Separated by Covid and a hostile border, Indo-Chinese couples yearn to reunite

Mighil*, a Kerala-born full-stack web consultant and musician, now based in Chengdu, China, last held his daughter in his arms the night before he came to India in January last year. She was about six months old then.

He came to India for a short work-related matter. But things turned for the worse soon. The COVID-19 pandemic hit a peak in China. Although he wanted to return, he cancelled the plan due to safety concerns.

By the end of March 2020, China had closed its borders and entry points. Meeting in a third country wasn’t an option because his daughter was too young to risk travelling, and also because they were constrained by budget.

Mighil has been separated from his wife Rui* and daughter ever since. Even after a year and a half, even as his daughter turned two recently, he is unable to return to them.

“Never knew I’d miss my kid for 18 months or more,” he rues now, inconsolably.

Although they yearn to be together, the travel ban imposed by the governments in the wake of the pandemic, the border tensions following clashes by troops and the subsequent strain in diplomatic ties between India and China, and the indifferent attitude of government officials, have resulted in Mighil staying stuck.

On March 15, China made it mandatory for travellers coming from India and 19 other countries to get Chinese COVID-19 vaccines. It did not accept the vaccines administered in India, both Covaxin and Covishield (Oxford AstraZeneca). This further complicated Mighil’s travel plans.

Desperate to return to China to resume work and studies, several Indians went to neighbouring Nepal to get the Chinese vaccines. Some crossed borders and spent lakhs to get the two doses of Chinese vaccines.

Mighil too had travelled to Nepal in April. “I did that because I knew things won’t work out well in India anytime soon. But things changed here as well. China put Nepal into the red zone,” he says.

Despite taking the vaccines, China has refused to allow Indians to enter its territory. Now, Indians aren’t able to exit from Nepal to a third country either. And the Indian government or the embassy does little to help.

“The Indian embassy here won’t help us either (especially if your destination is China).” he says.

Mighil is stuck with inter-country regulations and visa processes and unable to travel back even on a spouse visa.

As the Chinese Embassy in New Delhi is not operational, Mighil is looking to apply for a Chinese visa from Nepal, for which he needs an “address registration certificate” from the Indian embassy. “After reviewing my case, Indian diplomats directly said they won’t do it,” Mighil says. Now he has to stay in Nepal for six months to apply for a Chinese visa there.

He has sent several emails to the Chinese consulate officers in New Delhi and Kathmandu, Indian embassy in Kathmandu, but according to Chinese officials, his case doesn’t fall under “humanitarian grounds”, he says.

Mighil and Rui had met first in Chengdu back in 2015 when he moved to the city for work. Love blossomed, and soon they got hitched and registered their marriage in China. They held a reception in Kozhikode, Kerala. Later they decided to settle down in Chengdu city. “It is a beautiful city to live in when you compare it to big ones like Shanghai, Shenzhen, or the capital city of Beijing,” he says.

He and his friend Charlie ran chengduliving.com, an online forum about Chengdu city which they however shut in 2020 since both were stuck outside China.

As a techie, Mighil has been fascinated by China’s progress in technology. “The Chinese are more concentrated on learning and inventing, rather than conquering,” Mighil says. “I love the culture and straightforward mindset of the people.”

Mighil is also quite immersed in Chinese culture so much that he says he can easily relate with his Chinese colleagues and peers than with his ex-colleagues in India.

Considering the COVID scenario in India with over 30 million COVID cases and four lakh deaths, Mighil and his family are not keen to move his family to India.

“My long-term plan is to get settled in Chengdu or somewhere in Dujiangyan,” he says. “As a person who is immersed in the Chinese culture, I feel she’d be safer and more secure growing up in China.”

With the Indian government banning Chinese apps on account of security issues, including the widely used chat app, Wechat, many couples like Mighil and Rui have to use virtual private networks (VPN) to talk to their loved ones.

With unending uncertainty surrounding COVID-19 and inter-country travel, families at home in either country became pillars of support.

Worse for unmarried couples

Mighil is not alone in such an ordeal. Kushal Ram, a yoga teacher from Mysuru, travelled to China to teach Yoga. He found love and was in a live-in partnership with a Chinese woman. They had a child and were planning to get married, when the pandemic struck and separated them.

Since Kushal does not have a work visa nor a spouse visa, since he’s not married, the complications are more.

Ram has been struggling to get a single-status certificate in India but he’s made to run between district collector’s offices and the Home Department for nearly four months but hasn’t yet got the document.

After he gets the single certificate, Ram will have to get it authorised by the Ministry of External Affairs and the Chinese Embassy. And even after this, there is uncertainty on whether China will grant a visa.

“It’s been 15 months. I have no choice. I cannot do anything. Who do I go and tell my problem to?” Ram asks.

Moreover, his daughter’s citizenship certificate says she is born to a single parent, without any trace of the father’s identity.

Unlike India and China, European countries have been kind to cross-border couples. They eased travel restrictions so that couples separated during the pandemic could reunite. For instance, in July last year Norway allowed people from outside the European Union to enter the country if they could prove they are in a real romantic relationship with someone who lives in Norway. Denmark and Austria too introduced similar measures.

But for Indian-Chinese couples, there’s only endless uncertainty.

Tech helps but not enough

Mingmei (name changed), in her late 20s, has been in a relationship with a Bengaluru-based techie since mid-2019. After getting acquainted over the internet, they met in China briefly in 2019 in what was their last meeting.

Before she met him, Mingmei worked for a company that had India links. But she changed jobs so that she could get a work visa in India. Today, despite having a work visa, she’s unable to reach the country due to the travel ban and safety concerns. Twice her travel plans to India got disrupted due to the pandemic in the last 18 months.

So, it is technology that has helped them stay connected. But that’s not always helpful, she says.

“Sometimes face-to-face interaction is better. Technology cannot help us understand emotions,” she says.

“Sometimes, when I see my peers happy and settling in life in China, I wonder why I chose such a hard path and feel sad,” she says.

Not everybody can manage relationships over internet. Some took to therapists to handle the crisis, some lived with hope, and some even gave up on their relationship. Many lives remain upended.

But Mingmei is determined to beat this and be with her boyfriend.

“I believe this separation will only strengthen us for tough times ahead. We hope this lasts for a short time and that we will overcome the situation,” she says.

Her determination overcomes the fears of her parents and her company, which doesn’t want to risk sending her to India. Her parents are worried and have been trying to dissuade her from visiting India.

But for love, she’s willing to take the risk and hopes the pandemic gets better in the days to come.

Even as Mingmei maintains ger relationship over phone, Mighil tries to manage with a freelance job in Nepal. At times, he video-calls his daughter and cherishes her smartness at her age from 1,200 miles away.

“She tells me stories and sings songs. And it’s a good feeling to listen to her call me ‘baba’,” Mighil says.  “Things get emotional at times but I’ve learned to manage.”

* (doesn’t wish to disclose full name)