Running away

 At the end of June, Rio de Janeiro was reeling under Covid-19’s deadly onslaught.  I left my home confinement there to fly to seemingly virus-liberated France.  Now I am back in Rio.  The city is harnessing its bondless creativity to live with the lingering virus.  Minimizing the risks is a steep learning curve because contrary to Europe, Covid-19 was not contained.  Brazil is still battling a persistent first wave which seems to show signs of slowly ebbing (see graph below).  Except for Cariocas wearing face masks in the streets, life looks very much back to normal.  The locals convey the impression that the worse is behind them.  After a week in my home in Leblon, I feel like I ran away from the pandemics. 

                                                                     160 000 deaths so far

On the other hand, most European countries are facing a Covid-19 resurgence, the feared second wave. Donald Trump’s “America First” is ahead of everybody: the country is already riding a third wave.  With each new wave worse than the last, daily infections are reaching new records. 

I landed at Galeẩo Airport after an uneventful 11 hour-night flight.  My flight was reasonably full because the next flight out of Paris had been cancelled.  The corridors of the deserted airport were plastered with Covid-19 warnings and sanitation guidelines.  Since two thirds of the sprawling terminal was closed, mothballed, it has lately become user-friendly, saving fatigued passengers the usual mile-long trudge from the arrival gate to immigration.  Everything ran smoothly and my two kilos of vacuum-packed French cheese were spared the indignity of the customary Xray custom control. 

Due to Covid-19, Brazilian nationals are persona non grata in Schengen Europe, however many Brazilians carry a European passport which allows them to travel.  Foreign nationals can visit Brazil if they have the necessary travel documents, but the United States government keeps Brazil at level 4 Travel Advisory, which means Americans do not travel to Brazil.  Foreign tourists received the message and curfew-free and bargain-basement-priced Brazil has not regained its appeal.  Actually, except for mandatory mask wearing, taxi cabs running with their windows down, hand sanitizer everywhere, and temperature being taken at the entrance of malls, stores and some swanky restaurants, life and business are very much back to pre-pandemics level.  Nowadays, Brazilian tourists are the only tourists around to enjoy Rio’s natural attractions.  2021 Carnival has been cancelled; however, the organizers are planning to reschedule the famed samba school parades for July 2021.

                                                                  Face masks for all tastes and ages

Ensconced in cozy Leblon, I have not explored the city as I do not want to ride public transport.  I have been walking around Leblon and Ipanema, the two swank suburbs of Zona Sul and saw the economic scars the pandemics has left.  Many shops, hotels and restaurants are boarded up; sadly, I noted that the old traditional restaurants have suffered most.  The obvious reason is that their patrons of a certain age still do not venture out much.  At the same time, many other restaurants are reforming their front in order to create open terrace.  Outside tables are increasingly popular with patrons.  

Rio has always been a party town, and Leblon best epitomizes Carioca hedonism.  However, Covid-19 has changed the city in many ways.  There are two Leblons.  During the day, the virus is kept at bay by a mix of self-discipline and orderliness.  Pedestrians wear face masks and respect social distancing.  Senior citizens like me feel perfectly safe to venture out.  At night, the street scene radically changes when hordes of mask-free young revelers take to the streets and bars.  This carefree behavior may explain in part why Covid-19’s first wave is not ebbing fast enough[1].  The virus also gets a substantial boost on Rio beaches.  No Carioca will give up his/her weekend beach routine and the more crowded the beach, the better.  However, Covid has changed the beach demography: middle aged beach-goers are now far fewer than younger ones.  My friends no longer go.

I am not stuck in the past, but being a septuagenarian, I do not project myself in the future.  I therefore find millennials’ focus on living as if there is no tomorrow disturbing.  I believe that skipping evening beers in bars (notorious Covid Petri dish) for two weeks may not affect their mental health significantly but may substantially improve their economic prospects and that of everybody else.  Isolation may seem suicidal for those who value partying over materialistic pursuits.  In Europe, as a result many will end up on welfare.  I hardly respect this escapist thinking and believe that existential trade-offs confront all of us.

I may have been lucky to escape France’s second pandemics lockdown for the apparent freedom of Leblon.   I nonetheless keep up my Covid routine and self-curfew.  We do outdoors lunches instead of dinners; we forego movies on the pretense that there is nothing worth seeing; we walk around the same places pretending to spot something anew.  There is never a dull moment and I am still too busy to surrender to Netflix evenings.  I follow Alexandra Walkins ‘advice [2]: “Take any challenge as a creative opportunity”.  I keep in mind that a vaccine is the best creative opportunity right now.

 

 

---

[1] The other reason is that 70% of the Brazilian population is hand to mouth and works in the informal economy.

[2] Writer, copywriter, founder of EatMyWords.com