Opinion: We're stranded in Shanghai with 25 pounds of mangoes and some extremely accommodating neighbors.

"While you monitor the WeChat groups, I'll examine the apps, OK?"

"Deal."
Amid the world's harshest lockdown, division of labor is critical. From a great vantage point in a high-rise building in Shanghai's Pudong neighborhood, we are modern hunter-gatherers.

Initially, we would spend half of our days obtaining food and beverages. It's now closer to two hours per day. We consume whatever we can get our hands-on, but we're not in danger of running out of necessities like water, soap, and food.

We're not sure if this is related to our childhood in Brazil during hyperinflation in the early 1990s, or if it's just our imaginations playing tricks on us. But let us return to reality. There are mangoes to last us a few months -- 25 pounds of the fruit, to be precise.

As part of its uncompromising zero-Covid approach, China is experiencing its first big epidemic of Covid-19 in two years, necessitating a government-mandated lockdown of various cities. Shanghai, China's financial metropolis with a population of 25 million people, has been our adopted home for the past six years and is where we expect to stay for the next 40.

A year ago, daily life was in a good place. With two exceptions, life returned to normal: we were required to wear masks on public transit and in some government buildings, and any word of a single Covid-19 case in the city circulated like wildfire.

Everyone was informed that if someone in their neighborhood tested positive for Covid-19, they would be subjected to a targeted lockdown. It would last 14 days where the case was discovered and two days where the person had passed through (as long as everybody tested negative for two consecutive days).

Even though monthly instances were in the single digits, we never encountered anyone who had been detained. That began to change early this year, as cases began to pile up and facilities were forced to close more frequently.

When incidents began to rise in Shanghai in mid-February, people would ask themselves, "Does the venue have toilets?" before going anywhere. (When people were held up at a department shop, they were given buckets because there were no restrooms on the premises)? Is there a lot of open space?

"Had there been any confirmed instances in the area?" People would strive to avoid the possibility of a lockdown at all costs while yet being prepared for the worst.

That meant bringing a backpack to work with toiletries, a change of clothes, and other essentials in case of a lockdown.
Our eleventh-grader son's school informed us on March 10 that they were converting to virtual learning due to an increase in incidents. Rodrigo's mater, New York University Shanghai, followed suit shortly after.

We were still able to go out, and everything was still open. However, we decided to avoid crowds and even public transit, so no more basketball, tennis, or happy hours for us. Our three-bedroom apartment has plenty of space, and the city was still a vibrant organism. Many people, particularly migratory workers, are not that fortunate.

We decided to self-isolate after a day or two of this. We didn't want to end up in centralized quarantine or lockdown in a retail store or restaurant. We suspected a total shutdown was on the way.

Until both Spain and Brazil, we've been there before, watching instances climb while officials postpone the inevitable in 2020. What we didn't realize was that the Shanghaiese version would include halting deliveries as well as the closure of supermarkets and grocery outlets.

We awoke on March 24 to find our building's WeChat group buzzing with news that one of our residents had tested positive for Covid-19. For at least 15 days, the entire 18-building property would be sealed off from the outside world.

The building where the person lived would be shut down, and inhabitants would not be allowed to leave unless it was for medical reasons.

Because occupants of other buildings were still permitted to use the compound's common areas, several of our neighbors set up tents and a picnic table on the central lawn, where people congregated to trade food and laugh, with children running around. Nobody could go outdoors, but living in our neighborhood wasn't too horrible.

The worst wasn't over yet. Shanghai implemented a staggered lockdown on March 27. Our neighborhood, Pudong, on the east bank of the river, was the first to be shut down. Then five days later, Puxi in the west. Families swarmed into supermarkets and grocery stores in Puxi, leaving almost nothing behind.

We didn't have the opportunity to buy in quantity. Our neighbors didn't know either. The stringency of the lockdown caught us unprepared, with no time to stock up. We switched to survival mode.

It helps that we both grew up during Latin America's hyperinflationary period. Overnight, our thoughts turned to the early-1990s lessons learned from Brazil. It was common practice at the time to spend one's monthly salary as rapidly as possible. Every month, there was no point in holding onto cash because prices may climb by 10% or more. Do you have some cash on you? Spend it all before it becomes worthless.

As a result, stocking up on food became a regular family outing, to spend while guaranteeing that the food would last until the next paycheck. Families learned how to store food in bulk and how to use the same ingredient in numerous ways.

Then, as now, there was no point in wallowing about our predicament. Our mantra was "do what you must and control what you can."

The harsh lockdown in Shanghai's first hurdle was surprisingly simple to overcome. A neighbor assisted us in reaching out to the community manager, who works with official authorities to keep track of the ever-changing rules and regulations that each community must adhere to.

We were granted a special exemption to visit a local clinic for continued-use medications. We have a bike, which is important when people are worried about spreading community in enclosed situations such as vehicles or buses, and we are regarded as responsible neighbors.