Love in the Time of Coronavirus

I don’t care that this title is unoriginal, I’ve had one heck of a week

The coronavirus pandemic has brought my time in Spain to an unexpected and painful end. I am just beginning to grapple with how quickly and dramatically my life has changed. I’m going to provide a snapshot of my last few weeks in Spain to try to capture how surreal everything was. In two weeks, I went from celebrating my 25^th birthday on a sunset booze cruise with a group of 16 amazing friends to being unemployed and in self-isolation at my parents’ house in Maryland. Fun!

I published my last post a little over a month ago, so I’ll start there to show how quickly things went from normal to insane.

Carnaval Break: Saturday February 22- Monday March 2, 2020

After the Midyear conference in Murcia, all eyes were on Carnaval break. The Canary Islands are known for having one of the most vibrant Carnaval celebrations worldwide, and I was so excited to experience it first-hand. My school had an elaborate Lion King-themed parade around Puerto del Carmen. At this point, coronavirus barely registered in the news. What we were focused on was the unprecedented calima, a weather event where dust from the Sahara Desert blows over the Canary Islands. Lanzarote’s Carnaval went on mostly as planned, but it sure looked spooky. The word post-apocalyptic was thrown around quite a bit—little did we know that worse was yet to come.

After sticking around for the main Carnaval events, my friend Gillian and I escaped the sand-infused air of Lanzarote for a week in France and Andorra. I wish I could dedicate an entire blog post to that trip, but it honestly feels like a lifetime ago. At this point coronavirus was becoming a steady whisper in the background—we knew things were bad in China, Korea, and Iran, and that cases were starting to increase in Italy, but it still felt distant. We got a little uneasy when some of Gillian’s college friends who were doing programs abroad were called back to the United States, but we contacted the Fulbright commission and felt reassured by their response.

The Last Normal(ish) Week: Tuesday March 3- Friday March 6

The days after Carnaval break were my last normal week in Lanzarote, although of course I didn’t know it at the time. Classes went on as usual and there continued to be no soap or paper towels in the student bathrooms (unfortunately this seems to be the norm in Spanish schools???).  The chatter in the teachers’ lounge was much more preoccupied with coronavirus, but the overall attitude was that it was just a bad flu, no big deal. Meanwhile, the news started getting worse—the Louvre, which I had been exploring days earlier, was closed to visitors and Northern Italy went on a lockdown that gradually encompassed the entire country.

Life went on though. I had my private lessons, hosted a Bilingual and Ready to Mingle language exchange, and prepared for my twenty-fifth birthday party.

THE BEST FREAKIN’ WEEKEND OF MY LIFE: March 7-March 8

The weekend of my 25^th birthday reached heights of perfection that I didn’t even know were possible. A group of 16 friends, a sunset cruise, unlimited beer and sangria, music, dancing… what more could a girl ask for? After weeks of fretting about making the arrangements, worrying that someone would show up late and miss the boat, and playing out scenarios where someone got too drunk and fell overboard, the actual day arrived and everything went off without a hitch. I felt like I was in a music video about hot rich people. I felt completely at home and surrounded by love. I keep looking back at that weekend as a reference point for how things went to shit afterwards. Two weeks ago I was dancing with my friends on a boat. Two weeks ago I was shoveling spaghetti into my face at a cheap restaurant and laughing at stupid jokes. Two weeks ago I was posing for pictures and feeling like a princess. The one thing I am grateful for is that I was able to have all my Lanzarote friends in one place and have an amazing time with them before we all had to leave unexpectedly.

On March 8, my actual day of birth, I spend a lazy day with an important person who I haven’t mentioned in this blog before. His name is Dani, and we have been seeing each other since around November. I could call him my boyfriend, but I prefer to call him my Spanish lover (with a Spanish accent when I say it out loud) because it’s funnier. Dani has been such a positive presence during my time in Lanzarote. I was single for a loooooong time before we started dating, and it was awesome to feel excited about someone again. We were both realistic about our future together—neither of us saw ourselves living permanently in a foreign country—so we agreed to enjoy our time together and then part ways amicably when I returned to the US in June. In a lot of ways this took the pressure off for me, because I could truly relax and have fun with Dani instead of worrying about what the future would look like. I felt secure, comfortable, and happy. Anyway, now that I have given my Spanish lover the introduction he deserves I can get on with my story… things start moving really fast from here on out.

Finally some dang soap in the school! Monday, March 9- Tuesday March 10

My school implements a strict hand-washing regimen for all students. Every hour, each class is taken to the bathroom as a group and washes their hands under adult supervision. Finally!!! The teachers’ lounge conversations are increasingly anxious. I feel like my heart rate is constantly going up. Regions across Spain are gradually announcing that they are closing schools and imposing lockdown measures.

An attempt at normalcy for Dani’s birthday—Wednesday March 11

Wednesday is Dani’s 27^th birthday… yeah two Pisces dating each other, go figure! While he is still at work, I meet with my friend Sarah. We are planning a trip to Morocco for our Easter break. We have a growing sense of unease, but we had already bought our plane tickets and we both realllly wanted to go. We optimistically decide to continue our planning but to be diligent about checking cancellation policies. However, some sort of premonition keeps us from actually going through with booking accommodation.

That night Dani and I go to the next town over for a birthday dinner at an Indian restaurant. He is preoccupied because his family lives in Madrid, which is the epicenter of the coronavirus outbreak in Spain. His dad was feeling sick but was unable to get a coronavirus test at that time (spoiler alert—his dad is fine now!) We order a ridiculous amount of food, drink some beers, and escape from the anxiety for a few hours. I give him his present—a guidebook for DC and NYC with little notes about places I want to visit together (too cute, right?) He is hoping to visit me in the summer shortly after I return to the US.

Shit starts getting real – Thursday, March 12

I wake up to the news that Morocco has shut its borders with Spain. I’m disappointed but my mom suggests doing a staycation in Lanzarote and renting a house with my friends. Dani’s dad is doing fine, but Madrid is going into full lock-down mode. People are saying that Spain is on the brink of becoming the next Italy. I go to work like normal, but I can tell the kids are agitated and anxious. By evening the government has announced that all schools will be shut down for at least two weeks. I’m worried, but focus on the excitement of an unexpected vacation. I imagine days on the beach, relaxed evenings with Dani, and time to finish my scuba certification. I stock up on groceries a bit just in case, although the panic-buying seems to be minimal.

Friday the Thirteenth—Friday, March 13

I kick off my staycation with some of my friends by going to the pool at the Gran Hotel in Arrecife. We try not to talk about the virus but it’s hard to avoid. We think about how we’ll combat boredom—at this point we’re still assuming we’ll be able to move relatively freely around the island. At this point in the discussion, Gillian checks her phone and freezes. I feel a creeping sense of dread. I check my email and see the news that part of me had feared ever since Gillian and I went to Paris. We’re being sent home—or at least, we’re being highly urged to return home. I’m in shock and denial all at once. How could this be happening? How would I tell Dani? I spiral, I call my mom, I cry, I start to wonder if I should stay. I weigh my options and go back and forth a million times. I go out with my friends that night for what we suspect is the last time, at least on Lanzarote.

Lock Down: Saturday, March 14

The president of Spain announces that a full-country lockdown will go into effect starting at midnight. For at least two weeks, we will only be able to leave the house to buy food, medicine, or to go to work if your job is considered essential. I continue to spiral, making a list of pros and cons that brings me no clarity. I book a “just-in-case” flight for March 20, but I’m not at all convinced that I will use that ticket. The news I am seeing about how the pandemic is being handled in the US is not comforting at all. I spend time with Dani, who is amazing and comforting and makes the thought of leaving even more painful.

Something that makes me smile: every night, across all of Spain, people come together while staying apart by applauding health care workers from their windows. People play music and dance on their balconies. The sense of camaraderie is strong.

If I stay there will be trouble: Sunday, March 15

I spend the morning on the phone with my best friend from college and then with my mom, and I start to feel comfortable with the idea of staying. I feel safe in Lanzarote, there are very few cases here, I would have Dani and a few other friends to look out for me, and I would avoid putting myself at risk of infection while travelling internationally. I rent a car with some of my friends to say goodbye to the island—although with the lockdown in place, we really can’t give Lanzarote the goodbye it deserves. But most of my friends have already booked flights to leave, and my resolve to stay starts to falter. What if I get stuck here indefinitely? What if the supply chains are disrupted? What if someone in my family gets sick and I can’t get back to see them?

If I go there will be double: Monday, March 16

After getting a dire warning from my Austrian roommate about how bad things could get on an island with no self-sufficient source of food or water, I finally decide to leave. However, I’m fully aware that by booking a flight for Friday, March 20, I might get stuck on the island anyway—and part of me hopes that the fates will decide for me. Dani and I walk to a friend’s house so he can pick up some things that they are trying to get rid of. On the way, we are stopped by police. It’s not confrontational, but it proves that they mean business. Since I’m coming to terms with leaving, I want to have as many normal nights with Dani as possible. However, it seems that every time I find a sense of calm, a frantic rumor (borders closing, cases soaring, flights and boats getting cancelled) finds its way into my inbox and I start to spiral again.

Luck o’ the Irish– Tuesday, March 17

Dani and I make eggs benedict for breakfast. These moments of calm with him are getting me through this week that has felt like a year. I spend the day packing and then return to Dani’s to spend the night—luckily we live very close and there’s a grocery store on the way that I can say is my destination if I get stopped. On the way to his house, my friend Sarah calls to tell me her flights for Thursday have been cancelled. She and Hanna are on the phone with an American Airlines rep who tells that them Spain is essentially closing their airspace starting at midnight on Wednesday. I don’t believe it—my flights are on Friday, what does this mean for me? Sure enough, the rumors start blowing up my phone before someone finally confirms the news from a reliable source. If I don’t leave on Wednesday, it means I’m staying in Lanzarote indefinitely. I panic—I’m calling and texting everyone who I think can help. It suddenly hits me that instead of one of our last nights together, this has become the last night together, and I’m spending it frantically trying to book flights. Finally, Sarah and Hanna save my ass and get me and Gillian on a flight to Dublin with them. A Saint Patrick’s Day miracle!

The Great Escape—Wednesday March 18 to Friday March 20.

I say goodbye to Dani in the morning. It absolutely sucks. We knew we would be saying goodbye in June, but we are so not ready to be saying goodbye right now.

A group of my friends are all on a flight to Dublin with me. We get to the airport insanely early. It’s packed with panicked tourists trying to get the last flights out. We’re all losing it in different ways— but we manage to keep each other sane too. Gillian and I are flying to Dublin, then London, then Miami, and our other friends have similarly complicated routes to get home. We know that the more airports we go through, the more risk we have of getting infected. We also know that we could get stuck at any point of the escape. Despite the nerves, we make it to each destination successfully. I have an overnight stay in Dublin then another in Miami before I finally make it to DC on Friday morning. At this point I am so exhausted and overwhelmed that my body can barely process how I feel.

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Thanks for sticking with this story. I have been safely home in self-isolation for a few days now and my parents are taking amazing care of me. I’m very grateful that I made it home with relatively few issues, and to have loving parents to return to. Despite these positives, I am still dealing with bitter disappointment and grief that my time in Spain was cut short. There are so many people and places that I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to, and even more that I didn’t get to say goodbye to at all. I know I made the right decision to leave, because shortly after I landed I saw the announcement that Fulbright is suspending the program worldwide. I know that life on the island looks totally different now, and that it will take a long time for it to return to any kind of normal. I’m worried about the future, both personally and globally, but for now I’m trying to take things day by day. If I put real pants on and FaceTime a few friends, that’s a win. It’s hard to feel optimistic right now, but I’m trying to remain hopeful that I’ll get to visit Lanzarote someday soon. I experienced and grew so much there in seven short months, and I know that the island and the people I met there will always hold a special place in my heart.