INDOOR ANTHROPOLOGY Quarantine Day 36: The End of War

“A war! Do you get it? There’s a war!!!” With these words, I dramatically began the last entry in my diary, which I finished writing on that day. It was Thursday, 27th June 1991. In the entry, I described how I woke up while there were jet fighters flying above our home. I added that it was “the first war of my life that I experienced directly.” In the diary, I have been recording impressions and memories on a daily basis since 23rd October 1987. Why I quit writing exactly on the day the war in former Yugoslavia started, I don’t remember anymore, but it seems like the “outdoor life” became so attractive, interesting and exciting at the time when the new country was being created that I simply ran out of time to keep writing on a daily basis.

Today, for a similar reason, I decided to quit writing these notes from the quarantine: the outside world is reopening, and the strangeness of self-isolation has faded. On the fifth day of the announcement of the measures, when I started writing these notes, I was still shocked when I saw people with masks walking around the store. Today, the situation is reversed. The masquerade is the new normality. “You know,” a friendly salesman at a nearby store told me three days ago, “two months ago, I would shit in my pants if someone came to the shop in a mask, and now I shit in pants if someone comes without it.” The habits we found extremely strange, have become normal to us and we even internalised many of them. What was unheard of five weeks ago suddenly seems urgent and inevitable – from greeting people from a distance to avoiding physical contact even with your own relatives and friends.

And what changes have I noticed during my quarantine? Let’s see!

First, the Crocs clogs are my only footwear. I even wear them barefoot, since I haven’t put on socks since March.

Second, my vision has restored, just like it happened to the soap opera’s Esmeralda. I haven’t put on my glasses for two or three weeks, because even without them I see well enough – or I have become used to the world being a bit hazy and the reality blurred.

Third, the miraculous recovery of vision is related to the fact that I have driven the car only five or six times during quarantine and have travelled less than 100 kilometres in total. I usually used eye-glasses on longer distances, but these are of course a relic of the past.

Fourth, I don't drive the car anymore, but I own it. After seven years, I paid off the lease and became the proud owner of the vehicle that stands still in front of the house not only 95 percent, but instead 99.9 percent of the time. The leasing company that ended up in liquidation sent me a special plaque today, on which it says in big golden letters (no joke!) that I have settled all my obligations.

Fifth, I go to the store no more than once a week. When we eat through literally everything in our fridge and pantry and leave only the bare plywood shelves because they are too dry to be consumed, I leave for the hero’s journey (see Quarantine Day 25). Before making a purchase, I almost automatically equip myself with a strategically designed shopping list, a home-made mask and rubber gloves.

Sixth, I have not shaken hands with anyone for over a month – with the exception of members of my own household. I still shake hands with the kids regularly when they do their homework and tidy up the room. My wife and I also do a “high five” here and there when we manage to tidy up the kitchen or stack freshly washed items on shelves.

Seventh, I have re-shaped the sofa – and I have been re-shaped by the sofa. I have become a kind of cyborg: part human, part sofa. I do not know yet if I change the name of my profession to "sofanthropologist."

Eighth, since my hair grew almost to my ears, I started combing it over the bald top of my head. (If you thought for a moment that this was true, then there is no help for you in the time of infodemia and fake news.)

Ninth, I got fed up with the post-apocalyptic novels. After all the blackness and horror, crime novels with romantic elements and philosophical discussions about the essence and meaning of life began to appeal to me much more.

Tenth, I still despise politics. Nothing new.

These are just some changes that I have noticed after the 36th day of quarantine. I can’t imagine what I will be like in a month or two when we see each other again. Will I have hair to my shoulders? Am I going to go straight to work in the Crocs clogs? Will I dare to hug or shake hands with my co-workers? Will I have to take the driving test again and get new eye-glasses?

I also wonder what the society that has started to be shaped behind the four walls will look like.

How much separation and family tragedies will there be? How many cardiovascular and liver diseases will result from eating and drinking in solitary confinement? What psychological consequences will loneliness leave on older women and men who have been used to being visited regularly by their children? What will be the health consequences of those who would rather wait at home during the crisis than go to the doctor?

***

In the 1991 journal entry, I wrote among other things that I was worried about Slovenian citizens and also about the soldiers “who don’t know what they are fighting for.” Today, I have a similar feeling, except that they try to convince us we are all soldiers. We are fighting against the invisible danger, but at the same time we know well that in this “war” some will be winners and the other losers, and ordinary people will anyway lose the most.

Instead of understanding this pandemic as a war and a crisis, I prefer to understand it as a normal phenomenon that has punctuated the provisional equilibrium in the world and society. And it is during these inevitable interruptions that the most interesting and important things can happen. These are the changes that are worth looking at and writing about.

THE END OF SEASON ONE.