Day 54: A small taste of freedom

The French are not only known for their food and wine but for their exquisite taste in fashion and fabrics.

A new, highly-sought after fashion item has joined the ranks of the season’s must-have accessories: the mask. At work I had been training people in how to put one on and take one off with the minimum of face-touching and a maximum of hand sanitiser. After several sessions, the skin on my hands is complaining loudly. Must stock up on hand cream. Pretty much everyone is wearing them now and they will be compulsory on public transport as of Monday. It is a strange sight.

Like any haute-gamme piece, there are ranges of quality from cheap knock-offs, to tailored cloth, to designer label versions. One of my workmates sported a Tommy Hilfiger mask. My brother is eagerly awaiting his Game of Thrones “Not Today” mask. I tried without success to find a Walking Dead or Contagion mask online. I settled for very fetching black cloth washable ones as finally, finally pharmacies are selling them. The price is daylight robbery – I paid the equivalent of NZ$35 for 4. They are, however, here to stay till at least the end of the year. As our Prime Minister said “We can not stay in lockdown forever, we must learn to live alongside this virus.”

At least we are officially allowed to come out of lockdown, but very gently and very slowly. The country has been divided into green zones and red zones, red being where the virus is still actively circulating and where the hospitals can’t cope with it. I am in a red zone. Sadly this means that little changes for us just yet other than that we get to travel up to 100km without a declaration.

The best news of all is that the markets are allowed to re-open so long as the local mayor sanctions it and social distancing can be observed. I’m praying that my local market will be open next weekend. Parks, gardens and shopping centres more than 40,000m2 are supposed to remain closed in the red zones, but can open in the green zones, again, so long as social distancing can be observed. Schools and creches will re-open in the green zones but not in the red. Businesses can open and shops can refuse entry to anyone not wearing a mask. I’m hoping this means I will be able to find a Sephora.

Evidently my village forgot the bit about not opening parks. While the main park next to the town hall remains closed, the mayor seems to have neglected the one that I discovered the other day. The lawns need a bit of a mow and it could do with some flowers, but open it is and it is lovely to walk around. I have silently made it my mission to see about the lawns and maybe get some flowers going there.

The borders with other european countries remain closed until at least 15 June (more tears, wailing and gnashing of teeth into my pillow at night). But I am going to hire a car next weekend and enjoy my 100km of freedom. Little steps at a time.

All this is to be reviewed on 2 June, where, all going well, we may be able to progress further. This is the time when restaurants, cafes and bars may be able to re-open. I am hoping so, and praying that the locals here have been able to survive. There are some superb little places, including an italian next to my apartment building which I love. The chef would come out to greet everyone during their meals and he would recognise me because I was usually there so much. I hope, I hope he will survive.

Many have lost their jobs, including where I work. So far I have kept mine and, as one of my colleagues who also kept his has said, “We are blessed.” It will be a tough time emotionally to return to the workplace when we are able. There’s an element of survivor guilt dynamics to process. Even though these are job losses and not death, the ability to get permanent work can be extremely difficult and either with long trial periods or a series of temporary contracts first. So for the people (especially immigrants) so close to getting a permanent contract, this can be devastating. The only thing to do really is to help those left through these emotions so they can lead the survivors and the new workforce coming in.

Of course, all this is in the context of continuing reducing numbers of cases and the hospitals being able to cope. We still clap the health workers each night, they really are the heroes in all this. Working long long hours to try and beat this thing, with doctors making ghastly decisions about who gets the last ventilator available.

The freedom is hard won and we will continue to fight against the virus for it. We have the new normal now, masks and 1m distancing. Alongside the virus, life will return.