Tag Archives: coronavirus

cherry picking

09 Thursday Jul 2020

Posted by in sevilla

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cherry picking

I have been watching Covid developments in Catalunya and the Baleares with interest, as they have recently made mask-wearing mandatory EVERYWHERE outside your home (exceptions: at the beach or pool, doing outdoor sports) and am hoping that Andalucía will follow suit without first waiting for infections to rise, which is likely now that our borders are open again and there is no test & trace programme in operation.

The thing is, as time goes on people are becoming more relaxed about this virus that nobody actually knows much about, not even the experts. And many of these deniers have decided to cherry pick the “expert information” they read or hear about, according to what they want to believe, and accept it as fact. And then expect everyone else to agree with them.

Me, on the other hand, prefer to go by information that is at least backed up by some scientific evidence. I do admit I am often looking for information that will back up my own (sometimes? often?) unpopular opinion – that there is no fucking way we are in the clear yet. Simply because I am often being made to feel ridiculous for continuing to be so careful. For me the biggest mistake made so far by the Spanish government (after not shutting down soon enough) has been reopening the borders immediately after lockdown was lifted, without any sort of test & trace programme, really without any plan other than take temps at the airport. EVERYONE knows by now that many people with Covid don’t have fevers, many don’t present at all, but they are still infectious carriers. Meanwhile other people could have a fever for other innocuous reasons, like having their periods. What is needed is a Covid test upon arrival, and seclusion until results arrive. For starters.

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masking the problem

09 Thursday Jul 2020

Posted by in coronavirus, health & happiness, work

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So I had a two work-related meetings yesterday, both about an hour long, and I was surprised to see that at both places the people I met with weren’t wearing masks. And well, okay, we were seated *almost* a metre apart (the new magic distancing measurement) and nobody was coughing or sneezing, but we all know about transmission from aerosol droplets now, which can stay in the air for up to eight hours. So I sat there uncomfortably until the meetings were finished, slathered sanitising gel on my hands and left.

Then on the way home I decided to see if anyone was at my hairdresser’s. I know they stay open all day and that usually during lunchtime (2-4pm) it is quiet. And so it was. In fact at first I thought they were closed but the owner was outside having a cigarette and came over when he saw me at the door. I told him I just wanted a wash and cut, and he could skip the blow drying, so I was out of there again in about 15 minutes. I noticed that they are now using disposable “towels” and single use plastic capes, but just before I sat down to have my hair washed I said to Joaquín, “aren’t you going to put on a mask?” and he said yes of course, that he just had it off while he was outside, etc. I explained about my immunocompromised situation (he knows about the cancer, been going here for years) and after that he seemed to take even extra care, wiping down the chairs with antiseptic gel before I sat down, so that was good. And while I am never totally comfortable in public places these days, at least I felt precautions were being taken.

But I noticed – and learned – something about those different experiences. At the meetings where I was hoping to get a work offer I didn’t feel like I could mention the mask issue, but where I was a paying customer I felt totally within my rights to request that a mask be worn. And I thought to myself afterwards, is that what it comes down to? That my life is worth less when there is money involved? And so even though I really need the money, I vowed never again. If some people want to believe they are somehow safe from this virus then I guess I will have to keep my distance. Me? I’d rather believe Dr Fauci.

 

missing fucking everything

30 Tuesday Jun 2020

Posted by in casa azahar, coronavirus, sevilla

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missing you

I’m really getting tired of people complaining about how they can’t do this or that anymore, or how they now HAVE to do this or that, like it’s some sort of fucking hardship. Because what they are mostly going on about are minor inconveniences that only privileged people get to complain about, like not being able to go on holiday in the same comfort they are accustomed to or (OMG) having to wear a mask in public.

So I’m not here to complain. But man, I do miss so many things. In fact, I miss almost everything about life pre-Covid. Especially that bit about being able to walk outside without fearing for my life. But mostly I miss people. Which means I really miss my job, because it was all about meeting new people, showing them an amazing time having tapas and walking around my beautiful Sevilla, leaving totally destroyed tables like that one above. It was always a good time. And they even paid me to do it! Oh yeah, also miss having an income.

Meanwhile the only human contact touch-wise since March 11th (after a big hug from Victor in Málaga) has been during two medical appointments. Not exactly affectionate. Yet if I were to meet any of my very huggable friends tomorrow I wouldn’t dare. And so yeah, I miss that too. Big time.

But I’m not complaining. And here’s why. Because over the past three months countless people have died, others have lost loved ones, have lost their jobs, their homes, it’s truly a global tragedy beyond our comprehension. I mean, it must be right, otherwise the fucking Karens and Brads wouldn’t be bleating on about their late online deliveries or not being able to take hand luggage on their holiday flight. Right?? Because otherwise that just makes them the most selfish and despicable pieces of shit I hope to never meet.

I mean I do understand people wanting their old lives back, wanting things to go back to how they used to be, because I think that would be lovely too. But I also know that IT AIN’T GONNA HAPPEN. Surely I cannot be the only person who has realised this and, albeit begrudgingly, has accepted this difficult fact and has moved on to … okay then, now what?? What do we do next? What can we do? To me this is the next logical step.

For me the next steps are just to get through each day as well as I can, and try to think about regrouping and working again… maybe in January? Or maybe I’ll have to reinvent myself once again at the ripe old age of 63 1/2… well, I’ve done it before, many times, but I was younger then and didn’t have dodgy knees. But whatever it takes, you know? Thing is, it’s going to take something that many people may not be prepared for, something called personal sacrifice and empathy. Because nothing is going to be the same ever again, and while I think that in some ways this may not be such a bad thing it sure isn’t going to be easy. Now is the time to realise that we are all in this together. So…

PUT YOUR FUCKING MASK ON.

unsafe travel stickers

25 Thursday Jun 2020

Posted by in coronavirus, sevilla, spain, tourism, travel, welcome

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unsafe
These two so-called “safe travel” stickers (apparently there are others) are being promoted by ICTE and WTTC but do little more then create a false sense of security. Anyone can get one of these online just by PROMISING to obey the protocols. No inspections, no control, no nuthin. Worse than useless, they are actually dangerous.

Since our borders were flung open again this past Monday, the very first day after our three-month lockdown, coronavirus infections have been on the rise throughout Spain.

What has really made me feel sick this past week is seeing people on Twitter discussing their summer holiday plans, saying shit like “let’s go to Spain or Italy, they have way fewer cases than we do!” as if… what?? Think about that for a minute. How is it okay for you to go somewhere without even considering the people who live where you are going? The people you are likely to end up infecting. And who the actual FUCK decides to go abroad on FUCKING HOLIDAY during a FUCKING GLOBAL PANDEMIC? The mind reels.

Just to be clear… I am far from anti-tourism. My entire business relies on tourists, and especially from the UK and US. But we have all seen the whole tourism thing spiralling out of control over the past few years so maybe this had to happen. Problem is that people keep refusing to believe things can’t just go back to the way they used to be. Well, they can’t and they won’t. Because they never should have been that way. So deal.

100 days of solitude

22 Monday Jun 2020

Posted by in coronavirus, health & happiness, sevilla

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unlock

Yesterday marked the official final day of lockdown in Spain. I started counting Day 1 as March 14th, so that makes it 100 days, but I see some other “official” numbers vary by a day or two. Doesn’t matter. For me it’s been 100 days of lockdown, which have been mostly spent alone, until a few days ago when I dared to meet a friend for lunch. Other than that, there’s been no human contact other than at the supermarket. My last hug was on March 11th. The only times anyone has even touched me since then was when I went to have blood taken, and the other day when the oncologist poked and prodded my belly. This has been hard for a girl who loves her hugs!

What else has been hard in terms of lockdown itself? To be honest? Not that much really. Sure I’ve been a bit bored at times (not often), worried, lonely, anxious, but I’ve also been surprisingly patient and even content, making sure my days include things I enjoy (cooking, chatting online with friends, cuddling cats, writing this silly blog) and I’ve even set up a workout routine for those days I don’t get out for a walk. But as I’ve said here before, I’ve already had training for this when I spent a year and a half basically “locked down” by cancer, chemo and several major abdominal ops. And then I read this very good article by Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett which reminded me that I’d also had even more previous training with my agoraphobia, which used to made it impossible to leave my home.

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