"Covid Test" Doesn't Mean a Test That Administers Covid, Does It?

This is my last Covid posting. Probably.

I have been relatively careful regarding Covid-19 in Armenia. Relatively I say, because I relaxed the very stringent care I took to protect myself since first arriving here after a few days. As readers of this blog from the beginning would know, my most popular blog posting (by far) was the scary Air Covid flight I took from Paris to Yerevan. Well, I relaxed those stringent rules for myself because I found out, soon enough, that I would not have met anyone—I mean, really spoken to them—if I kept to the kind of restrictions those in Canada are used to (and I was used to). Rules which, incidentally, only got "scarier" after I left, which was on the first day Quebec had required a curfew on citizens. I understand restrictions got even worse after that, in Quebec and elsewhere, as covid numbers seemingly weren't abating.

I'm happy to learn that there has been a precipitous decline in those Canadian numbers since my coming here: but they remain greater, if only just, than those in Armenia today. Numbers in Armenia were significantly lower when I arrived, with around half or fewer the number of cases, and way fewer deaths. What I didn't know before coming here was the reason for this, which I detail in my last blog on Covid. Most people I met in Armenia have already either had covid, or think they may have had it: and considering that perhaps half of people don't show any symptoms, it's safe to say that this country liberally went through covid already. The horrible thing about this is that the health care system couldn't reach everyone. The good thing is that there are fewer cases now. Many believe there is herd immunity, but they should take heed: because of the newer strain(s) of Covid, the future may be bleak.

Although the war was the main reason for covid relaxation throughout the country, the relative lack of restrictions here is not completely illogical: I recall that people in Ottawa were out in bars, restaurants, public events just as much and as often as here, from around June to mid-November, when numbers were deemed relatively low. For those with a short memory, here is a useful timeline.

Why am I writing about covid again? Because a week ago, I was pretty heavily rebuked by a Canadian friend for being out and about with other people in Armenia, because it was argued that I am participating in the covid spread in this country. Although I felt it was not a fair comparison between the situations in the two countries, it was a fair comment: indeed, if there is any possibility that I have it, why not just make sure. As such, last Wednesday I passed a test, and was negative. But, oh, what a test it was! It is the reason for this blog entry.

So, I walked into the closest branch of Prom Test, which I was told was the most reputable place to get a test done in Yerevan (note: I was told of a different location than the one I chose, which I didn't go to. Silly Canadian, don't you know different places here may provide different testing policies?) I called to make sure they are open and was told, nicely, that they are, it was 15,000 AMD ($37 CAD), there would be a nose and throat swab, and that I needed to not drink, eat or smoke (?) anything three hours before. Now, not eating before a blood test I had heard of, but not doing so before a covid test? At any rate, I didn't need to do this before a test in Canada. But OK. The not smoking request was... interesting, too.

I got there and waited maybe 10 minutes to be served, even though there were no other customers. A woman with her mask worn "Armenian style" I will call it, i.e. only on her mouth, was sitting and chatting on her cell phone: she didn't acknowledge me for a while, and when she did, I realized she was not the receptionist. I was afraid it may have been the technician administering the test (spoiler alert: it was). The actual receptionist (who was actually wearing her mask over her nose: yay!) finally got off her personal phone call in the back and came to serve me. And everything went well enough. But wait, there's more!

I was sent in back to be tested by the person who was on her cell phone earlier. Now, for those in the know, it's no surprise that smooth surfaces, such as phones especially, are nasty potential carriers of covid. So, I was a bit leery. She put on gloves: right at that moment I hadn't considered what I did soon after, which is, did she sanitize her hands before putting on those gloves? (Back to that later). She got her swabs and was about to test me and told me to please lift my mask. Oh, did I neglect to mention, she still had not covered her nose? I asked her in my broken Արեւելահայերէն (Eastern Armenian), can you please lift your mask? She said "Yes, yes please remove your mask". So I said: "No, can YOU please cover YOUR NOSE with YOUR mask?" She quickly realized what I meant and lifted her mask, and that was that. Oh, right, I realized later, didn't she just touch her (presumably contaminated) mask with her gloves?

The test: she scraped the back of my throat with one swab (uncomfortably), and I was steeling myself for the uncomfortable nose swab which, we all know now right?, should be inserted relatively deeply in the nasal cavity. Not this one! It was inserted about half an inch inside one nostril, then the same the other side (I only realized later, again, that those same gloves which touched my chin and maybe lip were potentially contaminated...) I was told that I was done, and that I would receive my results within 8 hours. Bye bye!

I might have been in a bit of shock, but only after leaving did I realize what I wrote above: that she didn't (that I saw) sanitize her hands before putting on gloves, that she touched her mask with those gloves, that she touched my face with those gloves, and she didn't swab correctly (this last one I knew, and could have asked about on the spot). I mean, this is a COVID LAB!!! Not only should they know about this (right?), but this place is potentially one of the most contaminated places where one can catch covid! Anyhow, later that evening I received my NEGATIVE test result by email.

Now, I knew I needed to pass a second test 72 hours before my flight, which I did today. I went to the same lab this morning. It was swarmed with people (everyone had masks fortunately, but still, 7-8 people in one small room, with no real distancing. Again, this is a covid testing lab...) I decided to leave and try again an hour later, when fortunately it was empty. This time, no waiting: the same receptionist much more quickly took my info, and the tester was someone different. And she was wearing her mask as one should (side note: when I took the same test in Canada before coming here, the person had a mask, goggles, shield, gloves, and head to toe cover: full PPE as it is called. But I digress.) Just before she tested me, she used the computer and a key card (both of which could potentially be crawling with covid...)

I asked her, just before she wore her gloves, if she could sanitize her hands. Again, I think the Eastern-Western language divide made her misunderstand: she thought I said, DID she do this. She said of course she did, and proceeded to put on her gloves. So I said, no, I don't mean did she do so earlier, I meant did she AFTER touching her computer. She looked at me as though I was from another planet, and said well, if I insist, she would go and sanitize her hands, threw away the gloves and proceeded to sanitize her hands. In what I think was a snarky way, she then asked if I wanted to sanitize my hands, too. I said I had no need to, and thanked her kindly (she was after all going to put a swab up my nose).

The rest of the test went as it should: she gave me a good double scrape of the throat (slight gag but ok), and she swabbed both nostrils, but properly I thought: up both nostrils, in an uncomfortable manner. As I was leaving, again snarkily I thought, she asked me to leave the testing area from another way than where I came through (there were no markings for this on the floor, and I hadn't done so last time). I felt she was making fun of me a bit, but of course didn't care, I felt as though I completed a proper test.

Now, dear reader, apologies for my frustrated post: because in the end, this second test was also, NEGATIVE! Good for me. But, and I don't like complaining usually: this is a COVID LAB. People with Covid potentially go there, there should be a much more stringent policy of cleaning and sanitizing. And training: employees should follow a clearly defined standard of testing. They could actually be spreading covid themselves, so they obviously should be more stringent.

But I am happy: I got my "passport" to Canada, because without this test, I couldn't get on the plane. And given the way I was tested, I am confident that I actually don't have covid.

Here's the takeaway, and a slight segue. The mindset is incredibly different here, and this covid example is only a sampling: many people here would say stuff like "drink dnagan oghi (moonshine) and it will kill covid!" or, about circumstances generally, "it's in god's hands". Whereas we in the West feel a lot more control on our lives and the potential outcome of what we want and don't want. We are confident that we can effect change, if we want. We feel we have affect, influence. We don't just let circumstances lead our decision-making if we are unhappy, we feel like we can complain, or argue, or ask. We have CONFIDENCE in ourselves. I come away with the idea that this country, regrettably like so many others in the world, does not foster that kind of confidence in individuals, the kind that leads people to agitate for change, to feel they deserve better, to feel like they matter. Or maybe I should say, did not, once upon a time. A Westerner here certainly feels that way, but I am not sure the average citizen does. Unless they wield power: i.e., they are wealthy. I don't feel like I know enough to say this with certainty, but it feels as though this is a remnant of the old Soviet mentality.

The 2018 Velvet Revolution makes me wonder about how people have changed in the last decade or two: did people attempt to throw off the shackles of powerlessness to some degree, because they are moving away from that mentality? If they did, the experiment is being sorely tested since covid and a war.

OK, enough for today. I have SO much to write from my Armenia experiences, not least of which is, three weeks on, my initial tours of a demonstration orchard, a music school, and other places in Yeghegnadzor, as well as details about who I met while in Yerevan, what I intend to do after my return, and importantly, how people can help from back home. I will surely have an opportunity to address these after my return, while in quarantine for two weeks.

I saw a lovely sculpture at Artsakh Strong's founder Raffi Keuhnelian's office today of the head of Gomidas, bought once upon a time at Vernissage, which struck me, so I will post it here. Raffi moved here 7 years ago and started the volunteer organization Artsakh Strong soon after the war.