The Isolation Begins

Yesterday morning I set out to the local drug store to buy some family necessities. When I got there, I went straight to the toilet paper shelves and managed to score a few rolls. Other shoppers were there, wearing latex gloves and masks, grabbing whatever tissue-y products they could. Minutes later, the shelves were empty, despite the two-per-customer limit.

I waited for a mob to finish asking/accosting a worker stocking shelves about when there will be more toilet paper, and asked her where a certain face wash for Kata was located. She seemed so relieved to answer a non-toilet-paper-related question. 

After grabbing a few less in-demand items (nuts, toothpaste, baby food), I joined the queue, where we all maintained a two-meter distance from each other and avoided eye contact. I paid by card and got out of there as quickly as I could.

In just a few days after I posted my previous post, things jumped a few notches in Germany. Our city-administered day care was closed. Our employers sent us to home office. Playgrounds were cordoned off. Border controls went up. Masks are everywhere. The package delivery guys don't ask for signatures anymore. They ring the front doorbell, wait to be buzzed in, slide the package through the door, and practically run back to their truck.

While some things have changed, some small things haven't. I had to wait for a haircut at my local barber, which is still open for business. People still sit on the patio and sip coffee at the cozy kiosk down the street. There are plenty of joggers, dog walkers, and stroller pushers in our nearby park.

Small things seem even larger in importance than ever before. We're collectively stressing about beating the panic buyers to the toilet paper shelf or wondering if we're going to get this virus by standing too close to a stranger a stoplight. Getting a hair cut or reading a book on a park bench on a sunny day might keep us sane in the coming days, weeks, and months.

But those small things might be more dangerous than we realize. In Italy, everyone was sent home from work and school and, because it was Italy, instead of staying at home, they went to the cafes and clubs and stayed out late to enjoy the warm weather. The rate of infection rose, hospitals were overwhelmed, and the government shut down everything and sent the police into the streets to keep people home.

Many of the small things in this crisis are only dangerous when they're abused. Large groups still gather in public, people cough in stores without covering their dirty germ holes, and they're throwing grill parties in the park. 

In Germany, in particular my state of North-Rhine-Westphalia, which is hardest hit by the coronavirus, we'll see in the coming days if this partial shutdown will have an effect on the infection rate. If not, we'll have to forget about enjoying the small things for a while.