Ladies and gentlemen, I have survived one whole month in lockdown. One more month to go.
As I reflect on the first month, I can see the emotional rollercoaster this lockdown has brought – the classic change phases, preparation, adjustment (oh, the adjustment), grief cycles, positivity, higher consciousness, small wins, a couple of shocks, and the creativity.
The sense of sheer community that has risen up from this calamity, especially the 8pm claps on the balcony for healthcare workers, online girls nights, online reading, and zoom birthdays, are prime examples of how we’ve adapted to uncertainty.
I still watch Andrea Bocelli’s Milan Easter performance with wonder and awe. I still struggle with my inability to refrain from patisserie delights and the wine aisles. I am most concerned about the disturbing relationship developed with my furry bubble-buddy Bronte. When she starts talking back I’ll let you know and you can come rescue me. If you can get through the borders, that is.
I am grateful to still be able to go out to work each day even though that’s accompanied by a healthy dose of constant vigilance about what I touch, how close I get to people, the ever-growing loss of skin on my hands, and whether my temperature will be elevated that day.
But most of all I am proud of a big achievement that I have been meaning to get to but never had the time. The lockdown has made me focus and carve out the time to write.
I hope you enjoy the observations on expat life from a little kiwi who comes from a little nation of big-hearted people at the bottom of the world. Kia kaha everyone, and “Restez chez vous” (stay at home).
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