 4 ships.

New York

My roommates and I found other activities to pass the time, especially as each of us began loosing our jobs. Having a new house, we worked on renovations big and small, decorating and gardening. We potted plants, we learned how to do embroidery, we became puzzle aficionados. I took up learning a second language. We watched YouTube workout videos.

Adapting to Long Distance

I called Aleks everyday. No exception. The one thing that Aleks and I had was our daily conversations. I would update him on the situation in NYC and he would update me with his situation stuck on a ship. And then I would update him on the fun and stupid parts of my day, where I attempted to avoid my workout by eating bread in bed while he would tell me about the funny interaction he had with our mutual friend over text. Joy and love could still be found even as the world around us felt like it was taking complete control over our free will.

As the weeks went by, and deaths grew in the New York City area and the world, we felt powerless to the disease, to our absent federal government, and to the trajectory of our own lives. The pandemic would continue, as this disease knows no borders, unlike both the Serbian and United States federal leaders believe. And while governments, both local and federal, fought about the next action steps our frontline workers fought this disease and with great risk to their own lives. Our doctors found out more about this disease and how to treat patients, as well as how healthy people could avoid getting the virus.

Aleks and I would spend hours talking about politics and the current events. Often, this would be the source of our arguments. Aleks, having already lived through an epidemic and war, knew how to mentally work through these events. I however, took everything extremely personally. In both of our countries, citizens were protesting against the government. In the United States, it was in reference to fighting white supremacy and the police. In Serbia, it was in reaction to the government’s handling of curfews and false case records during the election season.

These deep conversations would always get me into a funk. I would realize that all we were able to do during this time apart was talk. We shouldn’t waste this time arguing, especially when the arguments surrounded our opinions on things completely out of our control.

Aleks and I had a very different upbringing, different career experiences, and come from different cultures. These discussions were extremely important to helping us understand each other’s perspectives. And if we couldn’t be together physically, we needed to understand and work though how to be there for each other mentally.

An Opportunity

New York began to see case numbers lower and even saw a streak of zero corona-related deaths. I began to see an opportunity rise. By August, numbers in Serbia were plateauing, most likely because its worst numbers were in late June, when their reports were falsified. If I acted fast, this may be the one window of opportunity to see Aleks.

Our calculated plans had fell out the window. Every day that we talked we became closer and closer. Arguably, our conversations became more vulnerable with distance and the uncertainty of ever seeing each other again.

I had experienced loss, unemployment, breakups, anxiety, and other natural events that occur in life before the pandemic, but this was different. I had met someone that changed my life, more than any other way I had experienced before. Of that, I am quite sure.

And this pandemic, to be frank and selfish, ruined what should have been the best moments of my life thus far.I finally had a stable job, an amazing person in my life, a stable home to live in in-between jobs, and for the first time I could see my life following a single path, instead of wandering around an open field.

This virus had taken away my free will. And now, I could finally see a window of opportunity to take one of the biggest risks of my life.

I bought my plane tickets two weeks before the actual trip, that way I could let the news sink in for my parents and create an action plan with my roommates of how I would be able to quarantine when I returned from Novi Sad. Telling my parents was one of the hardest things I had to do. Really, I told my mother and then she told my father, and I gave them the chance to fret over it all before I would actually leave. It went surprisingly better than expected.

But when my brother — who had been living in Milan through the pandemic — pushed me to second guess myself, I suddenly began to panic. His view, living within the EU, was painting Serbia as a very vulnerable hotspot for the virus. What was I doing? The government of Serbia had already lied about case numbers. Wasn’t it possible that even Aleks was misinformed about the safety of the city during this time, especially since he lived further out from the center? Had I thought about this at all? TRAVELING DURING A GLOBAL PANDEMIC??? I must be crazy.

Decision Time

I began writing down different logic based “pros” and “cons” charts, using percentages and ranking systems to figure out if I was actually making the right decision. I even asked myself, “What if I knew I was dying and had only 3 months to live?” Would I still do this? Well, of course. But, I’m not dying. I’m putting myself at risk of dying!

As I mentioned in the beginning of this story, I was raised to take calculated risk. I had done all my research ahead of time on how to travel safe and remain safe once in Serbia, as well as getting the best travel insurance for the worst case scenario.

It finally hit me that I was making the right decision during one of my huge research binges I so often partook in. It had led me to a group of people online, from all over the world, who were in the same situation as me. They were stranded from a spouse, boyfriend, or partner who were living in a different country.

As I began to read stories about different people’s personal scenarios, I realized how lucky I was. At any time, since Serbia had reopened its borders, I could travel to visit Aleks. And for the majority of the world, those who were separated from one another would not be able to solve their problem with a simple click of the “complete purchase” button.

I realized that I needed to do this, not only for myself, or for Aleks, or for our relationship, but that I must do this for those who would remain separated from one another, against their will, for an undisclosed amount of time. And I had to set a precedent for myself that love and happiness was just as important to my health as avoiding this virus.

I could no longer weigh the risks. There would be a 50/50 chance of success in this endeavor. I would have to become comfortable with being uncomfortable with this. I would have to cope with making a decision that was against my better judgement, but what I ultimately full-heartedly supported with my gut instinct.

Now, as I sit here in my empty New York City apartment, quarantining alone after my two week stay in Novi Sad, I can reflect that taking this risk was the best decision I have yet to make. It turned out to not even be as risky as I initially thought. It was the fear of so many unknowns that blinded me from seeing that the decision to go, or not go, was already decided for me.

If you love someone, you do what you need to do to be with them.

The BIG MOMENT

Once I had gotten through customs at Belgrade Nikola Tesla Airport, I headed toward the exit, relieved. I had survived a horrendous eight hour journey of anxiety, a fully packed flight, an annoying American sitting behind me telling the guy next to him how he was cheating the system and driving into Europe from Belgrade, at least ten crying babies, and no sleep.

I had imagined this day for five months. Would it feel like it was just yesterday that I had disembarked the ship? Would he run to me or I to him? Or would we just smile at each other from afar? My mind was racing.

I walked out to the lobby and searched the crowd. I text him.

“Where are you?”

Bing.

“Outside, they aren’t letting everyone inside.”

I walk outside to the arrival car lane. He is nowhere to be found.

Bing.

“They let me in, I’m right inside.”

I turn around. And then I see him.

I have trouble describing this moment.

He sees me, standing across the street. We walk to each other, slowly, and avoiding bumping into the crowd that is slowly entering the lobby. We reach each other outside on the sidewalk, both wide-eyed. I quickly kiss him and give him a tight hug, and step back. He is still looking at me, smiling big and wide-eyed.

“I can’t believe it,” he says.

We walk to the car, looking at each other periodically in disbelief.

“I never thought this would happen,” I say.

“Me neither. But, I’m glad it did.”

I open the door to the car and sit inside.

“I’m just going to go pay for parking,” he says.

I sit in the car, silently, looking out the window to some distant mountain range, the area that Novi Sad is located in.

We can finally begin.