Day 100 – Searching for the silver lining

It’s 100 days since SA locked down. In that time, we’ve done the hard yards of Level 5, the only-ever-so-mildly-easier yards of Level 4* and then slipped into the sloppiness that is Level 3 (and then “Advanced Level 3” – which nobody quite understands).

Cigarette sales are still bizarrely banned, but other than that, life is going on pretty much as usual, albeit (mostly) with masks.
That and, oh yes, the virus being more prevalent and deadly than ever before.

Much has been made of England’s decision to reopen pubs and restaurants this week, but that’s an example of one of the “impossible” choices that Governments have had to make when balancing infection rates and jobs (in this case in the remnants of the hospitality industry). Those individuals whinging and whining on social media about how it’s “too soon” and “too dangerous” may have a point, but also clearly have no concerns about the close on a million jobs in pubs, restaurants and hotels in the South East of England alone. And yes, there will be spikes in infections as people start to interact more normally again, but we’re going to see spikes all over the world for (probably) years to come. We cannot wait for a the chance of a vaccine before we start to open our economies again.

In fact, South Africa didn’t even have the luxury of waiting until the infection rate began to level out. Our fragile economy meant that the lockdown had to be relaxed right as the virus started to take hold: a perfect storm of natural infection and enhanced movement and social interaction, all in one. Wonderful.

And it is still going to get (much) worse here before it starts to get any better.

It’s easy (and natural) to look at the past 100 days and see the despair, the disasters and the difficulties. It’s been a truly horrendous few months. And – perhaps because it’s such low-hanging fruit – everyone has done it. Regularly. Often. I are also guilty.

So, with 100 days chalked up on the cell wall, I wondered about looking for any positives that have come out of the situation. I’ll start by warning you that there aren’t many, but that doesn’t mean that they should be overlooked. There may be a lot of clouds, but some of them must have silver linings, right?

The enhanced sense of community is something that I have noticed. The acceptance that this situation is bigger than any of us, and that we need to work together to help one another. From friendly tips and offers to help on the local Whatsapp groups, through charities benefitting from people having more time to assist, to a greater appreciation of those services and individuals who have been working to keep things going – as much as has been possible – throughout.

Peace and quiet: fewer cars on the road and an overnight curfew meant that we could hear birdsong during the day and the Spotted Eagle Owls in the darkness. Caracals didn’t get killed on our roads, penguins took over Simonstown. Dolphins returned to Table Mountain.

THERE WERE NO TOURIST HELICOPTERS FLYING OVER MY HOUSE EVERY TEN MINUTES AND IT WAS GREAT!

Seriously, check the carbon footprint on that particular experience, guys.
And then stop it. Permanently.

Family time. Forced to spend time together, we… actually spent time together. We played games together, we exercised together (sometimes in the living room, sometimes in the garden, sometimes (when we were allowed) in the real world! We even spent (online) time with other families, doing stuff like quizzes and virtual evenings out.

We had to find new ways to work: restaurants did deliveries, supermarket apps upped their lousy game to be slightly less lousy, we supported local businesses and stores where we could. Not carrying your laptop to a different desk on the other side of the city each morning and then back again each evening became a thing. (Some) schools successfully managed to teach their students. Technological progress was fast-tracked and shaky, but (mostly) held together.

I understand that these positives don’t outweigh the huge negatives which the country has had to endure, and also that for many people, there has been no bright side at all. We’ve been lucky in that we have the means – and the space – to generally handle what this situation has thrown at us so far.

But that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t try look for the good bits of what has happened over this last 100 days: this whole state of affairs is overtly negative, and will quickly drag you down unless you cling to the occasional positive. So that’s what I’ve tried to do here.

I’ve decided that The Lockdown Diaries posts will continue for the moment – at least until life returns to normal. (lol!)

That might be a while yet, but together, somehow, I’m confident that we’ll make it.

 

* there was still no alcohol

Day 55 – Places to go

Since we’re still not allowed out (much), I’ve had a quick scoot around some places you can go on the internet.

First off, I watched the Headstock stream marking the 40th anniversary of the death of Ian Curtis (I mentioned it here). UWS have posted the video on Youtube.
I highly recommend it, but if you only have a few minutes, then Kodaline (@1:14:35) and and Elbow (@1:50:26) were particular highlights. Also, some great interviews with Steven Morris and Bernard Sumner. Sadly, there were technical issues with the choir version of Love Will Tear Us Apart as the finale, which was rather disappointing and frustrating.

Next up, remember when I accidentally drove through the Addo National Park?

I knew you would.

SANParks have a live streaming camera set up on one of the waterholes there, so you can live vicariously through their lens.

LINK

It is live and wholly unedited, so you might not see anything when you click through, but we spotted warthogs and an elephant there yesterday.

And if the Eastern Cape isn’t your thing, you can find other SANParks cameras here.

Or, go and read this piece on why Cape Town has 10% of the the cases of Covid-19 on the whole African continent. (Can/could any other city claim a similar honour, worldwide?)

They mention tourism and three “super-spreader” events in their analysis, but the tourism thing wouldn’t have resulted in such a late surge of cases (from early May), given that there were no flights into CPT for 6 weeks before the graphs started to look quite so scary. In addition, my contacts at the local NHLS labs say they are only aware of one of the three “hotspots” mentioned in the article, so I’m not sure what’s going on there.

Our kids are meant to be going back to school from the start of June, but the messages are all horribly mixed-up. By that point, the situation in Cape Town will be worse than at any point so far, we will still only be allowed out for 3 hours exercise each morning, and for essential shopping. We won’t be allowed out in open spaces like on beaches or the local National Park. The 8pm-5am curfew will still be in force.

But our kids will be ok to sit next to each other and in front of several teachers for 5 hours each day at school?

How does that even begin to make sense?

If we’re meant to try to avoid contracting the virus – for our own safety and for the good of the healthcare systems – then lock us all down. Don’t sent the kids out to catch it and bring it back into our homes. And yes, I know that stats about kids getting it less and spreading it less. And that’s great. But books, pens, folders, bags etc…
And less isn’t zero. Kids staying at home can’t spread what they don’t have.

But if you should have a health problem that puts you into a high risk category for Covid-19, the Department of Basic Education shares this little gem:

“Parents with chronic conditions are encouraged to not come into close contact with their kids that are attending school.”

Right. Easy and straightforward.

The piecemeal approach that’s currently being vaunted is ridiculous and contradictory. Either lift the lockdown (which clearly isn’t working here at the moment anyway) and send the kids to school, or keep everyone home.

It’s the dichotomy that pisses me off.

And what about teachers who fall into high risk categories?
Eish, don’t get me re-started.

I appeared to have digressed a bit. Sorry.

Right. One more idea: go and do a virtual tour of a famous museum or gallery and learn about some paintings. I wandered around the Eiffel Tower yesterday. Great views. Very quiet.