Monday blues

(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.)

Today, we wake up at 7 a.m.  That doesn’t happen on a Monday morning, when hubby and daughter are usually in a rush to leave the house for work and school respectively by 6 a.m.

But school’s out and hubby is working from home today. Yesterday, the head of his firm had asked all employees working at their main office to work from home, as an employee of one of the tenants of the office building had tested positive of COVID-19. Hubby nonetheless showers and puts on clean house clothes before going online to report for work.

We check the news and as expected, there can be no social distancing with all the people lined up to board the Metro Railway Transit and the Light Railway Transit. There are a lot of complaints about people from outside Metro Manila not being able to get to work on time because they wait for a long time to undergo temperature checks and screening at checkpoints set up at various entry and exit points.

Photo by Jonas Sulit of Abante

A photo of a jeepney driver installing boxes to force passengers to sit about a meter apart trends on social media. It makes me smile. This resourceful man is still intent on earning for the day, but wants to comply with precautionary measures set by health officials.

Hubby tells me that there is a confirmed case of COVID-19 in a neighboring subdivision and I immediately check the news with a former colleague who lives there. She confirms the news and I assume she is working from home. I am startled to learn she is at the Makati office because she is into public relations and information, which can be done from home.

I go about my tasks and prepare lunch, careful to wash my hands every now and then. I check on my daughter who decides she is going to do some embroidery, which she’d always wanted to do but never had the time for. I am glad because I had already lined up something for her to do in case she is wont to lie down and just watch TV or view videos on her phone.

A report catches my attention:  a man with his grandchild in tow is unable to report for work because he is unable to show an ID for the kid, who is not old enough to attend school. He is refused entry into Metro Manila. The perplexed man wonders what ID he can show for the child. The news anchor wonders the same. Maybe a copy of the child’s birth certificate?

I get an unconfirmed report on my phone - Duterte is likely to announce a total lockdown on Metro Manila. I check my supplies and rush to the meat store, where I am able to get a few products then to the village grocery store where I get a carton of milk and four canned goods. There are only a few items on the shelves, and judging from the cart of an Indian national paying his purchases at the cashier, it’s apparent why. People are hoarding.

Since the report says people will not be allowed to leave their homes even to buy food, I proceed to the wet market outside and buy fish and eggs. Not entirely satisfied, but unable to get much else, I head home and hope I can stretch my provisions for a week or even longer, if I am prudent in apportioning food items per meal.

I text my sisters in Cebu about the unconfirmed report so they can stock up on their food provisions. The last time a general quarantine had been announced in Manila, Cebu immediately followed suit.

Photo by PCOO/Richard Madelo
as posted on "Interaksyon"

I watch the recorded announcement of Duterte and am immediately struck by how much rambling, story-telling, ranting and berating goes into the reading of a prepared official statement. I wish he would dispense with the ad lib and just stick to reading the statement.

Things are better during the presscon manned by Cabinet Secretary and Inter-Agency Task Force on the management of Emerging Infectious Disease (IATF-EID)  Spokesperson Karlo Nograles, Department of the Interior and Local Government (DILG) Secretary Eduardo M. Año, Department of Justice (DOJ) Menardo Guevarra, and Department of Health Secretary Francisco Duque.

The lockdown takes effect 12:01 a.m. of March 17 and ends 12 midnight of April 14. People are asked to stay home, although one person per household can go out only to buy food and/or health provisions. Thus, groceries, supermarkets and drug stores will still be open even if the malls are ordered closed. Restaurants are allowed to offer food takeout and delivery services, but will be prohibited from accommodating dine-in guests.

Public transportation will be suspended, even if workers involved in basic services will still be allowed to work. Local government units, particularly the barangays, will be instrumental in assessing the needs of the constituents and responding accordingly.

But given the hour of the President’s proclamation, I do not think any of them are prepared to cater to the transportation needs of those who are still called upon to work so I do not see much hope for those who live far from their places of work unless a) they own a vehicle; b) they carpool with someone who owns one; c) they avail of a shuttle service provided by their company; d) they avail of a shuttle service miraculously provided by their barangay or mayor early in the morning; and e) they walk.

We watch late into the night and fall asleep wondering how people who rely on their daily wage will be able to survive this lockdown.

First Day of Lockdown

(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.)

Today is the first day of the general community quarantine. I call up Arlene to check how she is doing and get a litany of all the wrong that government is doing. I understand how she feels. She is stranded in Metro Manila for at least a month. Even if she finds a way to leave the region, she will not be able to enter Cebu City which has also announced a lockdown.

Photo taken from the MSC Cruises Fan Club
- Unofficial FB page

Arlene is one of hundreds of Filipinos whose employment on cruise ships all over the world is cut short by the pandemic. She arrives in Metro Manila from Dubai, only to find that she can no longer leave the metro because of the lockdown. Some of her co-passengers avail of the shuttle service to Clark in the hope they can leave Luzon from the airport there, only to find themselves stranded too because their home provinces have also initiated lockdowns.

She cannot understand why they are left to fend for themselves. There is no quarantine; she is expected to isolate herself in lodgings she must find herself in what was supposed to be a stopover. She cannot stay in a hotel for a month as it is too expensive, but she wants to stay in Makati where her agency’s head office is located because she wants to iron out a pay issue.

I ask her to keep my number in case she needs anything, but she assures me that she has found temporary lodgings and that she plans to wait for her cruise shipmates and pool resources so they can get decent yet affordable lodgings in the time they are all stranded in Metro Manila.

Meanwhile, Hubby realizes he must get his ingrown toe nail clipped soon if he wants to walk around without pain for the duration of the lockdown. Half expecting to be turned down, he sends a text message to book his pedicurist at a nail salon in Market! Market! at the Bonifacio Global City in Taguig. He is surprised to get an appointment since she is much sought after, given her thorough but gentle hands, and even more when he learns that the mall is open.

I go along to buy additional cleaning and food provisions at the supermarket. We are startled to see a half-empty parking lot and consequently, fewer people in the often-packed mall. We wait patiently when the security guard takes our temperature and asks us to wait while he radios to a central office controlling the number of people inside the mall. It does not take long. Hubby heads directly to the nail salon while I enter the grocery.

There are enough provisions and I feel a bit guilty enjoying the fact that I do not have to endure the long lines that are usually found at the Metro supermarket during weekends. I get the items I’ve listed, resisting the temptation to stock up further on food. Little do I know that I would regret this the next day. At Watsons, the line at the cashier is a bit long but manageable.

I check out the Metro department store and am pleased to find that it carries the embroidery thread my daughter had asked me to get, should any of the shops still be open. “Naku, all the shops are open including your beloved Dairy Queen,” I tease her via text. I get her favorite frappe nonetheless and place it carefully inside my insulated bag so it would last the ride home. It does, because there is very little traffic.

Photo borrowed from Philippine Star
FB account

After dinner, we gather in the living room to hear mass (recorded video of the 10 a.m. mass at the Manila Cathedral).  Masses have been suspended since March 14 “to avoid large gatherings of people to avert the further spread of the virus,” according to a pastoral letter from Manila Bishop Broderick Pabillo.

It does not feel right. The dogs are a distraction although they eventually settle at our feet when we refuse to pet them. The warm air makes us drowsy. I peek at hubby seated beside me and see that his eyes are closed. I try to be charitable and assume he is just deep in prayer, but realize he is really asleep when a soft snore escapes him.  I jostle him awake, which sends my daughter into a fit of giggles.

Sigh. We are so sorry to be so human, God.

Just before the Quarantine

(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.)

We make plans to check on Nanay and her needs before the general community quarantine over Metro Manila is implemented by midnight. Trips outside the province are prohibited during the quarantine so we know that after today, we will be unable to go to her place in Antipolo City, which is located in the Province of Rizal.

However, we’ve already asked a plumber to come over and do repair work so we wait until that’s done before we leave. We set out mid-afternoon and stop by a restaurant along C5 to buy food that we can share with Nanay. The parking lot is half-empty and only a few patrons are inside. We go on the road and round a bend, only to come head to head with the giant parking lot that is the Ortigas Ave. extension.

We crawl inch by inch, not really making much headway in the traffic created by the huge number of people evidently wanting to leave the metro before the quarantine takes effect. Finally, hubby gives up and calls Nanay, apologizing that we have to turn around and head back home since we would likely get caught in Antipolo when the quarantine takes effect. She understands, as most mothers do.

Tired but still intent on catching the news, I stay up and am alarmed when my best friend calls from Cebu. Arlene, a mutual friend from abroad, is stranded in Manila.  Much as I want to immediately rush to her aid, I know I have to get the consensus of hubby and daughter, who are both in dreamland. I vow to call Arlene in the morning.

Life, as I don't know it

Photo borrowed from Heywood Hospital  

The threat of the corona virus disease of 2019 (COVID-19) first became real to me when it hit close to home or rather, the Greenhills shopping center in San Juan, Metro Manila which I was thinking of visiting to have my daughter’s drawing tablet repaired.

A 62-year-old male who frequented a Muslim prayer hall in the shopping center had contracted COVID-19 on March 5. He was the first case of local transmission in the Philippines, having no history of travel prior to contracting the disease. His wife followed suit on March 7. This convinced me that the virus had found its way to Metro Manila. It was no longer something in Wuhan, China. I remember thinking, “It’s real and it’s here in Greenhills.”

Of course, I had followed reports of Filipinos repatriated from Wuhan, China and quarantined at the New Clark City in Capas, Tarlac last February, but did not think much of it because they were all eventually released after they were cleared of the disease.

But the sight of a virtually empty Greenhills shopping mall unsettled me. Then the cases of local transmission started to rise, causing President Rodrigo Duterte to formally declare a state of public health emergency in the Philippines on March 9. He also suspended all classes in public and private schools in Metro Manila from March 10 to 14, 2020.

My daughter, who initially rejoiced at the idea of not having classes, started to worry. Her school cancelled the last term tests, announcing that the students’ final grades would be based on their class standing. Like most students, she had been banking on doing well in the finals to further pull up her grades. Also, she and her friends had agreed to meet at our house after the last exam scheduled on March 13 for a Dungeons and Dragons session, which was always fun.

Nonetheless, she remained optimistic that she would see her schoolmates during the practices scheduled for their moving-up ceremony the week after. But even that did not materialize. Government’s advice to offices and institutions to refrain from holding activities that encouraged mass gatherings prompted her school to cancel the moving-up ceremony altogether.

I think this was the tipping point for me since we were now directly affected. I wondered when her grades would be released, if they were good enough for entry to the school she had chosen for senior high school, and when we could enroll her for Grade 11. The silence and the uncertainty unnerved me.

Then I saw a news report showing the cast of popular noontime show “Eat Bulaga” performing to an empty studio on March 10.  Studio management had decided not to open its doors to a live audience in an effort "to help prevent the spread of the virus and to ensure the health and safety of its talent, staff, crew, and members of its audience."

Given the fast pace of events and everything that has happened since then, I have decided to make an account of how the rapid spread of COVID-19 in our country and our government’s response has affected our lives.

This is not an attempt to document medical or technical milestones, but rather just an account of how an ordinary, middle-income family is reacting to a new way of life brought about by the lockdown.

Life, as I know it, has changed. Fast. Drastically. I am starting on March 14, 2020 hours before the general community quarantine or partial lockdown of Metro Manila announced by Duterte takes effect. (To be continued)

“Hearting” birthday greetings

I turned 52 in October 2019. This statement should please my best friend, who always objects to my propensity to declare myself the age I am for the year even if my birthday is still months away. She is all for accuracy especially because she is a year younger and has no wish to "advance" her age. 

This year, I thought I would remove my birth date from Facebook (FB) because I am really more a lurker, just happy to "heart" or “like” the nice things that are happening to people, congratulate them on their milestones and commiserate when they lose someone dear to them.

At this age, I am also losing a lot of people I know, even those my age. I figured I might just as well begin the phase-out on social media.

But then my birthday came around and sister started the ball rolling by greeting me on FB. Someone picked up on that and then a friend of that someone and soon enough, I have a lot of birthday greetings in just minutes.

I am the type of person who wants to respond to each and every greeting, but when you’re with actual, physical people celebrating your birthday early in the morning with breakfast, you can’t. You can’t ignore them because you’re on your phone.

So you put it off and soon enough you’re going out and real life dictates that you spend the time doing this and that so that you can actually leave the house even as you sneak in a "heart" here and there to show the FB greeter that you love their message, which you really do except that you can’t be physically present but on the phone with the people who want to celebrate your birthday with you.

So you content yourself with “hearting” their greeting for the moment, all the time feeling uncomfortable that you cannot thank them properly.

I have only 660 FB friends. I cannot imagine how it is for those who have thousands.

But then again, I am 52 and considered old school. Maybe in this age of social media, a “heart” is really just enough.

Of course, I say this after I have replied, singly or in groups, to the birthday greetings that I “hearted” a while back.