Two Days Ago: Quarantine Musings from Spain

Two days ago, I woke up only to find quite a distressing text from my sister: my grandma, who lives on her own, kept going out to buy unnecessary things despite my family constantly warning her not to do it. My aunt does her grocery shopping once or twice a week, so there was really no reason for her to venture outside, without gloves or a mask, into the minefield that my hometown is now. Albacete, the largest city in one of the most virus-stricken Autonomous Communities in Spain, has recently made international news after a video, sneakily filmed by a member of the medical staff at the city’s main hospital, went viral. The video features hospital beds in the corridors, unattended patients lying on the floor, and exhausted doctors and nurses, mostly unprotected, running around trying to cope with the whole situation. My sister, a fifth-year medical student (medicine takes up to six years here in Spain), was both relieved that she wasn’t called into the workforce, and devastated to hear from her professors and friends that the scene was desperately terrifying for everyone on the front line. This relief was, in part, due to the fact that my mother is part of the at-risk population, and bearing in mind that there was not enough safety equipment for medical staff, my sister entering into the workforce whilst living at home could have been fatal. For days, I kept wondering how on earth we arrived at this state of affairs. If I’ve ever felt any pride in my country, it has been thanks to its national health system. One of the best in the world, it is credited for making Spaniards top the greatest life expectancy and quality of life rankings, supposedly along with the benefits of a Mediterranean diet. It is even more puzzling if we take into account what was happening in Italy weeks before.

 In hindsight, it has not been a matter of one particular thing that went wrong, but a series of circumstances that answer to diverse factors. Whilst some countries have responded similarly, and even more belatedly than Spain despite having China, Italy and Spain’s example, others have reacted in quite a different and effective way. Nevertheless, it is important to acknowledge, for instance, how distinct countries such as the UK and Norway, or Spain and Sweden, are. Apart from the obvious territorial and political divergences, there are also disparities at a social level. I remember, and I guess will remember all my life, the day before we entered total lockdown. One month before that, I had moved to Northern Spain for a teaching position at the University of Salamanca. At that point, I was finally getting used to my new life, (un)successfully balancing work with my PhD, and meeting people at the faculty who were interested in planning weekly trips to the local cinema. That is, in fact, what we set out to do on Thursday the 12th of March and, after a month of non-stop paperwork and assignments, we were definitely not willing to miss the opportunity of watching a film that was only to be screened that particular night. In fact, some of us had held a conversation about the ongoing news about the virus, one of them insisting on how “alarmist” they were, and how we shouldn’t let panic take over. This, unfortunately, was not an isolated opinion, and long after the lockdown measures were implemented, people continued travelling to their second homes, holiday destinations, and even gathering in bars and restaurants in Madrid, the area with more fatalities and the epicentre of the virus in Spain. It didn’t take long until the police were patrolling the streets, fining people who attempted to break the confinement.

Spanish people, known to be gregarious and family-oriented, were especially at risk precisely because of the immediateness of contagion, or so it was said. The same thing was mentioned whenever the international media talked about Italy. I’m not going to get started with how the EU has handled this crisis, because it has been outrageous. At least, they have recently apologised, and I hope we can prove to the world that our alliance goes beyond an economic pact. However, it is never really down to the people. Is it really all down to the people? I doubt it. It is true that lockdown measures were adopted at an early stage in comparison to other countries, and that they remain to be one of the strictest. However, before the strict lockdown, preventive actions were reluctantly taken, if taken at all. People who travelled to Spain from China were isolated from the beginning, whilst thousands of Spanish students who came back home after spending their January holidays in Italy were completely ignored. Some people said this was due to the fact that EU countries have fewer regulations regarding travelling among countries that are member states. Democracy and people’s rights were also used to justify why other non-European countries were handling the emergency better. As I said before, all this boils down to a multitude of factors. Whereas these reasons certainly played a part in how the matter was handled, keeping the economy afloat continues to be a priority. Quite understandably, some would argue that a great depression is looming over our very own 20s now. However, one cannot help but be concerned about the lack of human empathy that politicians around the world have shown at some point (one of the most criticised standpoints has been the UK’s initial “herd immunity” strategy). Of course, other countries have taken quite a different turn, most notably, for instance, New Zealand. Again, each country navigates in its own sea, but sometimes we have to acknowledge that some take efficient decisions and, most importantly, human ones.

Younger Marta with her grandma. Image credit: Marta Bernabeu

I cannot say much more about other countries, and I feel at a loss even talking about my own. I have mixed feelings about how the situation is being taken care of. On the one hand, the virus wouldn’t have struck so hard if people had taken the risk seriously before all blew up. On the other hand, lockdown here in Spain has been one of the strictest in Europe, and the peak is officially over. Medical staff, materials, ventilators, masks, and rooms have been scarce since the very beginning, but neither did we have time to stock up nor progressively flatten the curve: it all happened overnight. Nevertheless, it should be said that the previous government in office, which lasted for quite a while, had been cutting down expenses on both education and health resources—and this has taken a toll. What is particularly striking about Spanish society at the moment is its division. A massive amount of people, including political parties in the opposition, are harshly criticising any decision at which the current socialist government arrives. Despite this breach being characteristic of Spanish society for a long time now, it seems especially devastating at this dark hour. Whilst I personally think that some events could have been handled better, to be fair, we were all skeptical about the impact of the virus from the beginning. Moreover, the repeated extension of the lockdown, criticised by these parties in the opposition, is bearing its fruits. What is more, this government, despite its many faults, has attempted to provide social support to those in need, something that I hope they keep working on.

On a personal level, finding myself in an extremely tiny flat with almost no sunlight, I couldn’t face the idea of remaining in it for at least one month on my own. Soon, that month became two, and it is still uncertain when this will change. “Unprecedented times” is what I often find myself telling my students. Truth is, everyone has their own particular situation and, although we are not on the front line and are profoundly grateful to those who are, feeling how our mental health crumbles at a greater speed than normal is something that we have to deal with. On top of that, we also have to put up with our taxing sense of guilt for feeling so miserable, even if we know how little control we have over it. In addition, students, those who work from home or in academia, must also bear the weight of unproductivity. Yes, we are in a privileged position, and, yes, the world is a mess, social inequality is further bridging, and people are dying—but we must allow ourselves to feel crappy about our particular experience and unplug whenever we need to. At 85 years old, having taken care of her children and grandchildren all her life, and now living on her own, my grandma doesn’t understand what is going on—or doesn’t want to. She had left her flat that day to buy a bag of crisps to have her “cervecica” (regional diminutive for beer) before lunch. As it was Easter Sunday, she took quite a walk until she found an open store to buy her treat. As much as I harshly reprimanded her, and as much as I was extremely concerned about whether she had made herself vulnerable to an almost sure death sentence, I deeply sympathised with her. I saw in her the same need that I have to find something every day that soothes my body. A temporary pleasure that takes the mind off all the dying, the inescapability of the four walls, the incessant thinking, the mind spiralling. I have not been as productive as I had planned these days, I have not been as organised or as efficient. To make things worse, I have not been on top of my mental health, but I eventually convinced my grandma to move with one of my aunts who has a terrace (she initially didn’t want to because she fears to be a burden to anyone).

From my part, I’m sheltering myself in fiction, literature, art, and music as much as I can. Most of the time, though, I just overeat and overthink, ending up mentally overwhelmed and exhausted. From time to time, I find some peace in my memories from sunnier days, lengthier walks. Above all, I hope this is some kind of wakeup call—at too great a cost, I must admit—to pay attention to the immense significance of issues such as mental health, climate change, the necessity of a genuine global community, how vital science is, but also the arts and the humanities to guide us along the way. In the end, I’m not sure about what went wrong. I’ve heard different opinions, read bits and bobs in the news from here and there. Despite what I think I know, I must admit I have no clue, I’m no analyst. Better put, I can’t be brought to be one at the moment. There are people who are understanding this. We’ll meet again, and we’ll hug each other tighter. For now, let us all be.

About memories and (un)surmountable ties during this lockdown:

“Pandemia in the flat”

Petrol stations

London streets

Apparitions [unseen]

(I can only partly-breathe now, when is it that I’ll go back? They are feeding me until then, but the others…) [shivers]

[lively] ‘Would you like refreshment on the terrace?’ ‘Yes, Sir, thank you.’ ‘That’ll do me good’

I fix my sunglasses and look up to the sky

It proceeds to vanish

Salty air mingled with rusty blocks

Tamed beaten green, now sprouting (proud)

Casting shadows over a flooded sight

I fail to reach you

I’m drowning [unseen, unfelt, unsailed]

(what is it on the other side? Do I want to know? Don’t undo the feeding, it will unsew its stitches. However –)

My stomach knows

It crawls and shouts

Prepares a boat full of steam

‘Let’s go,’ it says, ‘let’s sail’

Don’t you know Ms Boat?

I cannot

Cannot go

‘But you’re drowning –!’

I, too, know

(perhaps, we’ll float)

P.S. Update: Some good news! I just recently found out that a mysterious millionaire donated one million euros to the University of Castilla-La Mancha, my Autonomous Community’s public university, to help in the fight against coronavirus. The donor has expressed her desire to remain anonymous, but has revealed that “she did it out of gratitude to Spain.” The University of Castilla-La Mancha, founded in 1982, has never received a similar donation. Legend has it that the mysterious donor could be Gwyneth Paltrow, who is an honorary citizen (“Hija adoptiva”) of Talavera de la Reina (Toledo).

You can read more at: https://www.theolivepress.es/spain-news/2020/04/22/mysterious-millionaire-donates-e1-million-to-the-university-of-castilla-la-mancha-to-help-in-the-fight-against-coronavirus/