As I write this, most of the world is in lockdown. As a historian of medicine, I have resumed writing this blog to keep a record of experiences and feelings - maybe in the future this will be useful for someone.
The Coronavirus began affecting our lives quite early on, as ADC had planned to give a concentrated course on vertebrate palaeontology at Xian University in late February. S and I were to join him afterwards, over the Purim break, to visit Xian and Beijing. We cancelled this in January already, and booked tickets for a week in Berlin, March 9-14. By the time the first week of March rolled around, travel restrictions were already in place in parts of Europe and Israel was ordering people returning from the Far East and Italy into 14 days of self-isolation. ADC didn't want to start the second semester with 2 weeks of missed classes, and we dithered for a bit until March 5, when everyone returning from anywhere was told to go into self-isolation. We promptly froze our plane tickets and booked two nights in Mitzpe Ramon, at an olive farm in the desert called Karmei Har Hanegev. We spent three glorious days hiking and looking at flowers, just in the nick of time.
On Thursday the 12th I went to work as usual at the National Library. The reading rooms had been rearranged so that no more than 50 people could sit in each (a total of 100 for the two rooms, connected by an open door, so considered a single enclosed space. Usually there are 3 chairs at each worktable, and people sit on the two outer chairs (whoever gets there first puts their bag on the middle chair). Now there was a single chair in the middle of each table - and not all of them were occupied. It felt very eerie, and meanwhile, the Hebrew University announced that the beginning of the second semester was delayed, in order to enable all courses to be moved online. Most of the admin staff was moved to a 30% footing, and told to work from home, but research was supposed to go on as usual.
Over the course of the weekend, isolation measures began to be increased. By Sunday, March 15, the Library had closed to readers, but workers were still coming in. Schools had closed, but ADC went to work at the lab. A was around, as he had a doctor's appointment on the 17th, but it was not clear whether he would or should return from there to his gap year volunteering at the International High School at Givat Haviva - whose international students were mostly stranded there. On Tuesday, the university announced that labs were to be closed, too. ADC drove A back to Givat Haviva - it is a self-contained campus, once he's there, he's there for the duration, but he probably will continue to be able to move around freely over a larger area than most of us. On his way back, ADC picked up his work computer, several books, and a terrarium (as a back up) from the lab. A kindly gave permission for his room to become ADC's office/teaching space, since the current "study" is tiny and the computer there doesn't have all the programs he needs for work.
We added a thermometer to our online order from the supermarket, since the pharmacy had run out (I filled renewed prescriptions on Sunday, and was shocked at how cavalier the attitude was - no distancing in the line for the pharmacists at all!). I sent a work-related letter to Brill publishing house in the Netherlands and picked up S's latest Amazon order of comics on Wednesday. I had booked a slot for visiting the post office, but when I arrived the machine for taking numbers wasn't working. The door was wide open, despite the single-digit Celsius temperature, and up to 5 people were allowed inside: 2 tellers, 2 people being served and 1 waiting. The book-a-slot service was basically being used for crowd control. S was lucky, though, because since then Amazon has cancelled free shipping to Israel, and he'll be forced to read actual books when he finishes these comics.
On Thursday ADC and I went to the Mahaneh Yehudah market by car, rather than by the light rail, for the first time in literal years. Only the actual fruit and vegetable stalls were open, all the places selling prepared food and the bars and restaurants were closed already. Who knows when they will reopen? There were not many shoppers, but the open market seems healthier than the closed supermarket, to me.
We are well-stocked in terms of food, we are all managing to work at home (S is been taught through Zoom meetings, and they have been fairly successful), and we have enough space to move around. When the weather warms up and it is possible to sit outside on the balcony it will be better. I worry about people who don't have these luxuries, which until just the other day were taken for granted. I worry in particular about my parents, who are both in their 70s and immunosuppressed, so in the highest risk category. Add to this the fact that my father is still actively working as a pharmacist ... he's kitted himself out in a UV-proof face mask used in molecular labs over a surgical mask and is making sure to wear latex gloves, of course, but still. I also worry about my sister M, who is living with a flatmate and 2 cats, one of whom is elderly and sick (not to say dying). That must be so hard, not being with your family - but would it be better to be alone, like E down in Omer?
How we are coping: watching movies, having Zoom meetings with extended family (both mine and ADC's), and playing board games. I am knitting more than ever, ADC has persuaded S to start a 1000-piece jigsaw puzzle.
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