RHONA CANOY.
SO… The change in everyone’s lifestyle over the past couple of weeks is radical. And the fact that it is something over which we have little or no control has resulted in fear and negativity. Here’s the thing--those are the only two things over which we have any choice whatsoever.
The community quarantine imposed by the authorities is a decision that comes at great cost. Monetary, yes. But everything else which comes with it affects some of us more than others. Less mobility is the most restrictive. For Pinoys who love to socialize and wander around, having to stay at home is somewhat disturbing. But rather than spend time brooding about it, we do have the choice to change our habits and find something productive to do.
Disinfecting our surroundings goes without saying. Grocery stores and pharmacies have run low on Lysol and chlorine bleach. Which is a good thing. It means people are concerned. Wiping down all accessible surfaces and putting together makeshift footbaths is now a part of daily sanitation for most homes. My chlorine footbaths now serve as welcome mats, both for our front door and for our kitchen entrance. Of course, there is my fear that our dogs will lick the trays and be poisoned which constantly sits on my mind, but so far they’ve avoided the stinky fabric so maybe they don’t like the smell of chlorine either. Except for one who diligently steps in it when he returns home after wandering around the fields.
The greatest concern maybe what to do to occupy ourselves because this looks like it’s going to be our reality for a long time. I have taken up crocheting again, if only because I found my box of threads and hooks. Sadly, I didn’t think to stock up on crafting materials because I had stopped doing it for a while now. My materials are going to run out long before this lockdown is over, and the craft stores that sell them are all closed for the duration.
Which leaves my little tabletop garden. My mulberry trees are thriving and starting to bear their first fruit. Thanks to Master Gardener friend Guy Radaza who provided the seedlings six months ago. But I’m thinking that I should start a backyard garden, although I’m now a bit paranoid about working in the dirt. My vegetable seedlings are starting to sprout and I’m torn between growing them in containers or putting them into the ground. Which, of course, compounds my problem because I can’t get access to my garden soil provider.
It’s not so easy finding things with which to occupy myself. I mean productively. The non-thinking thing to do is to look for something to eat. But then that means I will be morbidly obese before this thing is over. So part of me thinks I have the time to start an exercise program. But even under normal and safer circumstances, that is such a task. To get myself motivated to move around and burn calories is a problem. I don’t know if it’s my age, or laziness, or those two combined. We are blessed to have a large field fronting our house, but I’m not sure how long I can walk around it (three complete circles equals about one kilometer) before it gets tedious.
The beach is not that far from where we are. That’s the great thing about our city. But nobody has ascertained as yet whether the virus survives in saltwater or not. I suppose my mental ramblings will make me wonder whether fish are safe to eat or not. And whether our fisherfolk are safe as they sail. But all the wonderful health benefits of bathing in the sea have taken a back seat to whether it is harmful or not.
I worry about our house staff. They don’t live with us but we need them to be here each day. There is our houseman. He lives half a kilometer from us. He cooks, takes care of our laundry, and generally keeps the house clean. There is our family driver who runs all the errands for my dad who is now housebound and starting to get antsy. There is the audio technician who comes almost every day to put together our Perspective radio program which continues to broadcast despite the current state of affairs. And there is my dad’s caregiver who is absolutely necessary to dad’s well-being.
I sometimes wonder if it is unfair for us to make these people come to work every day. Even if we have decided to subsidize our employees for as long as we can while the quarantine is in place, these guys come each day to make our lives comfortable. Perhaps even at the risk of their own health. Part of me feels guilty. Which takes me back to my garden. Maybe if we succeed at it, then our little community can harvest produce in a few weeks. And that would be nice for all of us.
And there are our chickens. Should I worry about whether they are disease carriers? Or should I be grateful that we will always have tinola, and eggs for breakfast? Too many things to worry about, and too many things to care about. I don’t want to make time for fear to dominate because I would end up locking myself in my room and never coming out.
We have to figure out how we’re going to survive this. Life as we know it has changed forever. Scientists are now saying that CoVid is going to be with us for a very long time. I don’t want to think that society will ever become like those doomsday movies we used to watch, believing it would never happen to us. Well, now it has. Are we going to be desperate survivalists who look out only for ourselves? Or are we going to be kind to one another? I’ve seen the ugly part of humanity at the grocery store, where people argue over the last few bottles of alcohol and bleach.
I worry about the people who must live day to day, who don’t have the capacity to hoard necessities. And I often wonder, if I were in their place, how I would fare. Sadly, if we don’t realize that we all must pull together to survive this pandemic, then we are truly doomed. And the glitter and sunshine part of me will slowly fade into pessimism. But every day brings hope. It’s one more opportunity to keep moving forward, even if things have changed.
Like Little Orphan Annie says, “The sun will come out tomorrow.”
