Nothing too much had changed in San Miguel, where I had been for the last while. Few restaurants remained open and meeting places were closed, but the sun shone and people still sat in the Jardin, the main square.
Things changed when I reached Mexico City airport. It was like entering a surreal film, all airport workers wore masks.
On arrival at Vancouver, my friend picked me up, handed me a face mask, and I sat in the back seat as far away from her as possible and she drove me straight home.
She let me off with the groceries I had requested, I shut my door and didn’t leave my premises for 14 days.
After an extended stay away from Bowen, I normally have a little routine to reconnect. I go for a walk each day, check out the grocery stores and generally see as many friends as possible. I also become aware that my place has too much stuff and start finding things for the Knick, Knack Nook.
But this time the most difficult thing to contend with was that I had no wi-fi. I felt like my lifeline to the world and the friends I had just left behind had been cut off.
My Facebook addiction hit me badly. The first couple of days I paced around the place, like a tiger who had just been put into a cage. It was too cold for time in the garden and there wasn’t much to see yet.
CBC became my constant companion but I often had to turn it off due to the continuous COVID-19 reports.
Then became a long wait to get hold of Telus. Eventually I found out that the new modem they had sent me six months before actually had the wrong plug. Miraculously it had worked when it was initially set up.
I was told a technician would come to the island five days later and bring a new modem, giving me installation instructions through a video call from his van. He could not enter my house.
Unable to access video on my phone, I worried about how this could happen.
With advice from a friend who asked if I had my old modem, I started to search and at 2:30 a.m. I find the modem -- the old plug works, Halleluja.
I cancel the tech but at 8:30 a.m. he calls to say he is on his way with a new modem. He insists on leaving it on my porch.
I spend the next two days glued to the internet connecting with friends and family near and far. I realize social isolation would have been so much harder before internet.
A trusty friend asks me for my shopping list and gets the important things I forgot from my first list.
Out of the blue, a young Bowenian mother emails me saying, “Are you on Bowen. I have been baking bread and would you like a loaf.” I quickly respond “yes.” That evening a delicious loaf arrives on my porch.
Another lovely habit I have in the spring is to pick nettles, which I think of as a dietary cleanse.
Unable to hitch to where the nettles are while the two-metre distance applies, I bemoan this to a very dear young man, whom I call my Bowen grandson. A few days later he calls and says, “There’s a bag of nettles on your porch.”
As I talk to him in the living room, he says, “Well come to the window then, I’m still outside.” We have a lovely conversation through the window.
I am not getting enough exercise, despite free exercise and dance programs on YouTube and Zoom. I seem to be eating up a storm and wonder if I will get plump, with so much sitting at the computer.
On warm days I pick weeds in the garden and have discovered that young dandelion leaves and bittercress are really nutritious. I add them to the soups that I make almost every day, putting everything that has been stored into them -- including dried beans that have been there for years.
I am not planning to go off island unless I have to. After 24 years here, I realize that this little piece of earth is very much part of my history.
Bowen people who have partners and children here, how fortunate you are.
I ponder when I can hug my friends again or even be close enough to look them in the eyes. As I ride the waves with my emotions, I know that I can walk in the forest, get off trail and hug a few trees.
I realize quarantine wasn’t too bad. Perhaps my little garden saved my sanity. Now even walking to my mailbox takes on new meaning.
At first it was a little strange going into the General Store or the Ruddy Potato.
All in all I am constantly reminded how lucky we are to be living on this island.
Please everyone keep your social distances until we are out of the woods.
I long for the days when we can get back to hugging. And please don’t come too near to that woman hugging a tree.
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