October 29, 2020

It's nearly Halloween. What a weird year.

What is Halloween gonna look like during a pandemic?

We live in Dartmouth Nova Scotia now, one of the few places in the world where the virus is mostly contained. As a resident of the "Atlantic Bubble" we are also assured that no visitors are allowed in without quarantining. 

Halloween is on. That's what I'm saying. Children are free to trick-or-treat but with a few restrictions.

For the kids:

• No more than 10 people in a "crew"
• stay 6 feet away from kids you aren't with
• do not sing or shout for candy?
• gently knock instead of using doorbells
• do not take treats in a situation where everyone has to reach into the container
• sanitize your hands regularly

For the Adults (giving out candy):

• sit on your porch if possible to greet kids
• regularly clean and disinfect door handles and knobs
• regularly wash hands 
• try to have only one person give out treats
• use tongs or utensils to hand out treats??!?
• do not ask trick or treaters to shout for their treats??
• wear a mask

We've gone ahead and stocked up on treats, decorated the house, but we haven't yet implemented a plan for how we'll actually dispense the candy. I wasn't planning on having children scream for their treats, so at least we've got that down.

I've always loved Halloween. Being a child now is probably rather strange. You'd probably not really understand the threat, you'd probably easily normalize all the weird stuff we have to do.

Today we have no new cases. I am well aware of how lucky I am to be in that scenario. We still aren't free. We have to wear masks everywhere, we have restrictions on gathering, and most businesses are struggling. 

As a freelance writer, it's been a challenge to make money. Clients are fewer, competition is fierce, people are desperate for work. 

I'm getting by. The government has implemented financial aid that covers gig workers. I'm grateful. It's enough to supplement us and keep things afloat. It's enough to give me peace of mind while I hustle about trying to up my skills and find work. While my husband goes back to school to learn a trade. 

It's enough. 

It cost us about $12,000 to get back to Canada and get our lives sorted. That was a pretty big blow.

But we'll be ok. I am extremely aware of how lucky we are. The constant anxiety looming over this virus is a very real thing. When we were surrounded by it just breathing felt dangerous. 

I remember when masks were first suggested in Serbia. It was a controversial topic at the beginning of the pandemic. Governments across the world were widely proclaiming "there is no need", "there's no evidence it protects you". 

Those of us who have worked in health care and experienced times where masks were mandatory to avoid transmission of viruses let out a collective "huh?".

The media was flooded with pictures of people in Wuhan wearing masks, even tiny dogs wore masks.  

At some point, everyone in the world agreed that masks were now needed. In fact, many places made it mandatory. This obviously resulted in masks being sold out worldwide. 

In Serbia we didn't run out. There was a sense of order in the chaos there. People with a history of wars and embargos and political unrest almost seemed even more comfortable in the climate. 

We didn't run out of anything except flour and yeast. Serbians do love their bread. 

Once it was globally confirmed that masks would help prevent the virus, everyone was now in a mask. Some people got creative with bandanas and scarves. Most people stuck with the classic blue medical mask. 

We picked up ours when we found out they would soon be mandatory. If we wanted groceries every again, we needed masks. We hit an Apoteka around the corner from our apartment and bought 10. It was about 700 dinars. 

The first time wearing them out was bizarre. Everyone walking by had masks, many had gloves. It was bizarre for us to walk down the same street we'd walked a thousand times and suddenly be greeted by waves of masked faces. 

The new normal has yet to feel normal.