Lockdown Diary: Week 6
Yep, that’s six weeks
By now most people both at home and in the compound as a whole are relying on some sort of routine to get them through the days. For me, I get up, give Keira breakfast, then stride two laps around the compound before starting work. As I walk around every morning I tend to see the same people walking or jogging, we give each other a nod of recognition, or as best I can recognise them when everyone still has masks on.
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Are we nearly out of this? It is difficult to tell. Cases in our compound have finally stopped cropping up, which at least means that technically the clock is ticking towards opening again. But on the never-ending rumour mill that is WeChat we hear lots of horror stories — all deliveries being stopped again, testing every day, 14-day thresholds being ignored. It feels like the authorities are giving it one last hardcore push to stamp out the cases that still remain, so that they can then give the ok to start living again. And of course the issue with not being let out is that even if we could go out, there is nowhere to go. Nothing is open.
I hope it is one last push. Some decisions also smack of authorities wanting to prove that they are doing something, regardless of whether it is actually effective or not. Apparently now if you have a case you are still taken off to separate quarantine facilities, but then so are your neighbours…and the people on the floor above and below. I mean what is that trying to achieve?
Most of the time I am pretty calm about it all, but I have one weak spot — on the rare occasion that the front door bell rings. Usually it means someone has left a delivery outside, but there is always that thought at the back of your mind — what if they’re coming to take us away? It could be people in hazmat suits wanting to escort you to quarantine. I have had so many tests I don’t bother checking the results any more, so in theory I could have turned positive without knowing it. That bell ring will trigger a reaction in me for a while yet I feel.
Talking to one of the other dads in the playground one afternoon he said that the night before some of the residents had actually started having a party outside — a few had beers, some had music. There was actually a lively atmosphere building until someone called the police, and everyone hotfooted it home. Many in the West cannot understand why people put up with these decisions, but they don’t realise that still there are a lot of people more scared of the disease than anything else. Start mixing too much, someone will get upset. Take your mask off outside, someone will shout at you. Resentment is building, but don’t think that it has won over yet.
