Pressing the pause button

(Does anything actually have a pause button anymore?)

I took another walk today (Monday), about a week after the last one. I took care to really see the mountains, the churches, the colorful colonial buildings, the street art, the blue sky. I mentally toggled between taking it all in and berating myself for letting some tears make an appearance. Oh, pobrecita, gringa lawyer who has to take a break from her big adventure to go back to her privileged life in the U.S. until COVID-19 is done wreaking havoc on North America. Please.

Yes, I am heading back to the US, hitting the pause button on this adventure (but, alas, not on turning 50). Specifically, I’m going to Siesta Key to hang out with the padres (after a 14-day quarantine) and then to drive back to Wisconsin with them when the time comes. I have four 23-year-olds recently booted from Colombia and currently in quarantine at my house in Milwaukee and, as much as I love them, I’m not anxious to join them. I’m told there are a lot of extra things around. Too many.

Until two days ago, I had no intention of leaving Mexico. The virus has not really hit here and it seemed more perilous to travel to the US with all the opportunities to come into contact with the virus. And I’m not here as a tourist; I live here. I have an apartment. I bought a blender. I was settled in until September.

But the landscape of the virus and its impact on different countries changes every day.  And a few things happened that convinced me that all would be better off if I spent this time in the U.S. instead of Mexico:

  • AMLO has changed his tune about social distancing – he is now telling people to stay home – but it is going to be really hard to enforce in Mexico. For one thing, from what I have seen, being outside touching, hugging and just loving on friends and family seems to be like breathing for Mexicans. It’s one of the things that makes them so wonderful. Also, for many Mexicans, social isolation is literally life-threatening. Many extremely poor Mexicans are barely scraping by. The few pesos they earn per day, if they are lucky, are what keep them from starving. I read interviews with street vendors who said they fear starvation because of social distancing more than the virus. AMLO’s position on social distancing before now has been alarming and arguably irresponsible, but he is legitimately concerned about the fate of the poorest Mexicans and believes social distancing will imperil them. His heart isn’t in it and I imagine that mentality will have a significant effect on how any rules are enforced.
  • The Mexican health minister said in an interview that the federal government anticipates that the virus will peak here in August, right when I was planning to leave. I thought about waiting and trying to leave in June or July, but there is a good chance that there will be international travel moratoriums in Mexico and/or the U.S. until at least late summer. And I haven’t made arrangements for my life (and house and dog) in Milwaukee after August.
  • The Mexican government issued a plea for Americans to return to the U.S. because they anticipate having an overwhelmed health care system and do not want us here taking up precious space when we (in theory) have a more capable health care system we can return to. Totally reasonable request.
  • The U.S. ambassador to Mexico put out a video strongly advising U.S. citizens, even those resident here, to return to the U.S. I had heard the advice at least half a dozen times before, but it was the first time I had heard it extended to non-tourists.

So, I’m pressing the pause button. Over the last five years, I’ve learned how to sit with uncertainty and how to approach bumps in the road and plan derailments with some amount of equanimity. At the moment, I am in good company; we have all been forced into a place where we can only wait to see what is next because so much is out of our control.

But this isn’t over, Universe.