It’s been a while, right? Or has it? I can’t remember. This week is number 12 in self-isolation for me. I have found it difficult to find motivation to write about my experiences because some of them have just left me in such a state of reflection, and some have felt almost too personal to share. The connection you can have with a perfect stranger sometimes feels more intimate than one with any internet friend right now. There is something to be said for the state of the world at this very moment; times are hard, the answers aren’t there, and it is a time of civil unrest. The small solace QuarantineChat has been providing has eased the racket in my brain even if just for a short while. I spoke with a librarian in North Carolina, who was telling me it’s been difficult knowing that even though the local library provides so many resources for the community, that they aren’t available right now. She did mention, however, that she was looking forward to the restrictions being lifted to get back to putting on summer programs and having services such as free internet be available again. She told me she’s been using her spare time to learn Spanish and hone in on her cooking skills, which is a common theme I’ve noticed in the calls. So many people I’ve been connected with are working on those two skills that maybe there should be a separate chat line just for those topics. Funny enough, our call happened while I was cooking dinner myself — a chickpea curry. I was connected with a man living in Denver and we almost instantly connected over our mutual love of Hunter S Thompson, traveling, and reading. He told me he was doing a 66-day challenge where he was taking time to read 10 pages of whatever book he was on a day. I admitted to him I was having a hard time finding a way to motivate myself to read (I may end up trying this method). We suggested a few books to each other (Neal Cassidy’s ‘The First Third’ for example) and talked about what we were looking forward to doing once restrictions started to ease. He suggested some places to visit, including Thailand and Mexico, and we half-heartedly joked about how I’ll plan those trips for when “things get back to normal.” Increasingly, it’s hard to imagine a future that’s normal at all. Another day, I spoke with a woman living in Canada who was telling me one of her 5 daughters was expecting a baby very soon. She shared this almost immediately when I asked her how she was doing, and this news made me feel as excited as if I knew her personally. I could hear birds chirping in the background of the call — it was a sunny Saturday afternoon. It was the perfect background noise for when she told me she was a “terminal optimist.” “It’s innate, I don’t do it on purpose,” she told me, after I had said she had such a positive outlook on things. Instead of talking about the impacts of the virus, she was sharing good news with me like how one of her other daughters just turned 20 and got a promotion at her job, and how excited she was for her grandchild to arrive. I found myself grinning ear to ear during the course of our call — she had such an absolutely positive energy that stuck with me. It’s that positive energy that QuarantineChat fosters. I’ve told many a user I’ve been connected to that I’m sure people who are inherently rude or antisocial would’ve never downloaded the app in the first place. I can hear the people I speak with smiling through the phone when they share good news with me, and I can hear that they’re honest when they share struggles they’re experiencing just the same. We can’t all be terminal optimists, but we can open ourselves up to hearing from those who are and celebrate each other. Whether it’s a quick 5 minute chat to check in with a stranger about if they’re holding up okay, or a 2 hour call about nothing in particular, there’s a kind of magic held in those moments that I think is what keeps us all coming back. Here’s to terminal optimism.
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Sometimes, we forget what it is we’re thankful for. It’s so easy to take for granted that our basic needs are met but on top of that, to forget the feelings of joy we have throughout the day. For me, I feel joy when I wake up to put the kettle on and get to sit on my couch with my cat Bean. I feel joy when I accomplish more than expected during another day of working at home. I feel joy when I whip up a better-than-average dinner out of pantry staples. I feel joy to simply be in the moment, when I can manage that.
For one of my QuarantineChat partners this past week, he said he feels joy when practicing meditation. “Mindfulness allows me to face my thoughts and address them as they come up,” he said. He also told me that for Portland Oregon, they were having good weather for a week or so, which was a silver lining. Another positive was that he still had a job, with a position in hotel management. “We began seeing [the impact of COVID] happen over a month ago, and [I remember] getting the first call where a group was cancelling a reservation,” he said. “Managers report to me and I had to immediately be responsible for deciphering what they can all see is happening.” It was this situation that led him to realize that there were “varying degrees of acceptance happening” all over. He mentioned that his generation lived through 9/11 and the 2008 financial crisis in a way that they were heavily impacted, while the younger generation may not be accepting what is happening now because it’s such unfamiliar territory. He shared that lifestyle changes he’s made, including meditation, have been helpful during these stressful times. “I had the misconception that my thoughts were making [meditation] too difficult,” he said. He suggested a few programs and apps for mindfulness meditation, including the ‘Waking Up’ app, and stressed that the concept of mindfulness allows one to process thoughts instead of trying to get rid of them. At the end of our call, we shared what we were looking forward to once quarantine was over. “Locally, I just want to be able to see some concerts,” he told me. “And Portland is beautiful outdoors and it’s the best time of year here. The coast is beautiful and we’re only about an hour and a half away and when the weather is like this, you want to go to the coast.” We both agreed that we miss seeing people out hiking, waiting in line for brunch tables outside in the nice weather, and meeting in coffee shops. “I want that back. I want to see that whole community come back,” he said. The next day I spoke with a man living in France, in a small village that he said only has about 4 cases of COVID-19. “I’m getting used to it,” he said. He’s self-isolating, and moved to France a year ago from Sudan. He dreamt of living there, and to go to the London School of Economics. We spoke a lot about our dreams throughout the call. He shared with me that he is trying to move to Canada when quarantine and the risk of COVID is over, because he says it’s the best place for refugees. “I feel like I’m wasting time over here. It’s been about 17 months,” he said. He told me that he’d spoken with someone through QuarantineChat who was an immigration lawyer and was able to give him some advice for his future plans of seeking refuge. “I used to get nightmares because the political suppression in Sudan was so bad. I’m an asylum seeker,” he said. “I’m trying to help my family and make something for my mother because she gave us all she can give.” Like all of us, he said he’s looking forward to when this ends. He wants to get back with his family, because he is only talking to them about once a month since any more contact than that can be risky. To pass the time, he said he stays up through the nights watching movies, teaching himself to cook, and he told me that deep down he thinks he’s improving because he made a pretty successful pizza. “The good thing about quarantine is that it gives us an opportunity to get deeper into our social lives,” he told me. “People are getting to know their families more. Before this, everyone was busy with work and no one was forced to talk to their families or those around them. It’s the better side of quarantine.” Even though he says the people in France are very kind and easy to talk to and be friends with, he’s still struggling being by himself. “I’m a really strong person, so it’s ok for me. At first it was really hard but I’m getting used to this; the moment I left [Sudan] I knew I’d be struggling a lot. When you teach yourself, ‘this situation is temporary, it will end soon,’ you become more strong and feel more optimistic.” “Eventually I feel like I will meet up with my family,” he told me. His other goals include creating a tourist company that brings people to Africa, because he feels like people are missing out by not traveling there. “I want to make something for the continent,” he said. “I’m still not sure if that dream will come, or if I will be waiting a long time. At the moment there’s no way to know how long all this will last.” We spoke about how the current situation has given us a chance to reflect on the fact that our lives before all this was a blessing, but people had no idea how good they had it. “Even our annoying friends were a blessing,” he said to me, laughing. “Going out to meet with friends and family, even going out and walking in the streets... all of these are blessings, but we didn’t even know that. After this finishes, we will give more attention and value to our lives than before. And even those annoying friends, we’ll think they’re cool. We’ll say we even missed them.” Other than cooking and watching movies, he said he’s trying to improve his French and has also been rearranging his furniture not only to change up his space, but to do a bit of exercise, too. “I move my wardrobe from my bedroom to my kitchen like it’s a workout.” He gave some advice on staying sane during quarantine. Other than intentionally making a mess around the house to have something to clean, he recommended a ‘to do’ list hung where you wake up and see it, to remember what you have to or want to do. This week, I’ve made myself a to do list, and am looking forward to checking some things off of it. On this list are simple, little things like looking up recipes and reorganizing a bookshelf. Another line item is perhaps trying mindfulness meditation. Namaste. This past week makes it one full month of being in self-isolation for me. It is strange, uncomfortable, and sometimes frustrating, and it feels like every day another piece of earth-changing news comes out. The uncertainty of it all is seemingly the only constant at this moment.
The QuarantineChat calls I’ve gotten these past weeks have been a great way to take my mind off of most things, and connect with people who are living through the same thing as I am, but experiencing it in a totally different way. I’ve been in need of a perspective shift, because as the elusive “peak week” seems to be approaching, a sense of gloom and doom is unshakeable. I spoke with a retired IT consultant living in an RV in sunny Florida with his Bichon Frise Boeing, or Bo for short. “He’s a wonderful companion,” this man told me. “He’s everything I wanted him to be— he’s so cool.” Bo will be 6 this June. “I’m probably impacted [by the virus] the least. I’m so, so lucky,” he told me. To pass the time, he’s been golfing and oil painting. His friends were on their way over to him during the course of the call to all go on a socially distant walk together. He expressed to me it was important to stay feeling young, and that he hates the idea of aging, being 72 now. “The only thing I have to worry about is getting old, and I hate it. I can’t tell you how lucky I am to have my lifestyle at my age. I’m very lucky; I have friends I’ve lost, or who are sick, or can’t do what I do.” Other than fearing getting old, and not really fearing the Coronavirus much at all, he told me that his “biggest little regret” is not learning how to dance, and that he would’ve learned to golf when he was younger instead of now. “I had a longer list of regrets, but now I dwell on the positive,” he said. “I’m trying to hold on to this world.” The next day I spoke with a man in Dubai who is self-isolating and living alone. He said he was working from home, sending emails and coding but it was different than his usual tasks because a lot of his work involves face-to-face meetings. In his free time, he said that he makes and edits videos that are mostly social commentary about society and family, and that he values social media platforms like Facebook and Twitter for being able to keep up with the news. “Instagram is only about appearance, and shows the brightest side of everyone’s life,” he said. “Before quarantine I followed accounts that posted food, and businesses and other places. Sometimes the pictures put pressure on you because they are all about going outside and hanging out with other people and I’m just here, indoors.” We joked that everyone has ‘FOMO’ now more than ever. He told me he started really learning English about 2 years ago, because while learning it in school in Egypt, he didn’t take it too seriously as a kid. “I downloaded this app to speak with people from diverse countries,” he said. “I want to talk to people about what’s going on and how they’re feeling.” We ended our call by discussing what we are thankful for, and I told him that I just felt really lucky to have my health and my job. “I hope your luck continues,” he said, and then told me that he feels lucky to be able to work and spend his extra time slowing down and using it to enjoy the little things. It’s been difficult to feel motivated to do, well, anything lately but being able to share with strangers a sense of gratitude has been uplifting. Other calls in these past few weeks have left me with lists of suggestions of movies, books, websites, and even meditation techniques. We’re all finding our own ways to enjoy the little things, or at least not totally lose our minds. I’m lucky to be able to step out on my literal balcony and get fresh air, talk to a stranger about what I miss the most, and find ways to pass the time. To slow down. To dwell on the positive. This past week was my third in self-isolation. It has become increasingly more and more surreal, having the routine I thrive off of still not reinstated. However, no matter how strange and unusual things are, I pick up every QuarantineChat call (well, I’ve missed less than 5 over the past weeks) to create a sense of routine, even if just for that moment.
I was connected with a man in Vancouver, who was in retirement and as he put it, ‘semi-solitude’ for the last 9 years, but that this was different. “I enjoy people,” he told me, and lamented that he missed his friends at the gym but he didn’t even know their last names — those people were just a part of his routine so he hadn’t thought to ask. He told me he bought himself an exercise bike before the stay at home order was put in place, though. He was thankful for it. He read me a poem, Bill Stanford’s ‘One Time’, and said he encourages people to write haikus. I agreed it was a good idea, and told him I’d jot a couple down as they came to me. I’ve done so a handful of times since, and made a routine out of that, too. The next day, I spoke with a woman living in Mississippi. She told me that she’s worked from home for a long time, doing client service for Apple, but now that her neighbors were home all the time, they’d been barbecuing non-stop and it was a distraction. “I’m tired of eating barbecue,” she laughed as she told me. However, she added that there was definitely a big sense of community where she lived and that people really seemed to be connecting with their families more. “It’s weird, but nice knowing you’re not going through this alone,” she said. We agreed that self-isolating can be lonely, even though she has 3 kids herself. Her children’s father looks after them part of the time, so that she can get work done. Earlier that week, they had had a ‘learning day’, which ended up involving a mid-day break to make and eat Alfredo pasta. We both agreed that was a justifiable reason to put learning day on hold for a moment. She told me that once all “this” was over, she was looking forward to using her PTO to travel, to “go somewhere and give myself a break.” She said she dreams of going back to Jamaica, where the culture and people were “amazing.” She also told me she was going to take her kids out somewhere to go learn how to ride bikes. A lot of our conversation was about the future, which was refreshing. We discussed how the general outlook on this whole thing seems to be trying to spread as much positivity as possible. At this point it was 9:30 PM EST and yet another barbecue was starting up. “It’s non-stop parties with people out of work,” she said, “and even the cops come by. They’re from the community so they know everybody. And the candy lady sells everything, even single cigarettes.” Even though the uptick of noise from this was unwelcome, she said she “hopes the good parts stick” where she is, and everywhere, because it’s bringing people together. “I can’t wait to be an old person, sit on my porch with some sweet tea, and tell the story of how this [virus] impacted the world,” she told me. “But not before taking a road trip to see everywhere in the country, first.” I walked away from these two calls in particular feeling like I should start looking forward to the future. It made me want to rethink what a routine can be, even if it’s just talking to strangers, writing haikus, and imagining future trips. I’m grateful for the bits of wisdom those strangers give to me maybe without even realizing it, especially in a time like this. Today, the sun says “Hello”, boldly, to me and I don’t squint my eyes Being in quarantine is difficult, even if we can make jokes and find the silver linings. This past week every time I would get a QuarantineChat call, I felt a wave of what I could only describe as relief. I connected with someone as close as one state away, who was feeling a sense of relief herself being alone after the person she was quarantined with left to go be with their family. She said she was glad to have her place to herself, even though she did enjoy having a friend there. We both like horror movies but agreed that right now, the world was scary enough on its own, so we wanted more wholesome content, like Animal Crossing and jokes on Twitter.
I spoke with a woman my age who lived in Bogota, Colombia. She told me that since public transport was shut down, the usual smog was lessened and she could see the mountains outside her window more clearly. She later sent me a photo—it was a lovely view. ‘We have food, we have internet, we have a roof,’ she said to me; we were going to be good, both she and I. It turns out she had lived in the state I was born in before moving to Colombia, and we shared our feelings about our respective political systems and how we were occupying ourselves while isolated. Even though times were dark, I found myself laughing and having a conversation that felt like meeting a new friend. These experiences left me feeling lighter, joyful even. I was connected with a woman getting her MBA in business and she said shifting her courses to be online was a tough transition. She lived in Portugal and she asked if I had been there. I haven’t, and she said, ‘Not yet, and not anytime soon, but hopefully.’ I could hear seagulls in the background as she was telling me that she and her family were all in an apartment together for the last 2 weeks and joked to me saying that the virus may not kill them but… the close quarters were stressful. The following day, on the other side of the line was a man living in Egypt who’d learnt most of his English by reading electrical engineering textbooks for his trade. He told me a lot was changing, and how he misses going to the airport and when all of this is over, he’s looking forward to visiting his good friends in Morocco. ‘It’s just life, it’s destiny,’ he told me. He talked a lot about fate, and as we were saying our goodbyes he said, ‘We should, we must stay inside.’ By some strange twist of fate, a woman my age in Austria moved into her new apartment, alone, just two weeks ago. She told me she didn’t even have a fridge yet but she would by Tuesday. We laughed about it, saying that by the end of this our homes were going to be so clean due to boredom, but we wouldn’t even be able to brag because everyone else was spending their time cleaning, too. All of these connections made this time of self-isolation feel a little less lonely. Everyone I spoke with had some privilege like me, with a roof and food and resources, however sparse, to last them at least for the time being. We were able to focus on our conversation instead of the world at large, even when speaking about the crisis. This experience has allowed me to step outside of myself, my apartment, my state, my country, and share parts of myself with strangers who are doing the same. It truly feels like we are all in this together. We should, and we must stay inside, but when all of this is over, I want to be able to still step outside myself. Well, here we are. A few weeks ago, I heard whispers of countries across the globe enforcing measures like social distancing and even complete quarantines to contain the spread of COVID-19. I was on my way home from work when I heard a few brief moments of an interview on NPR with the people behind QuarantineChat, a service that randomly connects you with another person in the world who is in self-isolation. I thought it was a neat idea, but since I was not self-isolating at that time, I didn’t think I should download it, at least not yet. In that moment, I was under the impression that I would maybe never even have to self-isolate, but now I know how naïve that was.
I’ve been working from home and self-isolating since Monday 3/16. I have remained indoors for the vast majority of this time. I am lucky to have a partner and cat to keep me company, but I downloaded DialUp and signed up for QuarantineChat just to see what it was like. When my first call came in at 5:45 EST on Monday, I was ecstatic. My heart was racing – I was nervous, for some reason. I picked up anyway, and was connected with a man in London who was self-isolating with his wife, but he said they were even quarantining themselves from one another a lot of the time. We didn’t share our names, but we shared more than I would have thought. I’d visited the area he lived in while I was in London last year, he’d been to New England, where I live, and we discussed topics like my cat, his favorite French wine bar, and healthcare systems. I walked away from the interaction feeling …good. It’s hard to describe. There’s some joy that comes from sharing a brief interaction with a perfect stranger. The next day, I spoke with a man in Indiana who was recently (as in, it happened that week) unemployed due to the lack of job stability in service industries right now, and later that evening I spoke with a woman in Ecuador who was in complete quarantine with her roommates, but she said it wasn’t so bad because they were cooking a lot and planned to have dance parties together to stay active. There’s something really beautiful about a community of people who’ve decided to talk to strangers in this turbulent time. I’ve had only a few degrees of separation with everyone I’ve spoken with, and have been able to find common ground. Right now, being online and interacting with people can feel overwhelming. Even the good news sometimes feels like a drop in the bucket. However, as sappy as it is, those videos online of people in Italy and Spain on their balconies singing, dancing, and interacting make me a little choked up. Where I am, I don’t have a community like that right outside my window, but I don’t need it. I can use QuarantineChat as my virtual balcony. |