It is busy at the Eternal Harmonie cemetery, China is mourning covid deaths

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  Sjoerd den Daas

  correspondent China

“Corona”, the old woman still splutters from her stretcher. She doesn’t know when she got infected. But she hastens to say that things are getting better. “Much better”, after which she has to cough heavily again. “We are waiting for a bed,” says her daughter. “Only when people are fired can my mother be admitted.”

The reality for dozens of other people in need in the corridor of De Weeping Wilg hospital in Beijing, in a busy emergency room. Even though the peak in the number of infections in the capital may be over, the consequences of the unannounced and for many completely unexpected release of the corona measures are still festering in hospitals and crematoria.

It is also busy in the morning at the Second People’s Hospital in Shenzhen. “The waiting time for the emergency room is about two hours,” someone in a blue vest shouts. For a fee he drives your car away, normally a service to drive drunks home in their own car, now so that you don’t have to wait for a parking space. “It’s mostly covid patients,” he says.

“You should have seen it here two weeks ago,” says one of the security guards. “Everyone has had it by now. It is now a lot quieter.” No large groups of elderly people waiting in the corridors for oxygen and medication, from orthopedics to oncology: other departments seem to function as if nothing ever happened.

What will come into play: Shenzhen is one of China’s youngest cities. In appearance and activity (the city is a hotbed for tech companies) but also in terms of the population. The average Shenzhen resident is 32.5 years old, against an average age of 37.5 nationwide. Yet Shenzhen is not completely immune to the vagaries of corona, as witnessed by the crowds of the city’s only crematorium.

Relatives wait impatiently for the name of their loved one to appear on a large board, as if they were standing in front of a board announcing train arrivals and departures. There are many hundreds of them, in total: many dozens of groups of relatives and friends of the deceased, who all want to know in which of the dozens of halls the coffin will soon be wheeled into.

All are dressed in traditional mourning clothes. Usually in white, the color of mourning, sometimes supplemented with mourning caps. Almost every group carries a picture of the relative who has left the earth world, the literal translation of chushi, death in China. One company has not yet left the hall, or the next is already eager to enter.

Understandably, few feel like talking. “I’ve come to bury my father,” says one of those present, drowned out by the Buddhist sounds from his Bluetooth speaker. He says he’s been waiting for hours. “Hopefully it’s our turn this afternoon.” The hustle and bustle here means good business in the sales office of the Eternal Harmonie cemetery, a stone’s throw from the incinerators.

“All furloughs have been cancelled,” says Lu, when asked about the effects of China’s new covid policy, or the absence thereof. “We don’t get any time off during Chinese New Year.” In recent days in particular, many places have been bought away, she says. From about 5300 for a modest place at the foot of the mountain, to more than 30,000 for a place at the top, overlooking a small lake. “There it is quiet, and the feng shui the best,” says Lu.

“We are really super busy,” says Lu. “Yesterday, the day before yesterday, we sold more than twenty in one day.” Much more than normal, she says, in the country where, according to researchers at Peking University, about 900 million people are now or have been infected. That amounts to about two-thirds of the population. How many deaths have fallen so far remains a guess. Many thousands per day seems like a defensive estimate.

Authorities have reported no more than a handful of deaths per day in recent weeks. They stopped doing that earlier this week. It is partly a matter of definitions: China, for example, does not count corona deaths if there was already underlying suffering. Another complicating factor: China’s phenomenal testing capacity has gone up in smoke.

Various media, including The Washington Post, published satellite images showing busy parking lots at crematoria that endorse what the World Health Organization also states: that China is seriously underreporting the number of corona deaths. Covid chief Liang Wannian said that deaths can only be properly counted when the pandemic is over.

While it is still very busy at the crematorium in Shenzhen, Beijing, which peaked earlier, seems to be calming down again. At least that’s what it tends to be at the Dongjiao crematorium, although undercover agents have to prevent journalists from seeing what goes on behind the gates. “Get out or we’ll call the police!” shouts one of them. “Everything is normal here,” says one of the coffin sellers.