Curfew and change of mind

Saturday, March 21, 2020

I'm setting off to Chillán with the utmost caution. Unfortunately, there are no more masks available, so I am using my Buff as a mouth and nose cover. I feel uncomfortable at the airport and on the flight from Punta Arenas to Concepción because everyone is extremely unsettled. But the risk of infection here is still relatively low, as there have only been two known cases in the entire region so far. Upon arrival in Concepción, I take an Uber directly to the bus station and hope that the buses are still running. On the way, I see a whole car being disinfected. The bus station is as empty as I have never seen on my trip, especially on a Saturday. A good sign. Some companies have actually stopped operating, but I still manage to get a bus to Chillán and don't have to wait long. There are only 4 other people traveling with me on the bus. In Chillán, I am forced to go to the supermarket to stock up on food for the next 1-2 weeks. There are markings on the floor to keep distance, you have to disinfect your hands at the entrance, and it is also not busy here, especially for a Saturday. From 08:00 - 10:00 am, only people over 60 are allowed in the supermarket. I continue directly to the house of Juan's mom, Ursula, who kindly takes me in for a while. She is currently visiting her mother and I have the house to myself for now.

In the evening, I do some yoga and read a bit about Ayurveda and practice some Spanish, then it's off to bed early.

Sunday, March 22, 2020

After a good night's sleep, I make a healthy breakfast porridge and a cocoa and slowly start the day. At noon, I go for a run, although I'm not sure if it's allowed. I encounter a person with a 6-meter distance on my route. Fortunately, Ursula lives on the outskirts of the city, very secluded, and my route takes me to a beautiful river cascading over a wide stone edge.

Back at the house, I receive concerned messages from relatives urging me to come back to Germany as soon as possible. I understand the concern, but I have carefully considered before making this decision, and I know that it may not be understandable for everyone. That's okay. I feel very comfortable and safe here, given the circumstances, and I hope that my loved ones at home are not worrying about me more than I worry about them. I am well aware of the seriousness of the situation, as far as one can understand it. Both at home and here, we will all follow the situation closely and hopefully make the right decisions at the right time. Acting unreasonably or recklessly can have fatal consequences in times of crisis, but these are both qualities that do not really align with my character.

I try to make the best out of the situation and see it as an opportunity - for nature, the economy, humanity, and myself. I now have time to live according to my needs, cook healthy meals, eat mindfully, exercise a lot, and continue my education. I am aware that I am currently in an exceptional situation as I am not currently working, but that is also part of my journey and I am enjoying it without feeling bad. I deserve that. I don't always feel as confident and optimistic as I do at this moment when I write this. Doubt is my second middle name, as my mom would say. But perhaps this time will teach me to let go of this old way of thinking, a belief, my mom would say. Let's all make the best out of the situation and not despair, we don't really have a choice anyway.

Monday, March 23, 2020

After yesterday afternoon, while writing in my diary, I was full of confidence and conviction, I had a total crisis of meaning in the evening. The trigger was the fact that Germany has now launched a repatriation program for Chile. I received an email from the consulate and had to actively decide whether I wanted to be repatriated or not. The overall situation itself has actually not changed, but the food for thought was enough to completely question my decision. Restlessly, I paced through the rooms and read all possible articles once again. Another piece of information I received is that Chile is now locking down the city of Chillán, where I currently live. I tried not to let myself go crazy, but rather absorb everything and make a rational decision. But with the mind alone, one cannot get very far with such big issues, so I slept on it for a night.

The day is actually going well, I manage to do many of my projects, like yoga, meditation, playing the ukulele, and learning a bit about Ayurveda. Ursula has decided to continue staying with her mother, so I am still alone in the house. I cook a lot and eat a lot, and think about how to proceed. Being completely socially isolated is different from what I imagined. I think if I had the opportunity to meet people at any time, it wouldn't be so bad. But the thought that it's just not possible, even if I wanted to, is distressing. Otherwise, I already enjoy the alone time, I generally like being alone.

In the evening, I help Ben get to the airport in Punta Arenas by ordering an Uber for him. His flight is supposed to leave at 02:00 am, he arrives at the airport shortly before 10:00 pm. However, it is completely empty and deserted. No people, no staff, no flight information, no taxis. Online, I check what's going on with his flight and see that the first of three flights announces a nine-hour delay. Ben was not informed by email or otherwise. This means he will definitely miss the connecting flight. I try to order an Uber or taxi back to the hostel, but nothing works anymore. The nighttime curfew from 10:00 pm onwards is taken very seriously. Ben spends an uncomfortable night at the airport and I spend half an hour unsuccessfully waiting in the Iberia hotline. This also gives me a lot to think about.

Tuesday, March 24, 2020

After a few hours of sleep, I call Iberia again at 06:00 am (it would cost Ben a lot) and his flight is rescheduled. Supposedly, he will now fly this afternoon. However, the employee also seems confused and unsure, and checks the connection over and over again. Ben can only check in for the first two flights, not for the one from Madrid. It remains exciting. I sign up for the repatriation program and fall asleep for a bit. Since Ben stops communicating at some point, I assume that the first flight to Santiago has taken off.

After waking up for the second time, I have breakfast, do some yoga, and meditate. It helps me a lot at the moment. In general, my inclination is now more towards going home rather than staying here. Every day, it becomes apparent over and over again that the global situation will become much worse and could actually last for a very long time. I am not someone who dramatizes things, but my gut feeling has gradually changed, so I would like to spend the time with my family in a familiar environment after all. I will wait a few more days to see what happens with the repatriation program, then I may book a flight myself.

Wednesday, March 25, 2020

I slept badly. I have ants in my pants. Since the thought has planted itself in my head that maybe I should go home after all, I can't think of anything else and can no longer enjoy being here. Floating in this thought nimbus is the worst. I call the embassy again, there is a flight back to Santiago tonight. But I can't make it anymore, even if the buses are running and I can get out of Chillán. In the morning, I try to distract myself a bit by cooking the plums that have aged and making sauce out of the overdue tomatoes - subconsciously anticipating that I won't be here anymore to eat everything in time.

At noon, the restlessness finally grabs me and I need to know now - can I still get out of the locked-down city of Chillán? It's all or nothing. My things are packed in 10 minutes, but at the bus station, the first disappointment awaits. Apart from a security officer, there is no one to be seen. Especially no buses. The kind gentleman initially waves me off with the comment that nothing will happen here for at least two weeks. With a pitiful look, I inquire again and am sent to a bridge outside the city limits - that's where buses from other cities pass by. I want to take an Uber to the bridge, but my driver says we can't go further than the city limit. Nobody can come in, nobody can go out. I try again with a sad puppy look in broken Spanish, and lo and behold, we'll give it a try. At the city limit, he even takes over the whole discussion with the police officers for me, and after 10 minutes with various officers, we are actually allowed through. I also had a letter from the German Embassy in Chile on my phone, which didn't hurt.

Chile's public transportation works like a well-oiled machine (if there is not a government order against it). I stand on the highway for less than five minutes, and a bus heading towards Santiago picks me up. We are stopped once and everyone's temperature is measured. The very friendly officer explains to me in English that the entire bus would have to go into quarantine if anyone had had a fever. Luckily, everyone stays calm.

During the journey, I fall into a depressed mood. I am frustrated. Angry at the world. Frustrated that I can't continue my journey; that I can't see the dear acquaintances in Chile again because of quarantine; that I can't greet my friends when I return; that I can't continue to have new encounters and experiences; that the seriousness of life catches up with me much earlier than I would like, and then so abruptly. At the same time, I am aware of my first-world problems and that I am still very fortunate. I am healthy, I don't have existential fears, I have a great family and wonderful friends. But at the moment, I am just briefly frustrated and pitying myself. Hopefully, that will stop soon.

In Santiago, there are still a lot of people walking on the streets, most of them without masks. People here are much less cautious than in Chillán, to me, it seems very reckless. I don't think the situation is really being taken seriously here. In the hostel, I constantly feel dirty, don't want to touch anything, and wash my hands all the time. Luckily, during the bus ride, I was able to book a flight for tomorrow evening that will hopefully bring me back home without delay or cancellation. In retrospect, I had perfect timing because starting tomorrow evening, a large part of the city will be put under complete quarantine. Then nothing will work here anymore. I am constantly tense and feel very uncomfortable. My own four walls in Chillán were much more relaxed, but I believe it is the right time to return and I am looking forward to being with my family. What happens next is still uncertain.