Yesterday, I stepped into a trap I always intend to avoid: the news and the narrative of the global sickness.
In the first many months, I was glued to the latest news concerning the pandemic like many of us. But then, as I saw the health aspect fall behind the social implications, I began to take sides, and I always side with that opposed to authority.
When I finally emerged after 72 days of staying in my ideal home surrounded only by nature with woods on two sides, I went to the local market. But, instead, I was greeted by what looked like the security checkpoint at an airport with the rows alternating left and right, complete with footprints, and at every turning point, a sign telling me how I should be thinking of others.
As I stood there next in line to place my feet on a mat with some sanitizer in it and put my hands out to get sprayed, I saw the most significant shame message there is: “do it for Grandma” as if I did not care if the elderly died and needed to be reminded.
I went into the store and saw all the masked faces for the first time, the fear in the people’s eyes, and how quickly everyone was shopping. I turned and left. On my way out the door, the greeter said, “see you soon.”
“I will not be back until all this nonsense is gone,” I said and walked to my car.
I never went back into that store for the remaining months. Instead, I stayed in town before leaving the country and flying to Medellin to arrive on the first day that Colombia allowed international visitors.
That was October 2020. Then, like today, my girlfriend, whom I will get to in a second, and I wear our masks in public places where it is required, and, though we might not like it, you would never find us with the herd at some protest concerning such issues. We also do not complain about it; it simply is a requirement like passports.
Since that day, though I have been back to the town I last lived in in the U.S. three times but I stayed out of the markets save one: the “Mexican Store” as the local call it, and that was to get Arepas, Mango, and Papaya to introduce these to my kids that I was visiting.
While in Colombia those first few months, I did not follow the news despite the now infamous election that November. Even in those days, I did not feel that I would be moving back to the U.S. any time soon. So all the tidbits of news I managed to get were about division, polarization, and hate.
While living in Pereira, Colombia, in early January, while at an internet café and my girlfriend, we watched the events taking place at the capital with a combination of horror and humor. Later, a Colombian friend of mine who had returned home after living in the states and becoming a citizen said the following to me of the events of that day.
“I was sitting in Salt Lake City, and when the news came on, I cried. I said, ‘That kind of thing that happens in not my country, and I believed it could never happen here.”
Though he did return for a few months back to the states, he now is back in Colombia full time.
In the early spring, still in Pereira, we watched as the Colombian people staged massive protests against the federal government. I posted videos of the marches from my balcony. At one point, I had a root canal at a local office, while on the other side of the window, marchers ruled the streets in an uneasy standoff with the police.
While the protests were still ongoing, my girlfriend and I left Colombia to travel to Oaxaca, Mexico. We stayed about a week in Puerto Escondido at the Selina there, packed with digital nomads from around the world, before going on to Mazunte and finally 10 days in Zipolite.
Obviously, the politics back home in the U.S. were the furthest thing from my mind, and so was the Coronavirus that was the root cause that exposed a long-growing cavity.
Throughout this time, I never had an opportunity to get the vaccine. First, I was not from the country I was in. Secondly, it was not even available to many of the local population. Finally, even though I returned to the states briefly, the visits were all three short, the longest being about 10 days over Christmas. I did not have enough time for the necessary weeks between doses.
In May, we moved to the other side of Mexico to Playa Del Carmen on the Yucatan peninsula. Since Mexico was one of the few places in the world that did not require a Covid test to enter, the topic of the virus was barely on the radar. Masks were only necessary at some restaurants and stores, and, even then, most of that time, that requirement was only to get you through the door.
It was here that I experienced U.S. tourists for the first time in what at that point had been almost eight months in Latin America, and man did it show. Although, sure, I ran into Americans from time to time, nearly all of which oddly seemed to be from my hometown of Chicago. There were other travelers from around the world; they looked nothing like the guests I saw in Riveria Maya, the coastal region of Yucatan.
These people were obviously fresh of the airplane and likely staying at a hotel or resort. Sports and political messaging on their tee-shirts, baseball caps, fascinated by what they could buy at the many pharmacies that lined the famous tourist district of 5th Avenue, and loud, very loud. They were also noticeably larger, and I don’t mean taller, though that was also the case with many.
This was when the news re-entered my life as seemingly every one of them wanted to talk about Biden, or Trump, or their pet message from saving the planet to equal rights. Of course, to the locals, these conversations were hilarious. Looking back now, 14 months later and back in Colombia again, I do not believe I have ever seen a local wearing a tee-shirt espousing their political leanings, nor their religious views, and if it is a sports team, it is in almost every instance the national football or soccer as it is known in the U.S team. This goes for my time in the big cities such as Bogota, Medellin, Barranquilla, and Cali, to smaller cities like Cartagena and Playa Del Carmen, to the smallest of hamlets like Salento, Filandia, or Guatapé.
Back in the states, wearing your emotional attachments on your sleeve is the norm, thus ensuring a certain amount of divisiveness because there is always one of “them” for every one of “you”.
We returned to Colombia after almost six months in Mexico in early October 2021. We had planned to stay until Christmas when I would go to the states, and my girlfriend would remain with her family here. I am allowed just 180 per year in her country, and it is nearly a two-year wait for her to get a visa to get into mine—hence the need to travel regardless of whether we wanted to put down roots. That said, while we had intended to travel from the time before we met in person the day I arrived last year, we had hoped that the world would be opening more by now.
What didn’t happen during that time was for the two of us to get vaccinated due to the reason I pointed out before, and also because it really was not on our minds due to not watching the news and the relative openness of the two countries in which we have spent our time.
Still, mainly due to the heavy U.S. presence in Playa Del Carmen, the news was back on our mind, and we began talking about getting the vaccination. But, neither of us was from Mexico during that time and it never happened.
So we arrived back in Colombia for a relatively brief hiatus to visit family and friends and work on our two businesses without all the hustle and bustle of the tourism sector.
That all changed yesterday when the Colombian president abruptly announced that on the 16th of November, which is just two weeks from now, proof of vaccination would be required to enter most public spaces, including restaurants and churches.
Upon hearing that news, I got angry, something I rarely do. It is primarily due to something I have done via lack of proper planning or something similar. Life as a digital nomad is very stressful, particularly for the self-employed, but that is how we choose to live our lives, even if there are large swaths of the planet that we know we are forbidden to visit.
What was supposed to be a time to tighten our belts and regroup for wherever we choose to go in January suddenly turned into “Where are we going in two weeks?” On top of that, though I was already planning to return to the states just before Christmas, it also means another move.
But that was yesterday, and after speaking with local people about it, nobody here believes the mandate can be enforced. If it were tried, there would be significant backlash, potentially like what occurred in April, and deservingly so.
According to the latest numbers, Colombia has only received enough vaccines to protect 47% of its population. But, of course, that is only if you happen to be somewhere. They are available in this nation with three ranges of the Andes Mountains, coastal regions to the north, and the Amazon jungles in the South, good luck with that.
In an almost exclusively Catholic nation, half of each congregation will be allowed into mass three weeks from now. It also means that business can expect half their clientele in a nation that is considered a “poor” and “developing” country.
All of that rolled into one is what made me upset, not just because our travel plans are suddenly in question because I am merely a guest and grateful to be here, but how anyone can believe that a move like that will help the overall health of these beautiful people.
I love Colombia and hope to one-day hold dual-citizenship here. Still, it is no wonder that a government famous for its corruption can not manage to bring a nation with so much to offer to the front of the world’s stage where it belongs.
But all of those are my personal opinions, and I am an outsider looking in, and, as stated, I am grateful to be here in the first place. I have “been adopted” by my girlfriend’s family, and I have many friends here as well. So, I need to watch what I say because I am an outsider and Colombian politics is really none of my business.
Still, I have my opinion, and this does impact my life, but I must ask, what is really behind all of this?
“It’s a social control mechanism supported by science…” said the president before also continuing that it is suitable for public health.
Really, look at the numbers, Colombia is not even considered a hot spot, and nowhere near the level of Russia, the U.S., or Australia; all countries that have gone way overboard with their social control during this time.
None of this adds up, and I am not speaking from the position of conspiracy theory. On the contrary, I have been one of the biggest critics of what I considered to be nonsense that people were theorizing on social media this time a year ago, though not publically on social media as it is a personal opinion. Not only did I believe most of that, but I cared even less.
Now, I care, or at least I did yesterday, and I must somewhat, as you can see by this rant.
We are staying in Colombia as long as possible, hoping that none of this will actually happen. But, if it does, we will have to leave unless we can somehow procure the one-shot vaccination should we opt to go that route.
I was coming off of an eight-year sickness that featured liver cancer and transplant just when the pandemic hit, so I did not want to accept an experimental agent into my recovering system. However, I maintained at that time that if it ever interfered with my ability to move, which is what I had planned to do all those years I was sick, that I would get the vaccination.
Now, I am no longer recovering nor fragile. I do not approve or disapprove of the vaccine as it has not really been on my radar, having been lost in all the nonsensical banter that the news and public discourse have become. Still, it interferes with something I did not even know I would have when this all began.
And that is love.
Due to international laws, we need to be in a third country for at least half of every year. Luckily for us, we have had Mexico for that other half in our first year together. Now, unless we get the vaccine, Colombia is no longer an option. The United States has never been an option due to the lengthy process, nearly two years as stated, for Colombians to get a visa. She had one, and in fact went to graduate school and worked for a Fortune 500 company in the US, but it has expired and she will need to get a new one.
Perhaps one day we will get married. We have talked about it, but due to our mobility, that seems more a conversation for when we finally find somewhere we can call home. Indeed, there is scant chance that will be the U.S. as to toxic nature of the land looks to be staying around for quite some time. As a veteran, I really do not like saying it like that, and I love the U.S. and the people, but give it a rest, everyone.
Now, back to your regularly scheduled programming.
Wait, forget that. Turn off the news and go out to meet your neighbor. Get to know each other as people again.
I spoke about Covid as a Societal Sickness months ago in a YouTube video. Yes, there is a virus, and yes, we need to do what we can to help us all through this time. Still, the combination of financial interest shrouded in medic, governments who pander to their base, and a global media that maintains a single narrative despite their own pandering are doing much more harm than any biological agent regardless of its origin.
This is how the world now looks to those of us who have escaped the attachment to national identity that assures internal division. I know full well that most reading this will have plenty to criticize to the differentness in the way we live. We are global citizens, and see a sickness of the mind.
Now, getting out of the trap of paying attention to “the news”.