The waves of processing COVID-19 and more

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention COVID-19 in my blog as this global public health crisis has changed a lot and will continue to change a lot in the world.

It’s been quite a while since my last blog post, and it was intentional at first! I promise! I spent time aligning my website with my vision for it and have overhauled a lot of content and changed some of the pages and layouts. I wanted this blog to be ready to go for a series of adventures planned for 2020 and beyond. Each update and change heightened the excitement. I was looking for ways to share my adventure in a way that screamed me with those who take the time to read what I write. I was running around with my hopes as high as the sky and grinding like crazy at work even with the pandemic looming over my head.

Then I heard the (expected) news that all my travel plans for this Summer have been officially cancelled. And it’s not like I didn’t expect it. Part of my job is to keep tabs on the COVID-19 developments worldwide. I am constantly in email chains with several people at the Embassies abroad updating us with more developments, travel bans and flight restrictions. This knowledge did not soften the blow of the new. It still hurt. I am now continuously drifting back and forth between a state of numbness and grief.

I was looking forward to a work trip to Istanbul coincidentally planned a few days after my 24th birthday. At the time, the hard decision what choosing where to squander my PTO… Budapest had pretty much been decided upon even though it wasn’t set in stone. Even now, this planned trip meant more than I realized. I work with hundreds of language teachers traveling to the U.S. and feel disconnected with their experience. I have never spent extensive time abroad and felt a bit like an imposter. In a way, my Turkey trip was a way for me to compensate for the inadequacy I felt festering in me.

I had a few more work trips to the West Coast this summer planned, assuming I was able to successfully haggle with my boss and coworkers. I was particularly eye-ing events in Arizona and Oregon. As a note, summer travel was expected so at the very least I’d be sent to Syracuse or Arkansas, but I was sure with the right amount of pity speeches and puppy dog eyes I’d have my way. I hold Arizona dear to my heart as my first trip there held precious milestones like my first solo domestic flight and my first time in the West Coast. I had hoped to reunite with Kayla again and spend more wholesome time with her. The pandemic reminds you how big the distance is Everyone seem so much further away. A trip to Oregon, ranked consistently high on my list, was much desired after since I moved to the city. While the slower lifestyle isn’t for me, the city has me itching to go to the mountains, lakes and forests away from the crowds and city noise for a short break. A small apartment only makes that longing worst.

I mourn these trips and so many things remind me of them. I prepared an art travel journal to come along for the ride this summer and beyond. I had the yearning to have a piece of my experience documented for my future self looking back at my twenties. It took all kinds of planning! What to document? What size book to buy? And then there was spending weeks researching and trying to obtaining a new watercolor set and paintbrush that was equipped for travel and ready for early sunrises and a good cup of local coffee. I still have pins on my pinterest ranging from things to do to which suitcase should go down in history as my first personal suitcase. I heard just yesterday from my roommate that the travel bag I bought to hold my journal and fit work papers/conference booklets shipped at last and was in great condition… I wonder when I can take a look at it too..

It was easy to be numb and brush it off. As with other international education professionals, times are wild! Each day the situation evolves and so many of my colleagues are doing their utmost for their programs and grantees. It is so overwhelming. It is easy to get lost in the emails and the meetings. I was told busy season would be crazy. But COVID-19 has presented far more complications. And it continues to reaffirm that 2020 sucks.

While being numb and listless has been manageable with the onslaught of work coming my way, the grief and anger have taken its toll. I find more reasons to be angry and sad when the numbness subsides.

Travel is just one thing ruined. I am away from loved ones for my own health and theirs. I see my neighborhood community struggling to make it out of this. Never did a craving for Trinidadian doubles from Golden Place hit so hard and so…bad. And more than the food, I think about the countless people. Is the man at the store, considered as an Uncle of sorts, doing alright? Will he be around when this is over? I worry for my mother on the frontlines as she is more scared of COVID-19 than she was about Ebola, SARS and other vicious viruses combined. I worry for my aunt, also a nurse, who contracted COVID-19 and is in a lot of pain. My family is dealing with other crises and I’m not there to help them when they need it most. My sister is angry at the world and won’t listen to anyone. I call and try to reason with her only to give up. I too am angry at the world. I’m angry at the government. I’m angrier than usual at my roommate. I’m angry at the virus and people disregarding it. I’m angry at the wifi. I’m angry that the health care system and people are paying for selfishness and stupidity. I’m angry I keep running out of lives in that dumb phone game I keep mindlessly spending my money on. I keep shaking and my headaches get worse. It’s hard to sleep. It hurts. Everything is sore from doing nothing. This really sucks.

For now, I’ll keep mourning and surviving. It feels weird to do either as I have much to be grateful for. But, small or big, things are different and its unexpected. Hope and positivity are hard to keep alive in these times. I’ll keep collecting good things and post them on this website in the interim. Maybe not often, maybe not soon. Each unfinished post is bittersweet. The world will look very different when we make it out of this. I fear that places and people that I found comfort in will be gone. Processing all of this is ongoing and hard.