The Facts

When I imagined my year abroad in France, I never once pictured experiencing a level 3 nation-wide quarantine. But c’est la vie, I guess.

It is day two of the official coronavirus quarantine in France, and life feels unreal. All schools, restaurants, bars, cafés, cinemas, etc. are closed— even parks. Only essentials are open: supermarkets and pharmacies (and the occasional boulangerie because it’s France and bakeries are vital). Everyone who can work from home is doing so. If we leave our apartment we have to fill out a form stating the reason and carry a piece of identity or else face a fine of up to 135 euros. Valid reasons to leave are: health reasons, urgent family matters, personal exercise, work, and purchasing “necessary” provisions (is wine considered necessary?). Police have been checking people’s papers and pulling over cars to verify their reasons for being outside. It’s like living in a police state, which is surreal, because we are in liberty-loving democratic France.

They’re the toughest-health related restrictions in France’s modern history. And if they feel like war-time measures it’s because they basically are; in a surprise twist the enemy just happens to be shared by the entire world.   

The quarantine is for at least 15 days, but likely will continue for a month, if not longer. France has been one of the European countries hit hardest by the coronavirus, with over 9,134 cases and 268 deaths at the time I’m writing.

Things moved really fast. Last Thursday night we found out that all schools and universities would close down indefinitely, and two days later all restaurants and non-essential businesses were forced to shut down, too. Over the weekend, a friend of the family living in Germany had to abandon a ski trip in France and find a way to cross the German border before borders closed at midnight Sunday night. Hand sanitizer has been sold out for weeks, and many doctors don’t have masks to protect themselves. In supermarkets, shelves are empty and long lines have queued on sidewalks just to get in to the supermarkets.

I’m saying all this just to reiterate how fast things moved here and what extraordinary measures have been taken. It makes me wonder about the ways that regular life will be interrupted in the U.S. as the virus continues to spread.  

Reflections

One of my best friends in Lyon left to go back to Canada because of the virus. She told us about her decision on Thursday and left yesterday, and it feels like a month has passed since I found out rather than just 6 days. I was super close to her, and when she said she was leaving my heart broke. She was supposed to stay until July. I can’t imagine being in France without her.

On a more practical note, my daily life as an au pair has certainly changed a lot. I used to go to French language school in the morning, have 4 hours completely free in the afternoon, and work in the evenings, with busy Wednesdays as an exception. But now my schedule is rather amorphous. Theoretically, I’m with the kids from 11 to 1, and then they have quiet time and I work again from 3 to 6ish (major on the ish).

The 8-year-old girl has a lot of school work to do, and it can be difficult to find a balance between work and play. My host mom today mentioned that teachers don’t seem to understand that the parents are working too and don’t have time to do 4 hours a day of work with the kids— if I wasn’t there what would they do?

I’m lucky because my host parents are doing their best to respect my 25 hour a week contract, and I’m happy to work more hours to help out because they’re super stressed about work. But nevertheless one of the hardest aspects of not being able to leave the house is that it feels like my free time has been reduced. Because even when I’m supposed to be free during the day I’m still the point of contact for the kids, and the interruptions make it hard to focus or be totally at ease. They’ll ask for help with something, I’ll clean the kitchen, I’ll prepare meals. I’m never truly alone anymore, and as a person who cherishes alone time that can be a bit difficult.

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So long cooking classes, city meanderings, and coffee shops.

Another hard part is that my finite time in France has been drastically altered. I’m here to have new experiences, but now I can’t see my friends anymore, or go to a museum, or attend my classes, and sadly my trip to Amsterdam at the end of April will likely be canceled. I don’t even know at the moment if I should bother planning any travel for the summer. But then again, everyone, in countries all over the world, is experiencing this uncertainty and frustration— and worse. Worse for those who are sick or who have lost loved ones or jobs or canceled dream trips or weddings. In Northern Italy doctors have had to make the brutal decisions of which patients to give respirators and which to let die.

And on top of all this there is, of course, just general worry about the economy and health of loved ones. It’s a strange time, to say the least.

So I’m trying to see the positive. I’m exercising more than I used to and that’s been great. I’m saving money because I have nowhere to spend it. I’m trying to study French for at least an hour a day, and my host mom lent me some of her favorite bande-dessinées (comics) to read. I’m going to try to write more and reflect on what I want to do career-wise. Normally on weekends I’m not very productive because I have plans, but this weekend I know I can start a lot of things I’ve been wanting to start and that feels good. It’s like I’m being forced to focus on myself and spend time on things I’ve been neglecting.

Other positives: It’s nice to spend more time with my host parents. The air in Lyon is less polluted now that most cars are off the street. Tonight I heard applause from the street and I looked out the window to see people on their balconies, cheering as a food delivery truck passed by. 

It’s good to remember that even when the world is in chaos, people still spread positivity and kindness, and we humans are pretty resilient.

Anyway, somehow my short update morphed into a very long and rambling post. However it was therapeutic to write, and I don’t have the heart to cut anything, so I’ll just give a very sincere thank you to whoever has read this far. Much love from total confinement! Wash those hands, disinfect that phone, peace.