Life in the Time of CoVid-Day 2 Lockdown
Saturday, March 28th: Day 2 of Lockdown
The sun is shining, birds chirp, and the small garden outside our window awaits. Last night, after a long day and night spent sitting—mostly reading through Corona Virus news and updating family and friends. And of course clicking on posts marveling at the quick-witted jokes and parodies this pandemic is inspiring.
By nightfall, my rump was so sore, I felt as though I’d been paddled (not in a good way.) I woke committed to changing that. I mentally scheduled exercise breaks, which include a daily socially-responsible walk. Curtis and I made a plan to only buy enough food for each day so we would have an excuse to walk to the shops.
During the Lockdown movement outside the home is restricted to shopping for food, pharmacy, doctor visits and Government aide offices.
“Gloria” our hostess at Manderley Lodge
This morning, Gloria greeted me then followed with “This is the third day, you must wear a mask when you go to the shops.” I started to respond, “we don’t have masks,” then stopped. It dawned on me what she meant by “3rd day.” This was the 3rd day after we flew here from Port Elizabeth. The third day—one of the contagious days—if we had contracted the virus during our time at the airport, in the airplane, or the taxi to her guest house….the 3rd day since we arrived at her door. Had she taken us in, fed us breakfast and sorted us out since Wednesday night beneath a threat that we might be carrying the virus?
I looked at Gloria with renewed gratitude. It dawned on my then why the travel agent had had such a difficult time finding us a place to stay. Were we carrying CoVid-19?
A short-while later, Gloria passed me her phone by laying on the table and calling to me. “You should read this,” she said.
“Do not leave home for bread/rations/or for anything, unless it is of DIRE NECESSITY because THE WORST PHASE BEGINS, the Incubation Period gets Over and may Positives will start to come out...From March 23 to 7th April we must take care of ourselves. The Peak of the Virus is two weeks, normally in these two weeks all infected will appear then there are two weeks of calm and then two weeks it will decrease . . .TILL 7th of APRIL do not receive visits from anyone, not even from the same family. This is all for the good of all.”
The time difference between South Africa and the US is at least 6 hours, so I had until about 1:00 pm, when the digital NYT arrived in my inbox to feel a tad claustrophobic and sorry for myself that we were confined to the yard, that we hadn’t stayed with Shona & Charles—that I had only 1/2 a bottle of wine.
Then I read this article: “We Take the Dead from Morning to Night" by FABIO BUCCIARELLI and JASON HOROWITZ.
So what if we spend the next week eating sandwiches and drinking water? We will stay in for as long as we could be contagious. WE WILL NOT PUT ANYONE ELSE AT RISK! We may have sore rumps, but they will heal.
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Life in the Time of CoVid-Lockdown
Lockdown Countdown—Better Get Ready!
We had watched President Ramphosa’s speech, and listened as others discussed what National Lockdown meant curiously, as one watches Survivor programs. After all, this was our last full day in South Africa. We were still on schedule to fly out the next evening…
Monday morning brought a text message from British Airways. Our flight had been cancelled. We scrambled to devices. While I sat on hold waiting for an airline rep to come on the line, Dave and Les, set to depart Tuesday for Australia called Qantas to check their flights. They were on schedule and proceeded to pack. We set about rebooking on another airlines. A few hours later, we had it all worked out, again: We were rebooked on Ethiad from Johannesburg, set to leave Tuesday, about the same time as Dave and Les. Even better, we could all drive to the airport together. Problem solved. When we told our kids about the change in flights, they said maybe we should stay. We laughed, “hah-hah.”
The next day, spectators in the mad-dash to stockpile, we did a little exit-buying. A dress for me; chutney and rusks for Curtis; Easter eggs for the grands. Lockdown-schmockdown we’d be gone by then…
Tuesday night Ethiad cancelled our flights. We rebooked on Ethiopian Airlines and took a walk to the beach. By dinnertime, that flight was cancelled, too.
Break for Backstory:
We have been in South Africa since March 3. What began, as a jolly holiday-spurred by an invitation to our friend, Charles’ 60th Bash and the 42nd Cape Argus Cycle Tour, the world’s largest timed 110 KM cycling event, has morphed into a new challenge. We were due to depart from Port Elizabeth in the Eastern Cape on March 23rd. For most of our holiday, while the US and much of the world wrestled and worried and battled effects of the Corona virus, we frolicked.
Yes, along with 30,000 from all over the world, we had swapped sweat and the highway and pre-festivities with cyclists, friends, and fans during the Cape Argus ride. Shortly after we’d driven to the Eastern Cape where in a tightly confined, co-mingled group we cavorted largely symptom and worry free. (Of course, every sneeze, wheeze, cough—dry or otherwise—came under suspicion but none of us, and noone we knew of, had or has contracted the virus.)
Port Alfred, where Shona and Charles live, is a gorgeous seaside community. Their home is on a marina even farther removed from the town, an hour or more from the nearest city, and a flight or long day’s ride from Johannesburg (where the CoVid cases until then had been reported.) Furthermore, what we’d read on Corona Virus said that heat and sun destroy it. Our hope was that the warmer temperatures we enjoyed would keep it at bay—at least until vaccines, etc. can be created. This is still my hope.
Back to Monday:
With flights set and days only a few days until Lockdown, I joined Shona on a trip to the “shops.” (The “shops” is what grocery stores, et al are called. “I’m going to the shops.” “What do you need from the shops?” “No loo paper left in the shops.”) That day, after SA President Ramphosa announced the National Lockdown, felt like the days before Christmas. Everyone had rushed to the shops to buy, buy, buy supplies. Even though every news report promised food stories and pharmacies would be open and food would be available during the lockdown, the frenzy was on. Rosehill mall, has two big shops: Woolworths or “Woolies” which, like a smaller version of Walmart with groceries and a little of everything else and Spar which is like any regular grocery store, with many boutiques in-between. Several of the smaller shops were already closed. Woolies shelves were wiped out. The meat fridge empty. The produce gone. The toilet paper…never mind. Spar, likewise, had picked over. There was plenty of milk and milk products, but not much else.
Masked, gloved attendants with hand-sanitizer at the ready, guarded every entrance & exit. As, along with everyone else, I slathered myself, I wondered what effect injecting & digesting so much hand sanitizer will have later…
That evening, our last night all together, Charles, Dave, Curtis and I went out in the sea fishing.
The fishing wasn’t much: we caught nasty poisonous stingy fish called barbles or “seacatfish” that didn’t give much of a fight but gave Charles a nasty poke as he tried to pull them off the hook, and nasty barbed sharks. The highlight of the trip was a rookery of penguins which appeared bobbing and flapping past.
Sure we played, that just as Nero played while Rome burned, we were acting callously—for folks like Charles and Shona, with cars and savings, a 21-day lockdown would be an inconvenience. Their staff, Gloria, Eunice, Edward were freaked. They’d all been worried about catching the virus from us, and rightly so. It had jet propelled to South Africa. But now, their worry was more for their families, what to do with their children trapped in tiny houses for 3 weeks, and how to get food with no buses running…But beneath the fun, we were all worried, worried about them, our families, and the world-wide economy.
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Life in the time of CoVid-1 Day to Lockdown!
At 11:59 Thursday March 26 Lockdown Begins*
Pen poised: Was a time I posted musings on my blog Kelly’s Fishbowl regularly. But like many others who “blogged,” with so many other social media platforms taking attention—especially the more visually-focused—my “read this” missives were superfluous. So, instead I turned my focus to creating/exploring poetry and for the past 132 weeks have been posting, with Cindy Faughnan, poetry prompts called The 7-Minute Challenge.** (If you’re a subscriber, you’ve been receiving—and trying out the prompts yourself.) But that was Life before the time of CoVid-19.
With those of us considered “non-essential” now housebound, “sheltering and “social distancing,” and scratching around for things to do, I’m thinking time might be on my side. Especially as my wings, as of midnight, will be officially clipped. We are in South Africa, have been since March 3rd.
On the day we departed, March 1st, the first case of CoVid in New York was confirmed. The victim was a woman who had flown in from Iran, she was isolating at home with “no serious complications.” Govern Cuomo wasn’t worried, so why should we?
“There is no reason for undue anxiety—the general risk remains low in NY. We are diligently managing this situation &will provide info as it becomes available.”
Must confess having arrived in Capetown, South Africa feeling fortunate to be escaping the Corona “Hype.” Certainly we were concerned. We felt compassion and sadness for all those people in China, Italy, and the Northwestern U.S., but we were feeling mostly immune, removed. After all, we can count the “epidimics” we’ve avoided: Legionnaires in 76, SARS in ‘02, Swine Flu in ‘09, Avian Flu in Indonesia, Zika in Trinidad, even Relapsing Tick Fever in good ole Austin, Tx. Besides, as every one was repeating “The ‘common flu’ kills 250-500 thousand people world wide—every year!”
We’d come to South Africa for holiday, specifically to celebrate with friends and cycle the Cape Argus. A tad giddy upon landing in this then warm, sunny, Corona Virus free country, I was more worried about riding—and finishing The Argus than I was CoVid.
Cheesing at the Start
March 5th we took a long practice cycle in preparation for The Argus. My big complaint: a sore bum. March 5th, the first CoVid-19 case in South Africa was confirmed. The victim was a man who’d flown in from Italy. The man was in quarantine in far off Johannesburg (870 miles away.)
March 12, 16 Confirmed Cases of CoVid in South Africa.
March 15, Sunday, the first locally-transmitted case is reported.
March 15, NYC Schools, Restaurants, Bars closed; number of cases tops 700.
The day after Charles Birthday Bash (an evening of pure revelry), the South African President, Cyril Ramphosa, gave a speech declaring a national state of disaster. We gathered in at the TV to watch as he detailed the measures the government was taking to contain the virus. These included cancelling gathering of more than 100 people, including school, all sporting events & concerts, hand sanitization, social distancing and elbow bumps (with 2 demonstrations). The elbow bump was immediately dubbed “The Cyril.” Laughing we practiced it along with the Chinese hand-shake alternative: Foot Taps.
Later, while speaking with our family back in the US, who were housebound in self-isolation, with school’s already cancelled, we considered ourselves very lucky to be so far from danger. In fact, our kids jokingly suggested (or maybe not so jokingly) that we would be better off staying put. Especially as the number of CoVid-19 cases in New York mounted.
March 22, with 51 confirmed cases in South Africa; 33,334 cases* had been reported in the United States of COVID-19, with 415 deaths.
The South African Government took action. This evening President Ramphosa addressed the nation again. In an eloquent, clear and comprehensive speak, he announced the plan for a national 21-day lockdown. The plan included suspension of travel except to essentials: grocery, pharmacy, doctor, bank & public assistance offices, and no gathering except for funerals (limited to 50 attendees.) All non-essential establishments & places including parks, beaches, etc. Liquor sales were suspended, too (and anyone caught with liquor in their car would be arrested.) Domestic airports would be closed and domestic flights cancelled. All beginning at 11:59 pm on Thursday, March 26th. The country had 4 days to prepare for lockdown.
Following the animal trail to Rhinos
We congratulated the President on taking swift action (much swifter than the US had) and watched as Shona, Charles, their relatives, Port Alfred and the rest of the country stocked up on supplies. The big joke was “toilet paper.” All their Australian friends and family were complaining about the lack—paper printers were even printing blank newspapers to fill in as “loo paper.”
We Expats listened and watched with curiosity but not personal concern. We had been “quarantining” with the same group (pretty much) for weeks. And besides, we were scheduled to fly out in a matter of days: Curtis and I were set for Monday, Port Elizabeth to Capetown to London to JFK departure; Dave & Les were scheduled to leave from Port Elizabeth to Johannesburg and then Sydney on Tuesday. We planned a few last things to do: river cruises, beach walks, fishing, card games, “what’s for dinner?”
March 23rd we were faced with a new reality:
“Breaking: Confirmed coronavirus cases surge to 402 in SA”
*I know, this post is long. Consider it more of a catch up. I plan to post daily through the lockdown, the rest will be shorter promise. (And yes, the 7-Minute Poetry Challenge will continue too.
**The 7-Minute Poetry Challenge officially began March 17, 2016. I can’t say my interest in adding poetry to my days began with Trump, but I do credit Trump for it becoming habit. Creating a poem-a-day began as a challenge between myself and fellow writer, VCFA classmate, Cindy Faughnan. When pledging to devote 7 minutes each day to creating a poem (7 being the magic number of minutes because 5 was too few and who had 10 minutes to spare?), we needed to set a penalty for failing. Then, in the heat of the 2016 Presidential Elections, we could not think of any penalty more horrific that for Donald Trump to win the election. Thus with the penalty for not writing and sending a poem by midnight was set: whoever missed must donate $50.00 to Trump’s campaign and announce it loudly and publicly on all social media platforms. 7-Minute Poetry Challenge set, we commenced writing poems. Needless to say, we DID NOT miss a day and have committed to continue creating a poem-a-day as long as he is in office. (Frankly, I’d be happy to quit, so please help dethrone him.) After more than 400 days of the challenge we began creating prompts to share. Poetry Lab was born.
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Poetry Challenge #132-Little Red Wagons Get Rolling!
The last Wednesday each March is Little Red Wagon Day, a holiday established by Radio Flyer in honor of their Little Red Wagon’s 100th birthday “to encourage kids to get outside, get active and go wherever their imaginations take them.” Let’s give it a whirl—with words!
Poetry Challenge #132
Little Red Wagons Get Rolling!
Norman has a little red wagon—that’s how he rolls! Bennett & Jack have one, too. How about you?
Do you remember bumping along the street pulling a little red wagon? Or maybe, as my brother and his friends did, attaching the wagon to your dog’s leash and trying to get him/her to tow you?
If you had a Little Red Wagon who or what would you fill it with? Or, if you’re the passenger, who’d be pulling the wagon? And where would your adventuring take you? Imagine the rhythm of the wheels rolling along. What does it sound like? What does it feel like?
Create a rhythmic Little Red Wagon poem by first creating a refrain evoking the sound and feel of the ride. See if you can use the refrain three times in your poem. *
Set your timer for 7 minutes
Start writing!
Don’t think about it too much; just do it!
*Social Media inclined: use #LittleRedWagonDay and tag @RadioFlyer to share
**Watch Radio Flyer the Movie!
Cindy Faughnan and I began this 7-Minute Poetry Challenge MORE THAN 1400 days ago! (APPLAUSE!!!) We now take turns creating our own prompts to share with you. If you join us in the Challenge, let us know by posting the title, a note, or if you want, the whole poem in the comments.
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Poetry Challenge #131-The Miner's Lot
Sometimes it’s time to mine your writing for gems. These gems can become a take-off point for a new poem or story. Or, to paraphrase The Byrds:
There is a time, time-time-time/
for every stage-stage-stage/
Of a poe-eeemmmmm/
a time to create/a time to write/
a time to revisit/a time to rhyme/
a time to delete/a time to combine . . .
Poetry Challenge #131
Working In a Poem Mine, Digging Down-Down-Down
Read through some of your older poems. Pick a line or phrase that you like from three different poems. Then put those lines in some sort of order and write a new poem. Add words or lines as needed.
Set your timer for 7 minutes
Start revising!
Don’t think about it too much; just do it!
And, if you, like Mary Poppins, think a song will help the job along. Here goes (and forgive me Lee Dorsey):
Working in a Poem Mine/Digging way down-down/Working in a Poem Mine/Digging way down-down/Working in a Poem Mine—Yeah! I wrote some words down/Working in a Poem Mine . . .
Cindy Faughnan and I began this 7-Minute Poetry Challenge about 1400++ days ago (who’s counting?). We now take turns creating our own prompts to share with you. If you join us in the Challenge, let us know by posting the title, a note, or if you want, the whole poem in the comments.
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Poetry Challenge #130-Let's Here it for Johnny Appleseed!
You know the adage: “An apple a day keeps the doctor away?” Today, in honor of a guy who must have had a phobia about doctors, let’s spread the apple love!
Poetry Challenge #130
Ode to the Apple
March 11th is Johnny Appleseed Day in celebration of John Chapman who in 1797 (and maybe before, but that’s the first recorded mention), traveled around sharing apple seeds, tending ailing orchards—spreading apple (and pear) love. For today’s poem let’s write an ode to the Apple:
Grab an apple, either an actual hold-it-in-your-hand-and-take-a-bite type, or tap into an apple memory to write a poem in praise of apples or Johnny Appleseed.
Choose a nice juicy apple
Set your timer for 7-Minutes
Ready! Set! Bite! . . . WRITE!
Don’t think about it too much—just do it! (If you share it #JohnnyAppleseedDay)
For more about Johnny Appleseed Day: click here.
Cindy Faughnan and I began this 7-Minute Poetry Challenge MORE THAN 1400 days ago! (APPLAUSE!!!) We now take turns creating our own prompts to share with you. If you join us in the Challenge, let us know by posting the title, a note, or if you want, the whole poem in the comments.
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Poetry Challenge #129-#$%^&* Grammar!
Happy ?$&*#@ Grammar Day!
?$&*#@! No, that’s not swearing. It’s punctuation and symbols that tell us something. Grammar! For today, March 4th, is National Grammar Day!
Poetry Challenge #129
$%^&* Grammar!
In celebration of National Grammar Day, write a poem that uses as many kinds of punctuation as possible. Make your poem SHOUT!! Make it whisper. Make it dance. Make it ask? and tell! and order the reader. Can you use commas, dashes, a semi-colon?
Set your timer for 7 minutes
Don’t think about it too much; just feel it!
Start writing!
Cindy Faughnan and I began this 7-Minute Poetry Challenge MORE THAN 1400 days ago! (APPLAUSE!!!) We now take turns creating our own prompts to share with you. If you join us in the Challenge, let us know by posting the title, a note, or if you want, the whole poem in the comments.
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Poetry Challenge #128-Bippity Boopity POEM!
Take out your wand! Your pixie dust! Magic beans! Spinning wheel! Dust off that big ole pumpkin! Hurrah! It’s National Tell a Fairy Tale Day!
Poetry Challenge #128
Bippity-Boppity POEM!
Do you remember the story of the Three Little Pigs? Goldilocks and the Three Bears? Hansel and Gretel? What’s your favorite story to tell?
Today, tell a fairy tale in the form of a poem with 7 syllables (or 7 words) on each line. Can you do it in 7 minutes? Can you tell a whole story in 7 lines?
Set Your Timer for 7-minutes
Unsheathe Your Creativity Quill
Abra-kadabra!
Cindy Faughnan and I began this 7-Minute Poetry Challenge MORE THAN 1400 days ago! (APPLAUSE!!!) We now take turns creating our own prompts to share with you. If you join us in the Challenge, let us know by posting the title, a note, or if you want, the whole poem in the comments.