Day 6 – sacrifices
The virus
is an invisible enemy. We walk around and it could be sneaking up on us from
every possible direction. But we can look at where it has marched before,
follow its trail and grasp it. The Netherlands is now where Italy was three
weeks ago. We know what happened there. To date almost 3000 dead, while here
there are just over 100 – just like Italy three weeks ago.
We must decide: what
and who are we willing to sacrifice? It has become evident that people are not easily
persuaded to give up their freedom, they don’t want to forego their fun:
meetings with friends, jogging in crowded parks, strolling on the beach in hordes,
never thinking about social distancing. Why?
Because we
already gave up so much? In some cases, people’s livelihoods were lost. Nobody
can travel anywhere. And I too have had to sacrifice a lot for this pandemic. I
was going to be in two theatre shows, which were to premiere this month and
have been cancelled. We have no idea when we will be able to play them now. Hubby
and I had booked a bucket-list trip to Svalbard, which will almost certainly
not happen, as it is in a few weeks’ time. Most of it isn’t refundable, so that
money is lost, but more importantly, the experience. Will I ever be able to go
on this trip? Nobody knows. I will have to go for weeks without seeing friends
or colleagues, do a lot of extra work to transfer my lessons online. Surely, I
have sacrificed enough on the altar of Corona? Many others will have similar
thoughts.
Or is it
because this virus really isn’t that big a deal? Seeing figures of the
influenza in 2017/18 in the Netherlands, 900,000 were infected, 16,000
hopitalised and 9400 died. That’s just two years ago. Nobody talked about
social distancing, let alone banning all air travel, or forcing the whole population
to work from home. Even washing hands was mentioned only occasionally. According
to the World Health Organisation, the flu (influenza) causes around 5 million
cases of severe illness globally and kills up to 650,000 annually. In
comparison, this makes Covid-19 look like small fry.
I veer
between worrying and getting annoyed with people who walk too close to thinking
that this whole thing is greatly exaggerated. Not wanting to fall into
conspiracy paranoia, I do feel I am missing part of the picture. So, I can’t
grasp it, after all. Yes, we are where Italy was three weeks ago. But where we
are headed with this, we’ll only be able to see in hindsight, if ever.
Are we,
in fact, the ones being sacrificed?
19 March 2020
Day 4 - mysteries
What a
strange virus this Covid-19 is. Some people get mild, almost undetectable
symptoms, whereas others get very ill and even die. I wonder what makes one
person so much more susceptible than the other. At first, we all believed that
only old or sick people would be in the danger zone, but this no longer holds
true. It’s almost like a lottery, like Russian roulette.
When I was
a child, there was an outbreak of TB and doctors came to the school to test
everyone. I tested positive. But my immune system had somehow dealt with it, so
I didn’t get sick. Now, I wasn’t exactly the epitome of robust health, but an
anemic, skinny child who was often ill. How impressed I was with my body! Will
it save me again, should I encounter the Crowned Contagion?
The enigmatic
nature of the virus makes it great fodder for conspiracy theorists. Was it
bio-engineered by the CIA as a weapon to undermine China becoming the largest
economy? Or perhaps it was a plan hatched by the 1% to dominate us all through
fear, and there is actually no virus? It’s a ploy to roll out 5G without
opposition, because everyone needs fast internet if they are going to work from
home. The virus was created to cause infertility to stall the expansion of the
human population. Or, if not the virus, surely the vaccine that’s in the making
will cause infertility – Bill Gates said so! Similarly, the internet abounds
with ‘explanations’ why we are having this pandemic now. Climate change,
pollution, inequality, the way we treat
animals, a punishment from God.
Speaking of
God, or religion at least: today I found out there is actually a Saint Corona
and her remains are buried in Northern Italy. And - although this is tenuous as
there is only one source (the Ecumenical Lexicon of Saints) that confirms this - she
is, amongst other things, the patron saint against ‘Seuchen’, i.e. epidemics! How amazing is that? Her name day is 14 May, so be sure to
light a candle for her on that day. If it doesn’t stop the pandemic, it might
help you win the lottery, because she’s in charge of that too.
Day 4. A day to think about things, to try to
unravel mysteries. There is so much we cannot see, cannot know. My guess is
that we’ll never know the answers to most of these questions, but maybe, just
maybe we’ll catch a glimpse.
__________________________________________________
18 March 2020
Day 3 –
dependencies
It was going
to be a ‘soft’ start: just one hour of online teaching, and a co-teaching project
hour at that. Nothing too challenging. We moved around some furniture in the
guest room, so I could have a proper workspace. After all, nobody really knows
how long this will go on for. Three weeks is what they say now, but literally
nobody believes that. Desk set up, computer in place. No internet reception.
Turns out the guest room upstairs is a bit of a blind spot.
I move back
to the kitchen table and get online. I have not been added to the classes I’m
supposed to be teaching. Trying to text the colleague in charge, my phone stops
working. Thankfully, a restart and some messages later, I’m ready to go. But I’ve
not heard from my co-teacher and he doesn’t respond to my messages. Nor has he
sent me the code to join the Google Meet. And where is the assignment for the
students? Without going into further detail, suffice it to say this was not a ‘soft’
start. We depend on technology and on our colleagues. When they don’t come
through for us, we’re screwed.
Outside, there
is a lot of hustle and bustle. Social distancing apparently is not something
the average Amsterdammer believes in. Queueing up at the supermarket, the man
behind me comes so close, I can almost feel his breath. I glare at him and he
looks confused. A friend divulges a great method to repel people who stand too
close: sneeze or cough loudly and they back off straight away - must remember
that next time. In the evening, the students across the road are having a
party. It seems people are treating this lockdown like a holiday. Children
playing outside in groups, their parents standing around chatting. If we want
to contain this virus, we need to take it seriously. Dependency. We can’t do
this alone.
Meanwhile,
friends start posting things about staying positive and maintaining ‘good mental
health’. It annoys me immensely. Why should we be positive, happy, jolly?
People are sick and dying – feeling sad and distraught is entirely appropriate.
I’ve always felt a good dose of escapism helps us through the hard times, but
somehow, I have hardly Netflixed of Youtubed. A lot of the time, I am just
quiet, trying to peer through the fog.
There are, however,
some positive developments, after all. Governments are offering financial
support to businesses and freelancers who are getting into trouble. Spain has
re-nationalised the hospitals, something they should definitely do here too
(and the utilities as well, please). The air is cleaner, dolphins are swimming
in the Venice canals. It makes me dream of a better, fairer, cleaner world. The
stock market is burning, revealing just how ridiculous a gambling scheme that
really is, generally gambling with other people’s money. Of course, it could
all turn out to be a big shake-out, with the 1% coming out even higher on top.
Are we
heading for the Age of Aquarius or a New World Order of a dictatorial nature? I
feel encouraged by the hints of socialism I see springing up. But it all
depends, it all depends, my friends.
__________________________________________
17 March 2020
Day 2 of
lock-down.
Of course,
this is not a lock-down. The trains are still running, many shops are still
open, the market is still happening. In Italy and Spain, you can only leave
your house with special permission. In that sense, we are blessed. Or are we? Nobody
knows what is wisdom. But slowly, we see changes: the railways announced they
will be scaling back the timetables, using mostly local stopping trains. The
big department stores have decided to close up shop. We can no longer go and eat
køtbullar at IKEA. Slowly, everything is grinding to a halt.
Day 2. The
day after the Prime Minister’s address to the nation. The second time ever this
has happened in my lifetime. The PM
impressed me - another premiere. The message, however, has sunk in. Day 2 is
more grim, more pessimistic. I have slept very little and am tired, run down.
My nose is runny, I have a slight cough. It wouldn’t be … couldn’t be …could it?
But no, ‘the sniffles’ is not a Covid-19 symptom.
I have to
travel to work again, in another town, taking another near-empty train and
near-empty bus. At work, they have organized a larger meeting room, so we can
all keep our distance. We talk about long-distance learning and how we are
going to shape that, starting tomorrow. How we can safeguard not only the
students’ learning, but also their physical and emotional well-being. I am
truly impressed by the leadership team. I walk back to the station, so I get my exercise for the day. Still
trying to reach those 10,000 steps!
All day, I
check social media, news sites, even astrology pages, such as the Astrotwins, scouring the internet for
a sign of hope. I find none and cry. I delete Facebook from my phone. I can’t
handle this. Out walking with my beau, we bump into a dear friend. We keep the
prescribed distance, though I so want to hug her. Later, we see her again, with
her love, hanging out of their window, with us standing under it, happy to see
their faces and hear their voices in real life, not virtual reality.
Day 2. A
long day. A roller-coaster of a day. Tomorrow, I start my virtual,
long-distance classroom. It’s all about distance now. And though I’d prefer to
just curl up into a ball, I know I have to keep engaging, keep committing and
fight back the waves of doom that threaten to engulf me. Tomorrow is another
day.
__________________________________________
__________________________________________
Today was the first day.
The first day we were all supposed to work from home, except people working in 'vital' industries. I work in an industry regarded as vital: education, so was required to travel to school. The first day the morning trains were not overcrowded, but almost empty. The first day the people at the kiosk, which was miraculously open, would not accept my travel mug, so I had to accept a disposable cup instead. The first day the bus was empty. The first day I had to congratulate a colleague with her pregnancy by blowing her a kiss from two meters distance. The first time I had to lock up my classroom, not knowing when I would be opening it again. The first day in decades that the word 'solidarity' was used by politicians and commentators on TV.
The first day: a day of wonder and trepidation, curiosity and acceptance.
I think one day in the not-too-distant future we will look back on this first day and realise how naive we were. How innocent of the knowledge that our lives would never be the same again, could never go back to the way things were, even after the virus had been defeated.
This first day will be followed by many days, flowing into weeks and months, one day at a time, each day a step into a new reality. This will be the biggest challenge: when the novelty has run out, will we find each other or drift further apart? Will we find new ways of connecting or hide ourselves in a virtual world? Will we adjust well to living a sparser life? Will it perhaps suit us better than the rat-race we've been living, surrounded by an avalanche of indeterminable and interminable tat, forever chasing bigger dreams?
Day one, or should we call it day zero? The dawn of a new era, the apocalypse, or a bit of both - a kind of purgatory? Things will move fast, but feel slow. We will need to be brave. We will need to be kind. And, we will have to learn to just be.
Courage, mon brave ..
ReplyDelete