Author: Gran Colombia

As is typical of me, it has been a very long time since I posted my last blog. Either I am too busy to take the time, or I am stuck doing nothing and have little to say. That has been the case these past three months. I have been stuck in a modern jail called quarantine. 

It seems there are so many theories about this, but my instinct tells me that requiring people to sit indoors just cannot be good. It seems to be more than just “flattening the curve”. I also read everywhere that the intention was to flatten the curve, to spread out the illness over time to not overwhelm the medical system. Ok, that made sense, as it did for the entire world. We got it. Billions of people put their lives on hold in order to help the next person, their family, and maybe even themselves. It began as a good moment. In my area, people would go outside, on balconies, etc., at 6 PM and bang pans to tell the world “we are still here”. It was said that it was to show support to the medical people, but it was a cry from social people that they did not want to lose that connection. That ended after a week or so. Then we would see a Mariachi band go through the neighborhood hoping to cheer people up, stopping at each building for a few songs then move onto the next. 

Yes, we can venture out, but there is nowhere to go. Here in Colombia, they designated one day a week you can go to the store, bank, or pay utilities based on your ID number. At first, that day moved around, and caught many people off guard. They would show up only to learn last week’s number had now changed, and they would have to return home and wait again. The only exception I saw was the pharmacies. It seemed you could go anytime. When you went to the store, there would be long lines, maybe a block long. The nice thing here in Armenia, Colombia was that few things were in short supply. But as time wore on… the first month, the second, and then the third, the lines grew shorter until there were no more lines. You just knew that many people no longer had money to shop with. 

Now one bright light was that home deliveries, which were always there, became easier to work with, and offered many very serious discounts. You could buy huge amounts of restaurant food for half price and spread it out over several days. But still, we were all marking time. No one is living. And every time we approached the designated day to re-open, it would be extended another two weeks. We are now, as I write, on our third extension. We were to open Monday, June first. But in the paper last night, they said it will be “sometime in the first part of June”. It is a Colombian version of Charlie Brown and Lucy with the football. Just as we run up to the approach, knowing we had perfect form to score, Lucy would snatch the football away in the last second, just to watch us fly in the air and land on our ass.  

People here in Armenia have been taking all this with a smile {or perhaps that was just printed on the facemask). I wonder constantly when that patience and goodwill will wear off. I know quite a few people here, and many I know are really hurting. A friend’s sister and her three children we learned had been without food for about a week. I had to divert what little I had to that situation. But I also knew of others. Some of my friends are doing fine. One is a teacher as S.E.N.A. and she is still teaching classes, but online, so she still gets paid. Another works for the Justice Department and he is still paid for working from home. Another has a restaurant, and he is trying to hold it all together with home deliveries, but I know he is just days away from going bankrupt. 

His story was a typical Colombian story, that said if you work hard and play by the rules you will find success. He did just that. He made the most amazing tacos. I did a tribute video about his tacos. He made them by hand and fried them to perfection. They were fresh, tasty, and very delicate and crunchy.  The shell made them special. No one else takes such care. He bought very good quality meat, and the freshest of veggies. His tacos are amazing. He began as a street cart. He eventually earned enough to rent a small restaurant in the best area of town. I did not go as often as I should have. 

He has been there less than a year when this all hit. Now he will likely have to begin all again and carry debt he never had before. I know he would rather take his chance with a virus than to lose all he worked for. 

There does not seem to be any rhyme or reason to how this is handled, either here or in the USA.  The story constantly changes. First, masks hold no protection, which I happen to know as a fact is true. But then it was recommended you wear masks. So, the entire world bought or created their own masks. Then is was highly contagious and spread on surfaces, living for days. Not so long ago the CDC announced that wasn’t the case. We also get a daily dose of COVID numbers… so called stats. Reminiscent of the Viet Nam war, whenever nightly news broadcast displayed the number of US Military killed that day. Yet we now learn, by confession, that the numbers have been cooked. You could die falling out of an airplane, but if you showed any sign of the virus, it was a COVID death. 

When it all began, the W.H.O. announced the death percentage at over four percent. This left the world scrambling for the exits. You could hear worldwide rattling of keys and clanging of the metal doors, and then the world fell silent. We have been living in the ill-conceived, ill-informed silence ever since. People keep proclaiming that it is “the science” as though God himself came down to proclaim. Yet, it has all been guesses that continue to change. Any area that did not fall into lock step were vilified buy the world media. Yet later we learned that most of these areas ended up being the least affected. We learn that over sixty percent of cases are contracted by those isolated indoors, as happened to me, and that thirty to fifty percent of deaths came from nursing home in the hardest hit areas. Sweden was vilified for there “personal choice” method, as their numbers looked bad. You heard constant claims how Norway and the other neighbors were all so much better. Yet when you removed the nursing home numbers form the stats, you then saw a very different picture. One thing to come out of this is that present day nursing homes are ground zero for disaster and need a complete change for the future. 

So, while the “leaders” of the world dictate our fate, remove our rights and imprison us, we discover that it was all based-on conjecture, guesswork, and politics. It is the year that the world went mad. We all got a healthy dose of what happens when we allow governments to have any control over our lives. They will find a way to extend that control “for our own good” as if we are all children and cannot make our own choices. Do I sound bitter? You picked up on that, right? I have been patiently waiting, and after three months I am ready to begin living again. I am on the downhill side of my life. I may have twenty years left, and I may have one. I have signs that my cancer may have returned, but of course there is nothing I can do about that since it is not permitted to have regular medical care, as we might overwhelm the hospitals that lay empty with lay-offs happening daily. I dodged a bullet last time. I was told I would die and somehow, I recovered. I have had a great five years since, but if I have it again, and I continue to go months with no treatment, this time will probably live up to that past prediction. 

But for me, worse than that, is that knowing my days are limited, I must sit in my little apartment with no real life. No exploration or travel. No meeting new people. No inspiration for new videos. I cannot return to Cuenca to visit friends. I am living rudderless with my destiny totally out of my hands. I will deal with it as I have dealt with issues my entire life, but I do wonder at what point will I tire of “being strong”. 

I suppose by this point, any reader may be looking forward to the next year of me not writing in this blog. Hey, I don’t blame you. This was not a very happy blog. But I use this blog to pour out my real feelings, and they are more for myself than for anyone else. Knowing they might be read by a stranger just gives it more value to me. More meaning to the risk of being honest. 

I suspect that my story is a similar story of millions. Our lives are stuck, out of our control. While the masters of our fate argue about the details, we live in a death spiral. Loss of jobs and businesses, loss of savings, and loss of life. Yet a very few because of the virus. 

So today is my day to go out. I have bills to pay, and a few things I need from the store. But the truth is, today I don’t even feel like it. Yet if I do not, it will be another week before my days comes around again. I am a Friday guy. So, I will go. But my heart isn’t in it. I just want to go to sleep until it is all over, then wake up and enjoy life again. If they would just stop extending the prison sentence, I could even look forward to that day with excitement.  

Other than that, my life is great. See you again one of these days.