A grocery run

(Part of an ongoing account started on March 13, 2020 of how the spread of COVID-19 in our country and our government’s response has affected our lives.)

For the first time in days, I am leaving the house to get some meat, fruits, vegetables and dog food. I call the village meat shop to check if they are open and if they are accepting reservations, like they did before the lockdown. 

The person on the other end apologizes. Things are now on a first-come, first-served basis, which makes sense to me. I tell her that I am just glad that the shop is open.

I am pleasantly surprised to see that there is a line outside the meat shop, with those in line standing at least a meter from each other. Once a customer leaves with purchased goods, the person manning the door calls one of us in. At least two senior citizens try to enter ahead of us, but they are asked to wait in line.

One of them decides to line up behind me. I offer her my place but she declines. She understands that these are abnormal times and she is prepared to do her bit.

When I get called, I am given a number so that shop personnel can wait on us in the order that we came in. I am fast about getting what I need and line up to pay, chatting up the cashier who I know since I am a long-time client.

From her, I learn that all of them are still reporting for work, except one who lives in Taguig City. She is unable to get through the checkpoint since Taguig has declared its own lockdown. The owner has assured that she will still be paid, nonetheless.

I transfer to the minimart nearby where I also line up with two small bottles of dishwashing liquid, which are just about what’s left on the shelf. The person in front of me grumbles that all she is getting is an ice cream sandwhich, which is slowly melting by the minute. I tell her she might want to start eating it and just pay for it when she reaches the counter. She laughs, confessing that it’s for her kid.

When it’s my turn to pay, the cashier notices that I have a lot of coins and asks me if she could exchange them with paper bills since she needs coins for change. I realize that the banks are closed so I tell her that I will bring more coins when I shop at the minimart again.

Some of the shops that line
the road outside the village.

I still need to buy fruits and vegetables, so I head for the access road outside the village, which I know is lined with small stalls and stores of those selling anything from rice, bread, dog food, fish, meat, fruit, vegetable, etc. I am not wrong. They are all open and there are cars and people. It is a comforting sight.

I am so happy at the return to normalcy, that I prolong the experience. I walk the entire length and turn around just before it intersects the service road, checking out what is open and available even though it is nearing noon and the sun is beating down on me. I get everything I need and enter the village gate where the streets are empty and everything is silent once more.

When I enter the house, my phone automatically connects to the Web via WiFi. I am pleased to see that I have been added to a Facebook group of food vendors based in or near the village who offer to deliver their goods. I check out what’s available and realize that this is probably how the higher-income class get their goods during this difficult time. The goods range from steak to lechon to prepared food, although there are also fruits and vegetables.

I thank my friend who thoughtfully added me to the group, but tell her I will treat this food resource as a last resort. I think the small vendors outside the gate are in greater need of every peso they can earn. It’s not a charity thing. My peso also goes a long way with them.

Cabin fever

(Part of an ongoing account started on March 13, 2020 of how the spread of COVID-19 in our country and our government’s response has affected our lives.)

I am a bit groggy today as I had waited for the presscon which started close to midnight and ended at around 1 this morning. What stands out to me is the effort to address the issues that emerged at the checkpoints, where a lot of people and motorists got stranded the day before.

Trucks delivering basic goods will be allowed to pass unhampered. OFWs and balikbayans will now be allowed to leave from NAIA terminals in Metro Manila so they can return to the countries where they either reside or work.

I imagine my friend Arlene, who is stranded in Manila, getting worked up about government’s silence on those from abroad who are unable to leave the metro for their homes in the Visayas and Mindanao.

Hubby, who had been unable to stay awake for the presscon, is a bit tense this morning, answering questions from work colleagues and superiors about additional operational guidelines which Cabinet Secretary and IATF-EID  Spokesperson Karlo Nograles had announced. I fill him in.

I also ask him to tell me should he need to stay up for anything since I can easily stay up and rouse him. After several years of working late in a Cebu daily, my body clock is still patterned after that of a night owl’s.

Again, we keep tuned in to the radio. Daughter retires to her room where she has started embroidering her blouse.

Fedela asks to take the dog out for a walk. I remind her about the directive for us to stay home but she says she will wear a face mask and keep her distance from anyone. Besides, “lapit lang ng park ma’am at hirap na si Macmac (the park is very near and Macmac is very restless).” Hubby backs her request and because I suspect she is suffering from cabin fever, I reluctantly let her go but ask her to bring her ID.

She is back after just a few minutes, grumbling. A roving guard had told her to go home. What about all those Chinese going for a run? she asks me.

Now that Philippine Offshore Gaming Operators (POGO) have been ordered to suspend operations during the lockdown, the Chinese workers renting in the subdivision find themselves staying in a house that has grown too small now that all of them stay home at the same time unlike before when the night shift would have the house to themselves while the day shift was out working. I wonder if the guards are also telling them to stay home.

Hubby decides to check on Nanay. My mother-in-law says she is all right and that they have enough food provisions. I call Arlene and find her more upbeat. She has received her allotment. Also, two of her cruise ship mates are flying in tonight and will proceed to affordable lodgings she has found for all of them. Since she has paid for her room until Thursday, she joins them Friday.

I am glad to find her in fighting spirit. Feisty Arlene is back, now intent on following up OWWA or MARINA for help, peppering her social media accounts with posts towards this end.

I also call my sister-in-law who lives in Taguig, which has declared its own lockdown. Like all of us, she stays home and keeps in touch with family and friends via the phone and/or social media. I also touch base with my sisters in Cebu and in the U.S., who are all complying with the directive on social distancing in their parts of the world.

Just a while ago, my sister-in-law from Germany calls. She is also confined to the house and a bit worried that public transportation will be suspended soon, forcing her to walk to the grocery where she works. But she calls because she wants to know how Nanay and the rest of her family in the Philippines are doing. So does another sister-in-law based in Los Angeles.

I am not alone. We are all in this together.

It's so Quiet

(Part of an ongoing account started on March 13, 2020 of how the spread of COVID-19 in our country and our government’s response has affected our lives.)

I wake up to a stillness and realize it’s not just the absence of plane engines that is jarring (I live near the airport), but also those of cars and tricycles that usually traverse the road in front of our house.

Fedela, our help, says a group of construction workers walked by early in the morning, complaining that they had no work and were going home. Apparently, they had managed to get to the site expecting to do a day’s work only to find it empty. Only a few cars are out, presumably to get provisions from food stores outside the subdivision. Once again, I thank God that we live in an area where there are a lot of food vendors.

Photo by Mark Demayo for ABS-CBN News

I keep the radio on in case there are any new announcements. I hear the TV tuned into a news broadcast in the bedroom, where my husband has set up his office for the day. Judging from the news reports, a lot of people are walking to work today.

Hubby shares that they are exploring how to help members of their workforce hardest hit by the slowdown in sales and operations as a result of the Enhanced Community Quarantine.  They are currently gathering data on the number and needs of those affected (forecourt staff, mechanics, lorry drivers, helpers, etc.) so that they can come up with a feasible financial assistance plan.

All this time, the radio is on and I hear a lot of people asking how to access services, particularly to avail of loans from government offices like the Social Security System, Pag-IBIG and Philhealth.  This lockdown highlights the fact that these offices do not have these services available online.

There’s also a lot of problems at the checkpoints. It’s the first day of the lockdown and not everyone lining up can be allowed to go through. Parents wanting to get to their children explode in tears or raise their voices in frustration. Drivers of taxi cabs and tricycles are turned away and told to stay home. Drivers of vans carrying food and other provisions complain about the long lines. It is hard to watch.

My niece from Cebu calls. She has end-of-schoolyear online assignments which include accessing a post on my blog. She’s also asking if I could recommend four other blogs. I give her mine and those I follow and wonder if they will appeal to a teenager and if they are any use for her academic requirements. She thanks me nonetheless.

We receive a memo from our housing association that the office will be closed for the duration of the quarantine, but will open on the morning of Saturdays to receive payments of monthly dues. The village director assures that basic services like cleaning and garbage collection will continue and that he is making himself available through the security office, which is open 24/7, should there be any concerns needing his attention.

Pedestrian entry will be limited to those with valid IDs given by the association so I ask Fedela to keep her subdivision ID handy in case she has to leave the village to buy food and other provisions.

Source: Tweet from ABS-CBN News

Just in: Duterte places the whole country under a state of calamity for six months to allow the government to tap more funds to contain the spread of the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19). This is a good thing since it will allow LGUs to help their constituents, particularly those who rely on their daily wages for sustenance and who cannot work under the guidelines of the quarantine.

Meanwhile, I serve a meal where only two get a piece of porkchop each, while my husband and I finish  the fruits which are about to get overripe. It is adequate, but far from the usual when I would cook more in case hubby decides he wants to eat a full meal at night.  He does not complain. He knows we are better off than a lot of our neighbors just outside the subdivision.

We wait for the presscon by the IATF, scheduled to start at 8 p.m., but which doesn’t materialize for some reason. I am just glad I am able to get answers to several health questions from DOH Undersecretary Maria Rosario Vergeire who graciously stays on air over DZBB with anchors Alvin Elchico and Doris Bigornia for over two hours. What a trooper.

The presscon finally starts close to midnight with Cabinet Secretary and IATF-EID  Spokesperson Karlo Nograles reading the latest operational guidelines concerning the implementation of the Enhanced Community Quarantine over Luzon and answering questions from the media with DTI Secretary Ramon Lopez, Labor Secretary Silvestre H. Bello III and PNP Chief Gen. Archie Gamboa on board.

At 1:05 a.m., as my head touches the pillow, I hear a familiar sound. For the first time in hours, I hear the drone of an airplane from the airport nearby.