The day I left New York City for Managua, things were still going well. The subway is overcrowded, offices are full and bars and restaurants are cut and cut like they do in the city. Although there have been several cases of the new coronavirus, COVID-19, reported in the region, no one has been wearing a mask. Still.
I was in the Philippines as an independent exercise – traveling with the vicious cycle of explosives, taking some pictures, getting the story back, thinking about the best points of faith, etc. It was not a holiday weekend in my life. 9 to 5, I'm a "service journalist," meaning I write reviews of everything from kitchen knives to refrigerators, fishing sticks to furniture – but it's really a nice change to welcome. While I was going from there, I thought I would also tackle more balancing days and aim for quality waves. In the weeks to the trip, however, news about the epidemic had waned.
We all knew about that, of course, but it was on the other side of the world, and a little outside the newsroom seemed very suspicious. SARS, bird flu, H1N1, and other pandemics all came with their own pathways of disasters and disasters, but all ended without any problems in the Western Hemisphere; why would this be different? Well, as a tsunami warning and forecast the storm, do not really know until we are here.
A few days before my due date, New York began to see COVID-19 cases, and my flight and travel were canceled. On the one hand, I am concerned about the signals this sends to the seriousness of the situation. Meanwhile, I had already made it clear that I would be out of office for 2 weeks, and, well, there were many other flights to go to the rich waves that could be booked at the last minute at a discounted price.
I went online and searched to find a place with a warm beach, cheap local food and Sudanese, and even a cheap accommodation that I had settled in Nicaragua – a place I had on my top travel list. for many years. I booked a round-trip ticket to Managua and after hitting the far north coast, I got a $ 17-night beach with a pool on Airbnb. I convinced myself that none of this was particularly romantic or opportunistic: I am thousands of people, and even my doctor has proven that viruses like this are not good enough to hang in the joints. You may even travel to remote areas of Nicaragua even depending on the public service. Perhaps, once in my life, being recruited can serve a greater good.
A week before my departure, I was sitting at a table out of my very angry-but-guarded father, not on top of as much as anyone could cook for their older son.
"Are you worried about having trouble getting home?" he asked.
I was half-conscious of this, and then I interrupted and said the song, "It's better to be here than here."
My dad seemed confused, but he refused to partially agree because he could tell, probably better than anyone, that I needed to move and catch more waves. It helped that he had read in the summer at least some protection against viruses such as the current began to impact New York.
However, I didn't care less. I have already taken a decision & # 39; the decision to leave, to go to traffic, there will be no delays looga consider. Jobs were in place and the edges were spinning, and my & # 39; s better – or in fact – wouldn't last.
Now I am well, completely, and alone in my sleep. The water is dense and cares for me as I see my dad's fear of being stuck here, yet it feels good. Coastal storms are blowing, and may be flowing all day. The swelling is 3 to 6 feet for 13 seconds or more, and lasted for nine days. She was washing a winter shower that I had missed while I was at work. It is difficult to even take a picture mowjaddeyda mowjaddeedii last home of the New York – the idea of randomly about some unconsciousness, ear-high. In this happy time of summer, that seems like a life forever.
Things are calm in Nicaragua. On the other hand, there are very few people, let alone tourists. I woke up in the sun and climbed alone for at least an hour or two before wondering if, perhaps, another celestial object would emerge.
Aside from the daily scrutiny we do with editors, I am sorry for the result. My agenda, throughout the day, day after day, is a common occurrence for travel travelers: roofing, eating, retrospectives about abandoned magazines, going back again, arriving at cocktails, eating more, running bottles. local suds, bed at 10pm, and much earlier. It's a perfect day for & # 39; Groundhog Day & # 39 ;.
New York now lives in a very different kind of Groundhog Day. Shelter orders are in place, and only businesses that are deemed necessary – grocery stores, pharmacies, and a few others – are open. Offices, restaurants, bars, theaters and stadiums are all closed until further notice. There are about 20,000 confirmed cases in New York alone, and it is estimated that the number of deaths in the United States is hundreds and continues to increase every day – most of the injuries are in the elderly and in people with emergency situations. , but not always. We know that the virus spreads in close contact, and that the virus can survive and remain on the floor for a long time and that the vaccine is months ahead.
I had to fly home for a few days, but I'm starting to have second thoughts. If these things are really serious and die as they say, should I pass John F. Kennedy International Airport – one of the busiest airports in the country, at the national headquarters? What if I catch the virus while I'm on the way? What happens if I deliberately pass it on to my neighbors in my building, or to my elderly parents?
I'm going to lose the thrash as the Pacific cuts off another A-auction route. A little beyond the first place, we have imposed the second: Cover shampoo after the score, after two long, attractive shoulder.
A question pops into my head as I lean back: "What if I stay here? Pescado frito, langosta a la plancha and all these waves to myself? In fact, there are ways out of a very serious disaster looga world.
Can I feel guilty if I'm there? What if I get sick? Above all, I would be ashamed to stress that my only option is the local health care system. But is that where my fraud is? I am far from my family and friends, but given the directions of community diversion, what would be different if I was 2,000 miles 6 feet between 6 feet? And for my job, I am fortunate to be able to work remotely during my placement order, and if that means writing my condolences home in Brooklyn or on an empty beach in Nicaragua it doesn't matter. make a head.
I know we won't have even this internal debate if it is anything other than raising the weight of a single party. I have other times, castles, and tools to keep my mind occupied, but the vision seems to be the one I endure with worrying, uncertain times. Maybe it's about using it entirely. For me fish and fish, but these come with a clear purpose to put them on the table. I enjoy the boat, but that has point A pointing to side B. When you move on you will catch a wave, put your face back in the same position, and do it again. It has a transportation cost, no tangible gains in completing the cycle, the waves, the seating. You just feel good. Especially in times of high stress, such as, say, including a pandemic.
Back to dry land after my session, I learned that both Costa Rica in the south and El Salvador in the north had closed their borders. My father's words suddenly sounded like a sermon as they had weeks of retreat. The world, it seems, can make the decision to increase my travel journey with me. And I am quite comfortable with the idea. Time goes on as if in benzodiazepines and a steady stream of Toñas, the local barn, cannot destroy and not destroy the bank. A dinner consisting of fish caught that morning does not cost half a day's wages. Not to mention the lobster, which is in season. I don't even have to go it alone, as I've managed to convince my partner and roommate, Chloe, to board the flight at the last minute instead of meeting the unending expectations.
The math leaves: for both of us, $ 17 a night plus who cares — how many plates on the lebster and Longneck Toña looks like the sum we should be able to manage for a while. On the job, well, Chloe brought her computer. She doesn't want to share it with us, right? Yes, this plan can work. Things would be fine. Better, though.
However, these things did not normally return to the shelter even before the disaster. New York is an adult with almost every emotion, and they have been dressing me up these days. Like many Brooklyners, I have been brainwashed by the East River every day to work in Manhattan and to cherish my colorless existence in office life, only to have to pave the way for it to continue. had my existence in New York.
Why do I live in New York City, and all places? I left with a cheap, affordable lifeboat on a friend's boat in Fiji, where time was still intact and fresh coconut and picture waves could never be above hand or sunset. Where the water flows and the white sand is a very different travel definition.
I went to Fiji to give my friend his boat in New Zealand during storms. I gathered my life in Charleston, South Carolina, and sold my fishing yard to get there. Before we moved to New Zealand we spent many months fishing around Tavarua – Cloudbreak, Namotu, the Yasawa Island chain and other places we wouldn't call torture.
After arriving in New Zealand, the plan was to move back to Fiji at the end of the season so we could do it again. But even clean waterfalls and white-sand beaches are wasting their time. I have lived a dream that I have probably dreamed of since I first saw Peter Pan or read Robinson Crusoe, and I am forever grateful that I did. But I was coming into my 30s with no relationship, no real source of income, no wealth to talk about, and no real paths. An adult in the South Pacific, basically. Certainly, I beat the water – enrollment place and here, and will be living on someone else's boat ride was dirt cheap – but I found some, and it was time for a change. I felt confident.
A familiar, blurred image seen in bars around the world reads, "We're all here because it's not all over here." I needed to re-integrate and let the community – or maybe myself – know that I was lost on a remote island, telling a volleyball volleyball, even if it cost money to pay for belts. empty of the Technicolor refinery.
Well, what's the opposite of "here"? New York City, of course. At the heart of everything, I guessed it, as far as pay and sense of importance go. Now, it seemed, it was also at the heart of the queue.
This beach, on the other hand. The bar never left, and I got the option of the right rights and the boat with the wind with the beach in the past few days. The few tourists here are mostly gone, those were the sailors without a port call beyond the visible future of Nicaragua. They are no waves. The closest place they can tour is the beach, Koozie-clad in hand, which is perfect for me. I am happy to remember the days when we went back to the far coast.
Being here reminds me of that time in so many ways, and maybe that does something to do with my desire to extend our presence as a disaster. It is easy to keep track of the really bad things, no matter what the moment, the length of the arm when you are in the heat queue. I know because I saw the movie escape, I was in that movie. But the longer you stay, the harder it is to get out and move on with your life, which still seems important, even though the jury is still out.
The Nicaraguan government did not take our decision or take this decision, this time I need to make arguments outside my head. When we had dinner with Chloe, I caused the thought that we might skip our airport, but she would not share my enthusiasm for extending this special escape. Chloe, who is a French citizen but holder of the US Green Card, feels insecure about whether she can be accepted. The thought is shameful and shocking, though not enough to stop trying. I picked up several other packages: food, cost of living, home terroir. Not all of them help.
"We have life, home, she said," What if we get sick here? "
She is really right.
We then agreed to continue our flight. To take the precautions we can take and go back to New York. Back to the truth, whatever it looks like. At least for now.
This article originally appeared on Surfer.com and reprinted with permission.
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