Porthole

Feels like solitary confinement

RIDVAN




I must preface this with "I'm okay". I was dangerously depressed last night. I'm not well.

30DBC: How has your idea of lockdown/quarantine changed since the beginning of this month?

I was concerned in Taiwan because there was so much uncertainty regarding this particular virus. By the time I left there people were wearing masks on the train (2/25) and increasingly in the streets. The government was being truthful and transparent and calming people down.

But the uncertainty grew when I returned and only had 9 days to prepare for my trip to Spain (3/3). With the breakout in Italy and cases reported in Madrid, my destination and the added stress of a two month trip with no travel or health insurance I cancelled and lost my money.

I was angry at myself; angry at my situation here in an old hotel with shared facilities. There was no place to feel safe. And then the insanity started in Washington, California, New York and the authorities were NOT prepared. No masks, no testing, no tracing? I was much more at risk than I was in Taiwan. Around March 16th, Morocco closed its borders and I probably would've been caught. (My trip was Spain, Morocco, Portugal, Spain).

Eventually the virus spread to here as Mardi Gras and Spring Break partied on. (Except for a cluster in a nursinghome, most cases in Montana are still 20-somethings.) Early numbers didn't look good and places started to shut down which meant I had nowhere to go to talk to people.

By mid-April places stopped doing walk-in-take out, phone/internet orders only and refused cash. I don't have a phone. I use cash. People were starting to wear masks but I was amazed over the furor this created nationally. And crowds packing churches and WalMart? Exposing people like me to greater risks?

And now on the 26th ... still not enough masks, still not enough testing. No transparency about tracing ... Friends certain that the economy is more important than life-and-death because no one they know has died, people in general unwilling to understand physical distancing, locals who think social distancing means they don't have to say hello and smile?

I'm dangerously depressed. I need a hug ... a real one ... I have no idea how long I'll have to wait. Nick gave me two on the 18th. It was great; it was not enough.

I'd love to be in Taiwan where the health system is not overwhelmed, where people understand the importance of masks, tracing, etc. where I'd be able to have a life.

My manager mention today how it was good that I didn't go to Spain. And in retrospect he's probably right. I was to be in northern Portugal or Galicia today before my flight back from Bilbao on May 5th. 9 weeks was going to be a very long trip. Yet, here I am, one of the living dead.

Montana will open slowly. We are fortunate in many ways. Our numbers are 'low' but still 24 times the percentage as in Taiwan. I check the numbers here and worldwide most every day.

I see patterns. I read news updates. My fears of staying here get deeper.

I'd love to get out. But where? What restrictions? Without health insurance? I'd have to buy refundable tickets, try to arrange travel insurance, figure out safe places to stay. Damned if I do ... and damned if I don't.

My poem for today: "April 26: help us hear a particular sound or sounds [52]" 

My flash fiction about an old woman and a plum tree:

STATIC

As winter ends [51] (297w)  (18+) <300 flash fiction prompt: plum, window, lace #2220210 by Kåre เลียม Enga

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