Coronavirus in Paris
It started with stories from China about a new, scary, flu-like illness that was making people sick and could even be fatal. We watched as the Chinese went into various stages of travel restrictions and quarantine periods. Then the focus moved to Italy and people who were returning from their Venice vacations were not allowed to come to school for 14 days. There was another hotspot in Iran. We continued to move about in our daily lives but realised that hand sanitizer, toilet paper and hand soap were becoming difficult to find in the shops. The tourist spots that were usually crammed with people were eerily empty. On Thursday, President Macron told the nation, through a live televised address, that all the schools in France would close. Just as we were getting our heads around that, and what it would mean to have our kids home from school for an undetermined period, on Saturday, the French Prime Minister, Édouard Philippe, announced that the rest of France was shutting down too: all restaurants, cafés, museums, and shops with the exception of food stores and pharmacies.
I got the news at 7:43PM when a friend texted me: are you listening to the PM? The order would take effect at midnight. All of the shops were already closed and they were not going to open the next day, or the next, or the next. Had I managed to buy everything I might need? Were we going to be ok?
Over the past week I had gone back and forth between feeling an overwhelming need to stock up to prepare for the worst and then talking myself back into calm. It was one week ago when I told myself that I had better go buy some of the supplies that were becoming scarce in case they truly did run out. I made a trip to our neighbourhood Monoprix and was shocked at the crowds. The aisles were packed with people with carts filled to overflowing. The toilet paper aisle was almost empty but I did come away with 12 roles of blue flowered paper: the plain white was all gone. I had no luck with hand sanitizer or hand soap. There was a woman loading jars of jam into her cart. I stood and watched. It was hard not to get caught up in the frenzy. I bought two jars of jam.
As the news got worse my sense of unease and foreboding grew. My head was telling me that there was no need to prepare for Armageddon but the question, “what if” kept sneaking into my brain. I decided to stock up on things that I knew I would eventually use anyway: pasta, tomato sauce, rice, lentils, olive oil and salt. I saw a woman buying eight cans of peas and carrots. The thought of my apartment crammed with food I did not want to eat made me feel anxious. I made a trip to Picard, France’s famous frozen food store, and bought as much frozen produce as my freezer would hold, which is not actually that much. I now have a supply of frozen raspberries, blueberries and peas and the tandoori chicken that we love. I bought a basil plant. Now I wish I had bought three.
If you could accuse me of stockpiling it would be in just one category: I bought baking supplies. I decided that if we were homebound for an extended period of time we needed something to do (baking), something to look forward to (eating), and something to motivate us (mastering new recipes). So I bought butter, flour, sugar and eggs: as many as I reasonably could without being called a food hoarder. Look forward to the Instagram photos of our creations!
The girls will be doing school from home. We don’t yet know what that will look like but Sophia thinks she will be calling in for each one of her classes once a week and she will have to complete assignments and submit them online. Mavis will also receive an account on Pronote, the school’s software, to receive messages and assignments from her teachers. I am grateful that I thought to go to the American Library to stock up on books before they closed and each of them have a good supply. I have some books I have been wanting to read too and the luxury of a Kobo if I run out.
Both of Sophia and Mavis are sad to be missing school. We were already very aware that our time in France is running out and this makes it seem like even a bigger deal. Sophia is worried about the missed opportunity of being in her French school. Mavis is sad about all of the events that have been cancelled: her one week trip to England, Book Day and her French music performance. The worst though, she says, is that the math competition is only postponed! The girls were shell shocked when I picked them up from school on Friday with their backpacks full of books and some very loose instructions of how school would “continue at home” for the next, probably three, weeks. Up until that point, the virus threat had not seemed real. Now, it felt close and dangerous. Mavis had had a parent who worked at the Pasteur Institute come talk to her class about the virus, where it came from and how it spreads. She is now a wealth of knowledge and regularly reminds me that it is not called the coronavirus but Covid19. We took an evening to cocoon and not think about what was to come. We watched a few episodes of Modern Family which makes everything seem better.
The next morning we made ourselves a schedule that includes wake-up times, work and play times. We vow to get outside for some fresh air and exercise every day. We are going to buy as much fresh food as possible and cook it. H has set up our French AppleTV with funds so we can buy French content and we will research podcasts and get French audiobooks too. We will stay in touch with people from home and in Paris through calls and FaceTime. If possible, and for as long as we are still allowed to be outdoors, we will meet friends at the park to play ping-pong or kick a ball around. It needs to be something that allows us to keep social distance. Does that include drinking rosé with some of the other moms? Yes, I think so.
I went for a walk along the Seine yesterday with a friend. She made an observation that I found to be very insightful: concerts, movie screenings and professional sports had been cancelled and, while it was disappointing, it was manageable. At the same time, the thought of our schools, grocery stores, public transit and internet service providers shutting down was putting us in a panic. It makes us ask the question about why one is paid (paid =valued) so much higher than the other when one is disposable and the other essential? A crisis makes us realize what is important.
I look back over the past seven days and think about how much has changed: we started the week feeling uncertain and have ended it in shock at what is happening all around us. Our dear friends who were coming from Calgary and our niece who was coming from Victoria have cancelled their trips; we cancelled our weekend in Amsterdam the night before we were supposed to leave; we have no idea if our upcoming school vacation will be spent exploring France, as planned, or in lockdown in our apartment; the girls are out of school for an extended and unknown period of time; H is in Calgary and we do not know if he will be able to come in three weeks time, whether he will be allowed to leave the country or if airlines will be operating their flights; Desmond’s school in Toronto has also shut down and he needs to figure out what to do and neither parent is with him to help him shop and prepare for what is likely coming his way.
Meanwhile, our experience of Paris as interesting cafés, shops and museums and constant stimulation has turned into living inside a small apartment; everywhere we look there is uncertainty and fear and we do not know if we will be able to continue to buy food and necessities or if the city will slowly shut down as stores do not have the staff to keep them operating. Kids home from school mean parents who cannot go to work. During school holidays, many parents can rely on grandparents but, in this case, they are high risk for getting sick and need to self isolate. Many companies are encouraging people to work at home. All my best wishes go to those parents who are now home with 3 and 5 year-olds and are trying to telecommute while keeping their kids entertained.
There are so many who are deeply affected by this crisis and it makes our hearts heavy to think of them. We have friends who are currently sick, we love people for whom this virus would likely be deadly, we know people whose livelihood has all but evaporated and we can read endless stories of how people are struggling. We are making the only choice we can which is to try to stay positive, not get carried away with fear or worry of the future or of the unknown and to focus on gratitude: my kids, my husband and I are all healthy and are low risk of becoming seriously ill as a result of the virus. We are prepared and hopefully well able to take care of ourselves during this time of uncertainty. We are armed with a plan including intellectual stimulation, fun projects, the ability to connect with friends and family and we have each defined some personal goals for the next few weeks. And, as if that were not enough, we have butter, flour, sugar and eggs. The possibilities are endless.
