Love in the Times of Coronavirus

In these times of lockdowns, curfews and social distancing, how adaptable we’re proving to be. Our writing group meets as usual on Thursday mornings, via the Zoom application. 

    Zoom also allows me to exercise three times a week with my Pilates group and our Cuban professor, Alberto. Little by little, I’m creating a home schedule to inject a level of normalcy into my life. On the non-Pilates days, I do exercises on my own. I signed up for a writing course for times of “Uncertainty.” I write. I read voraciously, while my husband cycles furiously upstairs on his stationary bike.

            Though my husband is semi-retired, we usually do not spend much time together during the day, each with our own activities. Now we have fallen into a routine, quite different from when our daily cleaning lady was coming. We make the bed together. I cook, he sets the table and washes the dishes. Yesterday, before he showered, I handed him a squirt bottle of bathroom cleaner and a rag and asked him to clean the shower when he finished. After I finished vacuuming and complained that my back ached, he said he could do that next time. Words I never thought I’d hear! He’s getting a sense of what it takes to keep up a house. We have a ritual these days of watching a Netflix series called “Trapped” set in Iceland. The landscape – white and many shades of grey – lurks, looms (it’s a murder mystery), fascinates and amazes with its unusual beauty.

Another ritual, now more than ever, is watching the news together. The latest news flash was a welcome distraction to us, both animal lovers. Yesterday at 5:30 a.m. a wild puma visited the empty city streets of several neighborhoods, most likely having wandered from the foothills. He looked young (big paws) and disoriented. Animal experts from the zoo were able to sedate him and transport him to the zoo, where, we were glad to hear, he was declared to be in good health and soon to be released back into the wild. Amazingly, another puma was sighted today in another residential neighborhood!

 Now I fantasize a futuristic scene (not too far into the future), the city in total lockdown being visited by an assortment of wild animals: guanacos, foxes, more pumas, condors, ferrets, living in harmony with the human inhabitants. If only we could learn how to tread this earth softly. Are we willing to change our ways? 

The March of all Marches

“March comes in like a lion, and goes out like a lamb.” So goes the saying. Here in the Southern Hemisphere, March brings the final days of summer and soon the first days of fall. March signals the massive return of vacationers to Santiago, massive traffic jams and the start of the school year. It’s the same every year. Well, almost.

       This March the atmosphere is charged with anxiety. Multiple protests and marches are scheduled, which sadly means the continuation of violence and vandalism in the streets which began last October. I agree with what most of the protesters are demanding: improved pensions and greater access to health and educational opportunities. I abhor the vandalism that has sprung alongside these protests – looting, setting fire to museums and churches, destroying property in general. Downtown looks like a war zone, windows boarded up, walls covered with graffiti (“Kill the cops, down with the president, no more tolls”)

        Affected businesses have let employees go, resulting in hundreds of unemployed. Particularly worrying is the lack of respect for authority. In spite of pushing through reforms, the government has been unable to maintain public order in cities throughout the country.

            These worries are compounded by a severe lack of water, due to a 12 –year-long drought. The central valley of Chile, where Santiago is situated, is brown and parched. Farmers are suffering; animals are dying. This has been the hottest summer that I can remember.

            Is there a silver lining to be found in these dark clouds? Some. More bike lanes are being added to major thoroughfares and increasing numbers of Chileans resort to bikes and scooters to get about. New bright red electric rental bikes, owned by Uber, stand clustered at street corners. Most of the metro stations destroyed by protesting masked vandals have been repaired in a period of months. Delicious summer fruits - peaches, melons, grapes - still abound.

            The political situation in the States also has me on edge. I follow the news on CNN daily, hoping for some positive news, something to feel hopeful about. But the November elections are many months away. My hope beyond hope is that the President gets his marching orders.

What to do with all this waiting?  I think of the robin couple that frequents our backyard. Last month their two fledglings were mangled by a neighborhood feral cat, who generously left them on our doormat. A few days later the two robins began building a new nest in our avocado tree. Yesterday I noticed a gawky adolescent robin practicing flight patterns. So what to do when the world feels dark? Do as the robins did: try again.

Will I join the massive march planned for March 8th, International Women’s Day? I don’t like crowds, and my marching days are over. I think. I did go out to march with American women on the streets of Santiago just two years ago to protest the newly-elected U.S. president. I hope, if I do go to the streets again, it will be in celebration – for my two countries.