Day 13 (Zack)
First day post-quarantine
There are a few interview questions that, if you listen to NPR long enough, you’ll hear over and over. The reason being, they often yield great responses. Those two questions are, “what surprised you most about this experience?”, and “what did you learn from everything you went through?”
As Lisa and I wrap up this strange experience, I’m going to attempt to answer those two questions to shed light on this ordeal, for myself, and for anyone who’s about to embark on a multi-week vacation inside their living room.
What surprised me about this experience?
The biggest surprise for me was how lonely I felt at times. I’m outgoing, but I’m also comfortable spending time on my own, seeing friends once a week. Towards the middle of our confinement though, there were times when I ached for normal, face-to-face conversations.
At one point, our pals Eitan and Lonia swung by to deliver homemade Purim cookies. We made excited small talk through the crack in our door -- thank you so much for coming, what’s the world like out there? After a while, we waved goodbye and I watched them descend the stairs towards our front yard. As they left, I felt a pain in my chest.
“Come back!” I wanted to shout. “Hang with us!” For a half hour afterward, I felt loneliness surround me like a thin blanket. The corners of our living room seemed darker. The remaining days we had in isolation felt like a long dark tunnel that would take far too long to reach the end of.
That feeling eventually passed, but it surprised me how quickly it crept up. I can’t wait to spend more time with all those people who were so kind to us during our stay-cation. That is, if Corona fears haven’t turned us all into hermits.
What did you learn from this experience?
Mainly that Lisa and I can exist peacefully in isolation, and still have a good time. More specifically, that we have the ability to de-escalate a fight quickly when we need to.
There was one instance where things got a little heated. Instead of letting our tempers rise, we walked to separate rooms, cooled out, apologized, and that was it. Parties heard. Fight over.
That’s a superpower I want to maintain long after our stay in the safe room we’ve called home is over.
What now?
That’s the tricky part. The world feels like a completely different place from the one we left in early March when we climbed into our apartment. Many grocery store shelves are intermittently bare, Israel shut all non-essential business, and Lisa and I will still be working from home for the foreseeable future.
Socally, I have no idea how our friends are spending time together. Since the government has encouraged social distancing, have dinner parties become verboten? Will my poker group dare to crowd around the same table? And what about us? Will we feel comfortable hosting friends without the constant alarm-clock beep -- “corona, corona, corona” -- pulsing through our heads?
We stayed inside for two weeks, only to reemerge and find that the entire world is now self-quarantining. I enjoy being a trendsetter, but I would rather this one hadn’t caught on.
After the past two weeks, I know we won’t be able to live happily without some kind of social closeness beyond our four walls. Hoping we can nail a healthy balance of protecting ourselves while not becoming Smeagol from Lord Of The Rings, hording our hand sanitizer and refreshing news feeds from the safety of our bed.
Today - 8AM
Aside from taking out our garbage, this morning was the first time I’ve journeyed outside in two weeks. I mean, really outside. Free to walk in any direction I choose, for as long as I want.
I strapped on running shoes, like I haven’t done since early March. I walked past our front yard and onto the sidewalk, farther than I’ve ventured in weeks. Then I started running.
I jogged the path I always take leading from our apartment toward the Mediteranian. As I ran, it felt like the world was moving too quickly. Like I was riding an electric-bicycle for the first time. The scenery rushed past jittery, in fast-forward.
I laughed out loud. ‘This is the fastest I’ve moved in forever,’ I thought.
Did running always feel this way, and I just hadn’t noticed? Is it safe to move this quickly? I worried I might get overzealous and stumble. I felt high.
I jogged past quiet playgrounds and coffee shops surprisingly open for the day. Customers waited in line, leaving a meter of space between each other. As I huffed past, all I could hear was my breath filling my ears.
After 10 minutes, I reached the stone pier, which leads to an expansive view of the mediteranian. The sun warmed my back, throwing my shadow in front of me as I closed in on the railing. Finally, I gripped it and looked over.
The mediteraninan stretched in front of me. Blue, flat, enormous. Ankle-high waves rolled slowly onto the beach 50 feet below. To my left, way off in the distance, stood Jaffa, Tel Aviv’s sister city. Fuzzy in the early morning haze, the city looked like a postcard, still and beautiful, jutting into the water.
It didn’t look real. None of it looked real. Everything my eyes took in felt slightly oversaturated. The sun on my face felt just like I’d remembered, only better.
‘Wow.’ I kept repeating to myself, over and over again, like a mantra. ‘Wow. Wow. Wow.’