The Pre-Corona World
The murmurings of Coronavirus began sometime in December or January, but it was merely a fleeting thought in my mind as I did my daily internet browsing of The Guardian and other news sites. It was on the front page and seemed serious, but it was a problem in China. It wasn’t something I gave much thought to or worried about. It was distant, not applicable to my world, unimportant. I had more pressing things to worry about; what am I doing with my life, how will I find a remote job, how to extend my stay in Spain, the desire to get to know my newly adopted city of Valencia, a burgeoning romantic relationship to explore – to name a few. In short, I had plenty to think about, ruminate on, and occupy my mind during those months.
As the months went on, the menacing hum of coronavirus slowly increased its volume. Friends who teach online in China told me how all their students were inside on lockdown due to the virus. I used an article about the outbreak in Italy as material for my English students to read. It was beginning to become more and more present, but no alarm bells were going off.
Las Fallas, a massive festival involving elaborate and beautifully designed floats culminating in the burning of everything, was about to begin in Valencia. In the weeks leading up to it, the coronavirus only increased in scale and size, yet plans went on to hold Fallas. People said the virus was just a more severe version of the flu, that it was only in certain areas, that everything would be fine and Las Fallas would continue as normal. My mom was planning to visit but decided to cancel about 4 weeks before the scheduled trip – this was well before the world shut down and things became really serious. In retrospect, it was an absolutely correct decision. A few weeks after she canceled, Las Fallas was officially called off. The virus began to reach a fever pitch – Italy was already completely shut down and a Spanish quarantine loomed.
Lockdown Looming
One week prior to the country-wide shutdown, Steph and I had one of the most enjoyable and social weekends that we’ve ever experienced in Valencia. Friday night was swing class and Saturday morning was a social dance outdoors. We hung out with people from our class, danced, laughed, took photos, joined their WhatsApp group. We were making friends and finally feeling more integrated into the community here. Later that day I went to a financial independence meeting – a group that meets to talk about saving for early retirement to exchanges ideas and support on this topic. Right after that meeting, we went to a mixer with other ex-pat digital workers: we met scores of interesting people from all over the world who ended up in Valencia, all of us sharing the communal attraction to this fantastic city. It was a great evening: lots of laughs, friendly people, fun environment, worry-free socializing.
The next day was absolutely beautiful – it was March but felt like summer – beaming sun and no wind. We rode our bikes to the beach and met up with some friends for an impromptu picnic. We brought homemade hummus, snacks, and a volleyball. We frolicked in the sun, smacked the volleyball around, laughed like crazy, and enjoyed good company with new friends. It had been so long since I had that type of experience: enjoying the outdoors with friends and relaxing in a public space. I nostalgically remembered the glory days of living in San Francisco and having a weekly picnic volleyball game in the park. One week later, everything would change.
Las Fallas was abruptly canceled. I remember feeling a strong sense of relief. It made no sense to hold a massive festival where over 1 million tourists come from all over the world to jam the streets and experience the revelry. The quarantine was looming – we all knew it. That weekend, Steph and I stayed in as much as possible and did a lot of cooking. We went for a walk and the streets were rather empty. There was no word of an official lockdown, but people were already starting to stay inside. We reasoned that walking around and maintaining distance was ok. I went for a bike ride and the streets and bike lanes were eerily empty. It would be the last bike ride I’ve gone on for over 45 days. The next day, they announced the official lockdown. The rules would be strict. No leaving the house unless absolutely necessary. We could only leave to shop for groceries, buy medication, or to go to work (for authorized individuals).
The Lockdown
It was surreal yet very novel: almost exciting and thrilling. “This is crazy! What an insane world we live in!” Thoughts of how to be productive raced through my mind. Data projects, home exercises, time-lapse, cooking, writing, catching up with friends. The first week or so, time flew by as I immersed myself in projects, chatted with friends, worked on perfecting my routine and tried not to get too worried about the impending crisis.
After a week or so, the initial excitement faded away and the realization of the new state of the world brought moments of terror, anxiety and grief. The balance between consuming news and burying your head in the sand was a fine line to walk. On one hand, it’s important to stay updated, face reality, confront your fears, and set expectations. On the other hand, obsessively checking the news, paranoid thinking, frenzied cleaning, and being in a constant state of anxiety can drive a person insane. I walked the line as best I could, but there were times when I broke down. A memorable moment of despair and fear came when I heard on a podcast that 70-80% of the world is predicted to eventually be infected with the virus. Doing the calculations in my head, and realizing that people over the age of 70 have higher death rates, I realized in horror how at-risk my parents were – as well as many relatives. Most people in the world are probably in the same situation – worrying about loved ones and themselves. Everyone has a very real possibility that they will have a loved one die from the virus. It was a terrifying thought of powerlessness and fear. It’s as if we’re on a slow-moving train that is going to eventually crash – but we don’t know when it will happen or how bad it will be. A slowly increasing crescendo of terror and anxiety.
Meanwhile, most existing structures have been broken down. All plans have been completely wiped off the calendar. All bets are off. The future could not be more uncertain. Our ability to control things is very limited. The best thing most people can do is to simply stay at home. However, this does not engender a feeling of empowerment or purpose. Quite the opposite – it can create feelings of despair, depression, hopelessness, loneliness, and disconnection.
Our most important task is to fight through these feelings and do what we can to create positivity, hope, empowerment, and purpose in our lives.
The Bright Side
This situation has plenty of silver linings. Despite being physically isolated, we are reaching out to old friends and family and connecting virtually more than ever before. For most of us, we now have a massive increase in one of the most valuable resources of life: time. We have time to pursue that creative project we always wanted to do. That book we’ve been putting off reading. That skill we wanted to learn. The potential for growth and personal development are endless.
The reality
However, many people don’t have those luxurious. They have lost their job, they can’t work at home and they’re experiencing extreme financial hardship. Everyone’s situation is different. A person who lives alone could be very isolated, lonely, and longing for physical connection. A big family, crammed in a small apartment could be tearing apart at the seams, each person craving their own space to decompress. Existing cracks in relationships will become exacerbated by being in physical confinement. Abusive relationships and drug addiction issues will turn an already terrible situation into a neverending nightmare.
It’s impossible to fix all these problems. It’s important to be aware of them, but also essential that we maintain our focus on the things we can control. We control ourselves, our thoughts, the environment we live in, how we interact with the people around us.
The Value of Routine
Personally, my routine has become extremely important. The morning routine is sacred: drink water, brush teeth, make coffee, stretches, meditation, physical movement. I try to schedule my day in 30-minute blocks – also known as the Pomodoro Technique – a productivity methodology of devoting yourself to a specific activity (writing, studying, cooking, etc) for 25 minutes. The idea is that sometimes it’s hard to get started and the task seems overwhelming – but if you mentally commit yourself to just 25 minutes, it is easier to start. After 25 minutes, you take a 5-minute break and then have the option of continuing that task or moving on to something else. Personally, if I feel in the flow – as I am now – I will power through the Pomodoros and often ignore the 5-minute break. Other times, I will use the break as an opportunity to stretch and move on to the next task. This has been an invaluable asset in my toolset of surviving the quarantine. Dividing my day into manageable chunks helps pass the time, get started on new tasks, and not lose focus.
Cooking
Cooking has been another savior for me. In the last 2 years, I’ve been progressively more intrigued by cooking – experimenting in the kitchen, trying recipes from youtube, improvising. In the last month, my cooking has increased 10-fold. I find it very easy to lose myself in the process, to enter the highly desirable state of ‘flow’ where I’m completely immersed in the activity, I have no concept of the outside world, I have no sense of self, time and space are frozen and cease to exist. I’m measuring quantities of ingredients, checking the oven, slicing vegetables, tasting the concoction, adjusting spices as needed, and consulting the cookbook. Hours will pass without realizing it. At the end of the process, I have a delicious meal to eat. It’s my reward, my prize, the fruits of my labor. It makes one appreciate the small joys of life. Next, there are plenty of dishes to clean and a kitchen that needs a good scrub – another activity to lose yourself in. I can easily spend 4-5 hours a day in the kitchen. It’s a chance to be creative as well and experiment with new things.
Movement
A big challenge is achieving an adequate level of movement. I’m a person that can’t sit still – I need at least 10,000 steps per day to feel normal. In the previous life, I would need a particularly high step count, a bike ride, or a swim every single day. Most of those things are now impossible to do. I’ve been compensating by doing home workouts on youtube, walking up and down the stair of my building (being very careful not to touch anything, wearing protective gear and avoiding people if I hear anyone ), or simply pacing back and forth in my small apartment. At first, it was novel and exciting. I learned about some fun workouts on YouTube that you can do with no equipment at home. After a few weeks of these, I realized I had exacerbated an existing shoulder injury and had to stop. Lately, there is nothing I want more in the world to hop on my bike, ride as fast as I can, and feel the wind in my face. I often daydream of when the government will allow us to do it. I’ll leave a cartoonish trail of dust as I race out of my apartment, the second it’s legal to ride bikes. The only other memory that I have of looking forward to something so much is when I was a kid during the month of December, being so excited for Christmas.
Creativity
Dance
Sunrise photos
Silly Photos
Handling the Stress
Everyone handles the situation in different ways. My roommates have become obsessed with cleanliness and sanitation. People at the grocery store are on edge. There are undercover police officers in the street to verify that people are not violating the house arrest order. If they catch anyone on the street without a justifiable excuse (buying groceries, medication, going to work) they will hand out a hefty fine. A helicopter flies through the city, watching out for people gathering in the street or doing exercise on their rooftops. The other day, I was walking around the roof on Steph’s building and I heard them announce on the loudspeaker to get off the roof – they were off in the distance so it wasn’t directed at me – but it was terrifying nonetheless. I feel like I’m living in a police state, an alternate universe where the normal rules no longer apply.
Connections
I’ve consumed plenty of podcasts and news articles about dealing with the new Corona world. The common theme that continues to reverberate is of human connection: that although we are physically distanced, we must not be socially distant. Thanks to technology, we can be in constant contact with friends and family. My preferred method has been both scheduled and random video calls with friends and family as well as Whatsapp groups where we exchange photos, audio messages and texts of encouragement, support, and updates. I’ve found the audio messages to be particularly enjoyable – it’s like listening to a podcast of your friends/family! Another positive of this opportunity is connecting with old friends who I haven’t connected with in years – despite always having these tools available to connect, we haven’t had the motivation to touch base until now. It’s been a rewarding process. After having any human interaction (whether it be teaching an English class or connecting with an old friend) – I instantly feel better about life. It’s a noticeable mood enhancer.
I’m lucky that my romantic partner, Steph, lives 10 minutes away. Technically, we’re both supposed to stay at home and not see each other – but I take a calculated risk and visit her once per week. We live so close that I’m able to disguise my visit as a trip to the grocery store. I leave my apartment with an empty backpack and grocery bags – and head to the supermarket equidistance between her place and mine. That way, my presence on the street is justifiable. I return to her place with a backpack and bags filled with groceries. I’ve become more and more anxious about avoiding a fine – it’s important to have a receipt or other proof of justifying your presence in the street. The grocery bill is starting to add up and our pantries are filling up. I worry about how sustainable this technique will be in the long term. For now, it’s working and I”m so thankful that we can see each other. Having a few extra grocery items in the pantry is worth seeing her (and avoiding a fine for being on the street).
Pomodoro Dice
A recent quarantine-productivity hack that I’ve been enjoying is something I named “Pomodoro Dice”. I write down all the projects I have on a notepad and give each a number. I then use a random number generator to dictate which project I work on. It removes an element of choice in the process, which is something I sometimes struggle with. Without analysis paralysis, I let the gods of random numbers dictate which project I will work on. It’s been a fantastic technique to motivate myself to work on projects that I’ve been putting off (this blog for example). I then begin the pomodoros, often spending the entire day on the same project. Lately, I’m seeing the benefit of having a singular daily focus on a specific project. The startup costs of switching from project to project are significant. If I can go deep into a specific project and ‘get in the zone’ , it’s easier to stay there and continue making progress.
The Future and the Present Moment
The future is uncertain. Will I stay in Spain? That was the plan, but now I’m not so sure. Making plans for life is impossible and it’s a wasted effort to daydream about it.
The virus has changed everything – it has stripped our life down to the bare essentials and made us realize how vulnerable and mortal we all are. It makes us realize what is important: friends, families, human relationships. Things don’t matter. We are not our objects, we are not our jobs, we are not our experiences. I hope this opportunity will allow humanity to take time and reflect on everything, to meditate on life, the choices they’ve made, the choices that they will have to make. Not everyone has that luxury – so many people will be thrown into unmanageable debt or horrific sickness. This catastrophe will bring out the best and the worst in all of us. It will cause amazing change for the whole of humanity, but it will also cause unimaginable destruction to so many lives.
The uncertain future has the positive effect of forcing me to live in the present. During the lockdown, I’ve meditated every day and rabidly consumed podcasts and audiobooks related to meditation, mindfulness, Buddhism, and anything related to awakening. I’ve noticed increased pleasure and consciousness when I do simple things like stretching in the morning, savoring food, and moving my body. Without a doubt, this shift in mindset has made (and will make) a tremendously positive effect on my life.
I’m questioning my future, my life choices, what I want to create in the world. I want to help reduce suffering in others and make a difference.
The Where
Where do I want to live in the future? I think the bigger question is ‘what type of place do I want to live’? Lately, I’ve been daydreaming about living in a rural setting. During the confinement, I’ve yearned for the great outdoors; for open spaces, for places to roam. I’ve also realized how easy it is to live with very little and occupy your time. The chaos of cities is less appealing to me. Now, more than ever, large crowds and humans are something that everyone is a bit afraid of. Even after things return to ‘normal’ (whatever that is) – I think that this shift will remain and I will be drawn to a more rural environment where I can have a garden, feel the soil beneath my toes, make things, move around, have space and live a less complicated life. I’ve realized that I can adapt to any situation; even being stuck inside for 2 months. I have plenty of things to keep me busy, activate my mind, feed my creative spirit; this realization of self-reliance has given me the confidence to know that I can thrive anywhere.
Freedom Caminos
Towards the end of April, the rumor on the street was that on May 2nd, the government would allow us to exercise. By that point, the confinement and lack of freedom to go outside to move my body was really affecting me. I tried to stay positive, do indoor workouts, occupy my mind with projects and mindfulness, yet it was slowly wearing me down. I CRAVED movement. I dreamed of the wind in my face, pedaling like a madman, taking massive strides and swinging my arms with the freedom of knowing that I could walk or cycle to my heart’s content. Needless to say, I was extremely excited about the possibility of exercise, yet I didn’t want to get my hopes up. I vowed to not start internally celebrating until the Spanish government made an official announcement about the new policy.
That announcement came a few days before May 2nd: we would be permitted to exercise during the hours of 6 AM – 10 AM and again from 8 PM – 11 PM. The details weren’t clear – it was assumed that walking required you to stay within a 1 KM radius of your domicile – yet cyclists could go anywhere within the limits of the city.
I was ecstatic. Without a doubt, I would be milking the entire window of the morning four hours that were allotted to us. (The 8 – 11 PM window did not appeal to me because I’m usually in bed at 8PM reading a book and preparing for sleep – I’ve stubbornly refused to assimilate into the 9 PM dinner and 12 PM bedtime culture here).
May 2nd would be a day that I won’t ever forget. I was like a kid on Christmas Eve, eagerly awaiting the following days’ bounty of joy, happiness, and pure bliss. I laid out my clothes, packed my fannie pack with snacks, and did general prepping for the morning freedom Camino. At 5 AM I sprang out of bed into action. Make coffee, prepare water, wake Steph up, do stretches. At 6:01 (Steph was slow to awake) – we were outside and WALKING. FREEDOM. It was an incredible feeling. My stream of consciousness daily diary sums up the experience nicely:
Rising sun, peaceful park, smattering of runners, walkers and cyclists. Six-seven AM in the park. So amazing. Deprive humans of something and then give it back to them, they appreciate it SO MUCH! GOD, WHAT A GIFT! THE SIMPLE ACT OF WALKING. Madre mia. I want to camino every day – and possibly bike when I’m back at my place. LAPS. FUCK YEAH. So much fun to share it with Steph – we were both so pumped. Conversation was FLOWING. Synapses firing. Body and mind activated. Fucking motherfucking freedom camino god damn yes fuck whoo whoo.
It’s the little things in life. If this quarantine has taught us anything it’s to appreciate the little things. Be present. Just be and watch the fucking river the trees, hear the birds, the fucking birds chirping, they were on fire – so beatiful. The park so still. Just amazing to fucking walk. Thank you Coronavirus for giving me this gift to realize that nature if fucking lit man. That’s great, keep getting out here. Get up for the goddamn sunrise you will not regret it.
Patrick’s daily journal on the first day of the freedom camino.
Another solid Camino day yesterday. Discovering the hidden gems of the ‘hood. Listening to the birds, appreciating MOVEMENT! So powerful! Fucking amazing. Thank you corona for the gift of appreciation.
-Things are starting to seem normal! Bike stores, peluqeria, coffee to go – places are opening! Lots of movement today. People, action, life. It really is an end of an era. We’re no longer in lockdown. Amazing what 4 hours of freedom does. Steph put it nicely – we are now locked down 10AM – 8PM – basically the work day!
Maiden voyage of the bike ride today! So fucking amazing. Out the door by 5:59. Quick oatmeal / PB – quick and dirty – in the microwave, glob of PB and scarf it down – just like the good ol’ days of the van. That PB/Oats + coffee taste is fucking magic. Streets empty and peaceful. Along the beach, not too crowded. Silent sea. To alboraya (coast part) and back down – all the way past El saler, past turnoff to El Palmar (which is beyond Valencia municipality, technically we’re not allowed to go there, I believe). 50+km. Magic. Around 7:30-8, started seeing tons of bikers! Tour de france. What do they expect. Of course people will be out! So happy. Sun. Light. Teared up a bit when “Long may you run” came on spotify – such a perfect song. Nostalgia and realizing what is important. Back to the basics. Gawd, feeling alive again.
Maps
At some point during my 45 days of state-enforced house arrest, I came up with the idea to visualize the lockdown using GPS data from Google as well as GPX tracks from Garmin. A silver lining of this crisis is that it affords plenty of time to work on side projects (such as hacking on Jupyter notebooks and experimenting with maps).
This animation shows a weekly snapshot of my Android GPS data during 3 distinct phases. Each frame is a weekly mashup of all GPS data.
- Pre-Lockdown. 10 weeks of Normal, pre-COVID life.
- Strict Lockdown. 7 weeks of home quarantine.
- Lockdown with Exercise. Walking permitted within 1 KM radius of the home between 6–10 AM or 8–11 PM.
final walking routes:
final cycling routes:
[should put may stats: number walks, number rides, average KM of each, total KM ]
De-escalation, the end of Quarantine and the Beginning of the New Normal
The morning cycling and walking excursions occurred on a daily basis with a religious fervor. After being locked inside for two months, I had a lot of pent up energy which needed to be released in the form of exercise. After about two weeks, the novelty of being able to be outside started to wane. I become used to it and it was part of the everyday routine.
On May 18th, Valencia entered into “phase 1” of the Spanish de-escalation plan which allowed for the opening of outdoor terraces in bars and restaurants. In addition to our daily exercise hours (between 6-10 am and 8-11 pm) we were allowed to walk or cycle in the street as long as we were on our way to spend money (in a bar or restaurant). The change was instant; on the first day of phase 1, the terraces were packed with people enjoying cervezas and cafe con leches. People socialized, laughed, relaxed, and enjoyed life in the sun. It almost seemed normal; except for the fact that most people wore masks when walking around. After about a week of the new normal, the memory of the quarantine started to fade. “Remember when we were under house arrest for 45 days?” I asked Steph. It seemed like such a distant memory.
People generally followed the rules, but it was clear that many had already forgotten about the pandemic. Large groups of teenagers chatted without masks. Friends greeted each other by doing the traditional kisses and shoulder embrace. Pedestrians crowded the streets and made no effort to socially distance themselves while walking. It’s easy to find the isolated incidents of non-compliance because those stand out.
It was a strange time of transition. I had developed a nice Quarantine routine which was now no longer relevant to the current situation. Paradoxically, I felt that the increase in freedom constricted the routine and disrupted the new system that I created. Things were back to “normal” so now the priorities should change: I could socialize, teach classes in person, try harder to get an online job, go outside to exercise. In a way, the lockdown provided a refreshing limitation of options, which made it easier to structure the day and feel good about how I spent the time. Spending 3 hours experimenting in the kitchen is a fantastic, guilt-free use of quarantine time (when you can’t leave the house) – but when you have the freedom to be “productive” – for example, engaging in capitalist activities such as earning money – it feels like a poor use of time. The “I should do this”, “I should be doing that” voices started to come in. The routine was broken down and needed to be adjusted to the new world we were living in.
At the time of writing, it’s May 31st: the final day of phase 1. Tomorrow is phase 2 which completely eliminates the exercise hours and allows for more freedom to move within the province. More businesses and facilities are open (at a reduced capacity of course): pools, shopping malls, cinemas – to name a few. This feels like the official end of the (first) lockdown. For now, we are returning to normal. Masks will be worn, distances will be kept, social groups will be avoided – but in general, we are making strides to normalcy. We’re on the precipice of returning back to our old way of life, yet it feels highly insecure. The experts warn of the high possibility of another outbreak. South Korea and China – nations that have very thoroughly tried to contain outbreaks – are already taking steps backward to clamp down regulations and prevent a second spike. It’s my opinion that the current state of normalcy will eventually be broken. The government is likely trying to move forward with the de-escalation, knowing full well that a re-outbreak is inevitable – but wanting to please the population, inject life into the economy and win the support of the people. I’m cautiously optimistic and trying to simply savor the present moment and enjoy it while it lasts. Fortunately, I’ve gained invaluable tools to be prepared for another lockdown – which can be used anywhere.
The Endless Summer
The end of the quarantine phase marked the beginning of a new one: Steph and I moving in together. The universe continues to conspire to bring us closer together, this time due to both of us needing to find new apartments at exactly the same time. At first, we were going to continue to live apart – each looking for their own room in a shared apartment. After a bit of consideration, we both realized that it made no sense to do that. We were tired of living with random people, sharing a space with strangers, and not having something to call our own. We vowed to find our own place – this time for 3 months – June, July, August because we both have to return to North America in the Fall for Visa issues. It would be our Endless Summer – the final chapter in this season of the Spanish adventure. The timing coincided perfectly with the end of Quarantine.
Within 3 weeks we had found a place, signed the contract, moved in and organized everything to our liking. We found a lovely 1-bedroom in the heart of Ruzafa, a bustling and hip historical district of Valencia. The streets are lined with elegant and traditional buildings that ooze charm, there are bars, restaurants, vintage shops, used bookstores, fancy clothing boutiques, and hipster coffee shops within a 3 block radius. It is the perfect setting for a final summer in Valencia – but hopefully won’t be the last.