Covid Christmas in Dublin

No one expected Christmas 2020 to be normal. Why should it when everything has been turned upside down this year? 

We could have flown to the States for Christmas, but with 200,000 new cases a day, that seemed a folly. 

Also, we wouldn’t risk seeing my parents and passing on the virus to them if we picked it up in our travels. 

Grace and Jack were in Dublin. Our sons were in the States. I knew that Ireland was allowing Americans to enter, so I proposed we all meet in Dublin.

 Spencer and Kaitlin decided it was too risky. They were very mature about it. Tucker, faced with a Christmas alone, decided to join us. 

We knew it wouldn’t be a touristy trip, just a family get together. 

We rented an Airbnb. We sprung for an extra bedroom because Tucker often complains that as the only single person he gets stuck on the pull-out couch. 

The apartment was less than a mile from Grace and Jack’s apartment. 

We all arrived on Sunday December 20. Earl and I flew from Barcelona, a couple of hours from our home in France. 

The Covid situation was changing quickly. Suddenly, France and a number of other countries were closing their borders to the UK. Of course, Ireland is in the EU, not in the UK, but it made me nervous when friends got stranded in England. 

And Spain declared that everyone visiting from Red areas needed a Covid test to enter. It was kind of a puzzle because Ireland, with a low number of cases, isn’t a red area, but France where we originated, is. 

The rule was that we needed a test 72 hours before the flight, which would have been Christmas Day. I couldn’t find any place giving Covid tests on the day after Christmas and the only tests at the airport I could find were drive-up tests. We didn’t have a car. 

We decided to risk it, calling ourselves in transit to France. We have our carte de séjour or résident card, an electric bill to prove our address, and our parking ticket to show that our car was awaiting us. We would promise to make a quick getaway from Spain. 

So all of this was going through my mind as we tried to enjoy a family Christmas. 

We managed to cook a few meals on the wonky apartment stove and Jack cooked a delicious beef Wellington for our Christmas dinner. I had to make Tucker’s favorite holiday dish corn casserole but there was no corn meal or flour and no creamed corn to be found in Ireland. I made my own creamed corn and found a recipe that used flour. 

Grace made a delicious apple pie. 

We played family games most nights and had takeout a few nights. We walked and shopped and watched in amazement as the sun set each afternoon at 4ish. 

It was great to be together, even though we missed Spencer and Kaitlin. 

Tucker flew out this morning to the news that the US wasn’t accepting travelers from the UK. I told him some people in the US might not know that Ireland isn’t in the UK. 

As I write this, he’s on his plane, nearly to New York. 

Earl and I are waiting for our flight. The airline checked to see if we had the necessary health form required by Spain. We do and they waved us on. 

Fingers crossed that by the time you read this, we have safely landed in Barcelona and roared off in our little Audi back to France. 

Four Weeks of Confinement - So Far

I imagine that life in France isn't that different from life in the States right now. 

I go out for walks or to the grocery store. 

I huddle around the coffee truck during the twice weekly market, "accidentally" running into friends as we surreptitiously lower our masks and sip café crème in the crisp fall air. 

France has been under quarantine since October 30th. Here, it's called confinement -- con-feen-mahn. 

Our area of France, the Aude department, has had low numbers of the virus throughout, but we're surrounded by cities that have high numbers and full hospitals.

What does confinement mean? It means that every time I leave the house, I fill out a form that says why I am going out. Americans might scoff at this idea, but it does make you think twice about why you're going out and where. You also have to "certify" that you are telling the truth when you generate the form. 

So why can I go out? For 1 hour a day within 1 kilometer, I can go for a walk or exercise. I'm also allowed to go shopping -- only for essential things. The big groceries have blocked off sales of socks and underwear and books and candles -- anything the government deems non-essential, because it isn't fair to the small shops which sell those things that have had to close. Of course, people just order them from Amazon, so they've really made more business for Amazon. 

Today's package from Amazon should have a stuffed panda bear in it for Louis Catorze, our overgrown kitten, to attack

My morning walk today, frost on the ground and the sun moving toward the mountains

Today as I started my walk, I imagined sitting at the café in the main square and sipping coffee with friends. What a luxury that is. First, to gather with friends most mornings just to chat. Second, to have the time to linger over coffee and maybe a second one. To cross the square to the bakery and bring back a pain au raisin or a croissant abricot and break it apart, scattering the crumbs onto the sidewalk then shooing away the pigeons that eye the crumbs. How many mornings have I spent savoring coffee with friends?  The pocket of my trench coat still holds three little chocolate squares that come with our morning coffees - just in case of emergency. 

Another morning walk, this one along the river on flat ground. 

The last confinement, Grace and Jack were here with us. We were very careful because several people in our town had Coronavirus. We were keeping each other safe. 

This time, we aren't as careful. We see people a couple at a time, maybe coffee in our kitchen or a glass of wine in their salon. If the weather's nice, of course, we stay outside, to limit exposure even more. 

People have rebelled against this lockdown more so than the spring. 

"The numbers haven't come down," one friend lamented when we met at the grocery store to talk and shop while wearing masks. 

"But it hasn't been two weeks yet," I pointed out. It takes two weeks for the virus to stop spreading. And sure enough, on the following Friday, the numbers began to creep down. 

We had an 8-week lockdown in the spring and we had a pretty normal summer. The quarantine was worth it for the lives it saved and the feeling of normalcy throughout the summer. People in the States have been in a perpetual quarantine since March if they're being careful. 

Our area may not have needed to lockdown based on the cases, but if the whole country doesn't quarantine, the virus continues to spread and grow. 

In our "normal" summer, we skipped meals with the entire town, but we did enjoy concerts and dancing. We drank outside in bars. 

We visited castles with Grace and Jack, along with Jim and Theresa.

Stone built on stone

We traveled to Nice and Aix en Provence,

A glorious fountain

I went on a hike with my friend Claudine

 and Earl went on a hike in Spain. 

Along El Camino de Santiago

So if this lockdown of four weeks or six weeks helps us have a "normal" Christmas. Then I'm willing to stay in my house and go our for gorgeous walks, watching the fall days pass. 

And I'll also be counting my blessings. 

Another day, another view of the mountains

The Last Day

As we walked home Thursday night, the clock ticking toward 11, Earl said, “I’m really glad the day is over.”

“I guess I pushed it too much,” I replied as we removed our masks, leaving centre ville behind. 

We laughed but on Thursday, the last day before a month-long quarantine, we tried to squeeze every bit of life out of it. 

The day was glorious with sunshine and tinkling yellow leaves in the breeze. 

A small vineyard shows off its fall colors

With the announcement Wednesday night that everything would shut down on Friday at 12:01 a.m., we made a plan to get some necessities on Thursday. We knew the grocery stores would remain open, but we had slacked off and let staples get depleted, and the shelves of the stores often go bare the first few days. 

So Earl dropped me at the grocery store at 10 til 9. It opened at 9 and there was already a line. The line behind me was even longer than this. 

A grocery cart is called a chariot in French. The couple in front of me must have been
taking advantage of shopping together, which we aren't allowed to do
during confinement. Only one person per household. 

Earl went on to fill the car up with gas. I had driven to the Mediterranean the day before and the gas light came on as I returned to town. Gas prices will probably go down, but I didn't like to have an empty car in case of an emergency. 

He also went to the hardware store Mister Bricolage to get some supplies we need for patching and painting the walls of the office, along with continuing to sand and repair the shutters. During the last shut down, the hardware stores weren't open at the beginning, then they opened to builders, and finally they opened to everyday people stuck at home and wanting to make improvements. 

By 9:30 or so, we were through the long lines and returning home with the bottle of Beefeater gin since the Bombay shelf was empty. We have definite necessities. And a few other bags filled with yogurt, broccoli, potatoes, cat food. You know. 

We walked to the small market in town for decaf coffee and a few other things that I had forgotten -- oatmeal and cocoa. Then had coffee in our favorite café, Le Colibri, which means hummingbird. We talked with the owner about what she would do during the lockdown and she showed up pictures of their horses and farmlands where they would work while they couldn't run their café/bar. 

Earl had scheduled a last minute quarantine haircut, and lucky for us, Melissa came to our house to do it. I taught Chinese students while Earl went to meet Jack for lunch. Jack's wife Jules is still in the States, so he will start the quarantine alone. 

After I finished teaching, we climbed on our bikes for a ride. During quarantine, we are allowed to exercise for one hour a day within one kilometer of our homes. This was our last chance for a long ride. 

Every bike ride requires a stop at a cafe

We biked about 13 kilometers to the town of Couiza and met some friends there for drinks. They were supposed to be coming to our house for dinner on Saturday, but now that is cancelled. No friends. No interaction in person through December 1, at least. 

Enjoying the sun

We pedaled home before the sun set, a little earlier here in Quillan because of the mountains. 

Then we walked back to the Colibri for drinks with friends. It was to be our "French-speaking" group which has been meeting on Fridays, a combination of women who do both belly dance and tango. Isabelle, our tango teacher, came for drinks but couldn't stay for dinner. So from 6-8 we drank and laughed, enjoying that we could be together. 

I had suggested dinner, reminding people that this was our last chance not to cook for a month. Restaurants plan to offer take out starting next week, so that may not be strictly true, but it seemed like a good excuse.

So at 8, we walked over to Pizzeria les Platanes. We had reservations for 8, but we had to separate into two tables of four because only groups of 6 can gather. Inevitably, the women sat together and the men sat together. 

Cheers

Men's selfie

Photo interrupted by Olivier, the always charming waiter. 

We ate and drank and ordered dessert and some ordered coffee, reluctant to leave knowing that we wouldn't be together again for a month. We watched the waiters turn over the tables and seat more people. That doesn't usually happen in France. People eat and linger, but everyone was desperate for one last dinner out. Some people came in as late as 10:30 and we wondered if they would be finished eating by the time the lockdown began at midnight. 

At our table, we talked about meeting furtively on walks or zoom meetings and then we said goodbye.

The month will fly past and before Christmas, hopefully, we'll be huddled under outdoor heaters sipping hot chocolate and amaretto.

Lockdown Eases

On Monday, the lockdown in France eased.
We were allowed to go out without an attestation, a paper that said where and why we were going somewhere. The reasons were limited -- fulfilling essential needs, like medical or grocery, exercising within 1 kilometer of our home, or helping others who couldn't go out.
We weren't even allowed to go to the grocery with other family members. Only one person per car.
As of Monday, we are allowed to travel, no papers required, within 100 kilometers of our home. That's quite a bit for us. It includes Carcassonne, Toulouse, the Mediterranean -- but the beaches are still closed.
Andorra and Spain are also in are 100 kilometer area, but the borders are still closed to both of those places.
We were so excited to venture out of our house and to take Grace and Jack to see some of the beautiful places near us.
Remember that they arrived on Friday before the lockdown happened on Tuesday. Since then, they've been sheltering in our house, taking occasional walks and stopping at the bakery sometimes.
We debated going to an old medieval town and showing them the market. It's about an hour away.
But the weather forecast had other plans.
The forecast has been rain for the entire week.
Monday afternoon, we went about 10 kilometers away to Rennes le Chateau. As you can see from the picture, the weather was ominous. 

On a sunny day, the view from here is beautiful.

Rennes le Chateau is one of those mysterious places that has to do with a priest and sudden influxes of money that allowed him to build this tower among other beautiful structures.
Our next day out was planned for Wednesday. Earl and I needed to pick up our visas. In France, they're called carte de  séjour or titre de  séjour. They give us permission to stay in the country for another year.
We had our appointment on February 25th and received a text that the cards were ready on the Friday before lockdown. Obviously, we hadn't been able to retrieve them.
Strategically planning when to arrive and how to avoid long lines, Earl and I drove to Carcassonne. Grace and Jack decided not to come along because rain was once again forecast for the entire day.
The map on our phones took us right through Carcassonne rather than around it because traffic was so light. We found a parking spot a block away from the prefecture. We waited maybe 5 minutes for the security guard to allow us in. Another 5 minutes and our cards were in our hands. By 8:59 a.m., we were back in the car.
But wait! I paid for parking until 10 a.m., I wanted to protest.
In years past, we would go with friends and celebrate our new visas with breakfast in an outdoor cafe. This year, no restaurants or bars are open.
Instead we visited a home improvement store for paint and a used furniture store where we found chairs for our kitchen table.

The living room in the background is in a state of flux because the drywall is going up this week. 

Throughout the quarantine, this is how our living room has looked. Metal supports on the ceiling and along the walls. 

In preparation for drywall

Our builder friend Kris put up the boards a week before quarantine ended. How did we convince him? We had a new kitten arriving and couldn't allow it to hide inside unfinished walls. 

Next came the mudding, or as the British call it, plastering, to cover the boards. 

Now the walls and ceilings are complete and we are waiting a week for them all to dry, because everything is humid as we apparently are going through a rainy season. Soon we'll be able to do a few mist coats and then to paint.

A week ago today, we picked up our new kitten, Louis Catorze -- that's a play on the name Louis Quatorze, the 14th. The Sun King.


Louis is an upstairs cat right now as we work on the downstairs, but he's mostly fine with that because the stairs are a challenge to him.
The rain is scheduled to dry up next week, so we're hoping for some adventures then.
Meanwhile, our market has still been happening every Wednesday and Saturday with fruits, vegetables, cheese, honey and plants, so we get to walk around and make eye contact over our masks. And I heard even the coffee truck has returned, so I'm super excited to see all the vendors that arrive Saturday morning.

France Quarantine Continues

In many ways, the rules have gotten stricter here in France. We're only allowed to leave the house once a day. We have to take a paper that says we are going to buy groceries or medicine or to help someone who can't go themselves. But the main reason I leave my house is to exercise each day, usually a run, but sometimes a walk.

We are supposed to stay within 1 kilometer of our homes. I roughly try to comply with that.

 I'm allowed to walk with people who live in my house, but no one else.

I try to take a picture on every walk or run to share with my running friends

It's been nearly a month since we raced over the border to Barcelona to pick up Grace and Jack. Even then we were social distancing and the next morning they closed all the bars and restaurants.
I've been to the bakery a few times 

I got breakfast and lunch at the bakery on one trip. 

and the grocery store twice.

The local grocery set up a series of barricades where people can wait until it is there turn to get in the store.

The stores limit the number of people who can go in, so sometimes the longest wait is outside before you can get in.

I've talked to friends from our balcony and over fences.

I'm not sure if Grace and Jack feel lucky to be stuck here, but I'm really glad they are. We have four hands for euchre. And just last week I received a mahjong set, so we can play three or four-handed mahjong.

I used to play mahjong with my homeschool mom friends so it brings back lots of good memories.
Earl apparently never played back in the day, but he is being a good sport and learning the game. 

What else are we doing to pass the time? Well, as soon as the quarantine started, I caved and we ordered a television.

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We rarely watch television in France so I had argued that we didn't need one; we could simply watch shows on the computer during cold winter nights that we weren't out with our friends drinking wine, dancing, telling stories.
But realizing that the four of us were going to be inside, except for an hour per day of exercise, I immediately went on Amazon and ordered this 43-inch television. It isn't a show stopper, but gives us something to do on nights when we aren't playing cards or mahjong.
Our dinners have drifted later, usually starting around 8 p.m., so there isn't a lot of time afterward to watch TV.

We have scavenged a few plants for our garden.
We should have enhanced the soil first with alpaca dung from our friend with alpacas

My life remains much the same. Working most days teaching English to Chinese kids. The hours are longer because they aren't in school so can take classes anytime of day. I'm scheduling two days off every week from teaching. I considered continuing to teach everyday since we're quarantined, but I realized that I need a few days where I can go for a leisurely walk and not rush to shower and get dressed, a day where I can linger at the breakfast table over coffee. So I'm allowing myself those days off.
 I'm also teaching an online university class and am lucky enough that another one starts in May. I take two days off from being online for my class, but unfortunately they aren't the same days that I don't teach the Chinese children. The only day that I don't work at all is today, Wednesday. And it feels like a bit of a vacation.
I know I'm fortunate to still be able to work, so I won't complain about it.
A few restaurants are open these days for take out, so that is a nice break from someone cooking for 21 days straight. We had galettes last Friday -- those are savory crepes, with a delicious bottle of hard cider.
Maybe we'll try the Vietnamese restaurant next or the pizzeria so Grace and Jack can experience some local eateries.

We have also committed to getting a kitten.

Nougaro, who we are currently planning to call Nougat, will be ready for adoption in mid-May. Grace has been having withdrawal since she can't have her cats brought over. We've always had cats so decided it might be a good time to get one. He comes from a local animal rescue organization.

That's our life in quarantine. We'll continue to take walks and look at beautiful scenery. Hope you're all being safe and stay healthy.

Mountains through an arch

Coming Out on the Other Side of Coronavirus

I was Facetiming with my niece recently, home on spring break with her two girls, and she asked whether the kids in China know what's going on. She meant what was going on in the States as people began to self-isolate.
They have lived what's going on, I told my niece. They aren't concerned about what is happening in the States or in France where I live because they have been quarantined for more than seven weeks.

And what happened during that isolation? More than 81,000 cases of coronavirus and only 3,255 deaths in China. Their quarantine made a huge different. Italy, slower to quarantine, has 47,000 cases of the virus and 4,032 deaths already. (Stats from Worldometers and unfortunately they will have gone up by the time you check it)
Slowly, through the eyes of its children, I see China emerging from the virus.
I teach English online to Chinese children, one on one.

 I start most classes with "What did you do today?" For months now, the answer has been: "I stayed home."
Recently though, Justin set a white transformer in front of the screen and said, "I played transformers in the park with my friend."
I was so happy for him.
A new student, Milo, dressed in a tan shirt and a red kerchief, the Chinese equivalent of boy scouts I suppose, joyously told me, "I picked strawberries today!"
My heart soared, imagining these children who have been isolated in their apartments for nearly two months going into the sunshine and pulling red berries from the vine, tasting the sunshine in each one. And I bet they are the sweetest berries since the skies are clear of pollution from the lack of factories running.
Henry told me that the weather is sunny and the skies are sooo blue!
One thing I noticed when the students were in lockdown was that parents had taken to cutting their children's hair. What's the first place many of the students go? To get a haircut.
William told me he went out for the first time, but the barber shop was closed so his hair is still a bit shaggy. Jacob wore closely cut hair, looking like himself again with his shy smile as he nodded that he had gone to get a haircut.
What does this mean for those of us who are seeing restaurants and bars close, stores shutting their doors and government orders to stay home?
It means that we can come through on the other side.
We can stay in our homes, only venturing out for groceries or medicine or solitary exercise if we don't live in big cities.
We can video chat and play card games and do puzzles and watch Netflix until our brains are numb. We can clean our homes and put up those shelves we always meant to get to.
We can write novels and compose music and draw pictures.
We can have conversations and make love.
The sun will be shining in mid-May when we slowly emerge from our homes again, hopefully with as good a result as the Chinese had.

Living in Quarantine

The events in France happened quickly, as I'm sure they have all over the world. Restaurants and bars were closed on Saturday night. Then word came that President Macron would make a speech Monday night.
I'm generally a Macron fan, but I think he botched things by announcing that he would make a speech and not giving people the details. That caused a panic on Monday that filled all the groceries and will probably cause a spike in coronavirus cases.
On Monday around noon as I was teaching, Earl came upstairs to say that the rumor was Macron was quarantining everyone starting at 8 p.m. and no one would be allowed out even to get food. We tried to logically think whether this could happen. It didn't seem right, but we didn't know. Would they deliver food to people in little boxes like when the train is delayed?
Grace, Jack and I had been planning to go to LeClerc, a Walmart-type store with groceries and many other goods, when I finished teaching because Jack needed some IT supplies and the only stores open were groceries. I didn't think it would be bad, because I hadn't seen widespread panic in France.
But the announcement of a coming announcement with no one knowing what would be said sent everything into overdrive.
The parking spots were few and the shopping carts were fewer.
We agreed to separate, I went to get some staples while Jack and Grace went to the tech section of the store. There was toilet paper. Noodles were completely gone, but I was able to find several boxes of soup -- they do boxes instead of cans here.
The only onions were red onions, which Grace is allergic to so I couldn't get onions. I found some chocolate bars (priorities) and headed back past long lines that stretched from the cashiers at the front to the middle of the store, line after line of people.
I had somehow missed the paper towels and I was retracing my steps. When I found them I started toward the front of the store knowing Grace and Jack had gotten in line and saved a place in the mass of people.
Perhaps because I was not near the grocery section, but down near the beauty products, I found a line with only two people in front of me and I stopped moving. Grace and Jack were in a longer line and came to join me.
The picture of the people in line doesn't begin to show the craziness,

I don't know why the lines were so much worse farther down the line of cashiers. 

but as we saw all the people clustered together waiting to pay, we predicted that many people were exposed to the virus that day, and that's where Macron went wrong. If he'd let us know we will be allowed to go out for food during the quarantine, people wouldn't have panicked.

We also noticed that there were people in line, at least two that we saw, buying trees.

People in line buying trees because "quarantine."

Who says, "well, it's going to be a quarantine so I better buy a tree?"
That night, Macron announced the quarantine. People had to stay home unless they were going to the grocery store, the doctor, the pharmacy, to take care of someone who cannot take care of themselves, or to exercise alone. And if they were out doing any of these things, they needed to carry a paper called an "attestation."
I made a joke about "papers, please" as in Nazi Germany. And the next morning as I headed out on a run, my French neighbor asked if I had heard the news?
I said I had and he went on a bit of a rant about "papers to run, papers to eat, papers to go to the grocery!" I could tell he was not happy about the situation.
I said perhaps it would make the situation better and he gave a French shrug.
Tuesday, our first day in quarantine, was kind of normal except the builders didn't come, leaving us with a ceiling that is boarded for drywall but not mudded yet, and walls with support beams and no boards. It may be weeks before they return so we have arranged things as well as we can.
I taught from 9:30 - 2 and then had to work on my online class for the university, so it was just another work day for me.
Earl went to the butcher and said that the small grocery store in town was only allowing in two people at a time. The post office wasn't taking any mail, so Earl wasn't able to mail his absentee ballot to vote in Florida's primary.
Our friend Derrick, a loquacious Irishman, wondered how he would stand being quarantined. I suggested that he text me when he heads to the market and we could stand in line together, but I guess that defeats the purpose.
Grace, Jack Earl and I had dinner together and played cards. Jack and I lost 10-9 so it was a close match with no one feeling they were slaughtered.
I went for a regular run this morning. These horses seemed to know about the quarantine as they both stared at me, wondering if I had my papers, no doubt.

Today we spent some time cleaning our small yard, pulling greenery that has decided to grow in what was once a concrete patio or in the cracks of our house.
As I was sweeping, I found two empty snail shells and a Bueno Kinder wrapper.

Sweeping up in the garden

Earl is busy tackling the "cozy room" which has become filled with construction debris as we continue to work on our house.
After a few loads of laundry, Grace and I settled on the veranda with some sweet drinks -- menthe a l'eau.

Mint syrup and water, plus Grace's knitting.

No one wants to be quarantined, but hopefully it slows down the virus, and we're lucky to be in a warm environ today where we can sit in the sun and sip green drinks the day after St. Patrick's Day.
How bout you? Has your life changed since the virus arrived?

Life Under Lockdown in China -- From a Child's Eyes

I teach English to Chinese kids on the computer. Each day, I get to peek into their homes and talk to the kids.

Me teaching at a friend's house at the end of January. 

Some of them have very limited English skills and others can elaborate on what is going on since they have been quarantined in their apartments at the end of January. Not just students in WuHan, the starting point of the Coronavirus, but people all over China have been hunkered down, required to shelter in place since their winter holidays, before Chinese New Year.
Think about that! Many of the children, who live in apartments, have not stepped outside for nearly six weeks.
As I waited for Sam, a regular student of mine, I saw a note that his 11th birthday was approaching.
"Sam, is it your birthday?" I asked when he appeared.
"Tomorrow," he said grinning.
I knew I had to tread carefully. I couldn't ask about a party because he was isolated from all his friends.
"Will you celebrate with your mom and dad?" I asked. "Will mom bake you a cake?"
He blinked a few times then said, looking down, "My mom is a doctor."
And I realized that Sam's mom would not be there for his birthday because she is out on the front lines, unable to return to her family and risk bringing the virus home to them.
About four weeks into the isolation period, I noticed a string of male students trying to hide hair cuts. Apparently four weeks is the amount of time that parents can stand to let their sons' hair grow before taking matters into their own hands.
Kevin tugged on bangs that rose high above his eyebrows. "My mom cut my hair," he whined.
"It's okay," I assured him.
"It's not."
At the time, he didn't know that it would have weeks to grow before anyone in China would see it.
Another regular student, Patrick, who had sported a bowl cut of thick black hair, arrived in class with his hands clasped in front of his face and forehead.
"Did your mom cut your hair?" I asked gently to the boy who was obviously upset.
He moved his hands and revealed a bald head.
"My dad shaved it," he said. Patrick is often an annoying student and I had determined to be firm with him about staying on track, but instead I tiptoed around him that day, feeling his wounds.
Some of the students are lucky.
Helen had traveled to the countryside to stay with her grandmother for the winter holidays when the travel ban went into effect. She explained that her grandmother lived on a farm, she had chickens and lots of vegetables canned and stored. Helen could go outside and play, alone, but outside, nevertheless. Until one day when it snowed and her Mom wouldn't let her go outside in the snow because there could be germs in the snow, Helen said.
Other students who traveled for the holidays were not so lucky.
Ethan, a loquacious 6-year-old, lives in Macau, a tropical area in southern China, kind of a Chinese Florida.
When I saw Ethan after the schools had been closed, I asked whether schools were closed in Macau.
"I'm not in Macau," Ethan said. "We came to Beijing for Chinese New Year."
Now he and his family are stuck in Beijing, unable to travel to their home in Macau.
I talked to Ethan earlier this week with more than six weeks isolated in Beijing. "When can you return to Macau?" I asked him.
"Maybe April," he said. "I think I should be able to go to Macau now!"
"I wish you could," I agreed with him.
"At least you're healthy," I said to Ethan, and I say that  to each child I teach when we talk about the quarantines that they are under.
I wonder how this quarantine will change their lives. Will the school systems change? Will the parents change what is expected of their children each day? They are all overachievers who rarely find time to play or watch TV, instead focusing on academic pursuits.
For six weeks, they've had abbreviated studies. They've drawn pictures and played games with their siblings or parents. They've watched some TV or played video games.
This virus may change their entire outlook.
Or, they might work harder than ever, cancelling summer vacation to catch up.