This article is from the source 'nytimes' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.
You can find the current article at its original source at https://www.nytimes.com/2020/04/16/parenting/spain-kids-lockdown-coronavirus.html
The article has changed 26 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.
| Version 18 | Version 19 |
|---|---|
| In Spain, Children Still Can’t Go Outside | In Spain, Children Still Can’t Go Outside |
| (8 days later) | |
| “Zizzer zay zay!” my toddler demands, running around the kitchen brandishing a wooden spoon. Since the lockdown, we’ve made lasagna twice. He became instantly addicted, except he can’t quite pronounce the word. “We’ll make more soon,” I promise. “Zizzer zay zaaaaaaay!” he shrieks, stomping with rage. If I remember one word from this pandemic, this will be the one. | “Zizzer zay zay!” my toddler demands, running around the kitchen brandishing a wooden spoon. Since the lockdown, we’ve made lasagna twice. He became instantly addicted, except he can’t quite pronounce the word. “We’ll make more soon,” I promise. “Zizzer zay zaaaaaaay!” he shrieks, stomping with rage. If I remember one word from this pandemic, this will be the one. |
| In mid-March, the prime minister of Spain issued a nationwide order for all residents to self-isolate. The country has been on lockdown since, with some of the toughest measures implemented by any government, specifically for kids. Restrictions are military-enforced. Outings for all nonessential workers are limited to buying food or medical supplies, or walking dogs, briefly. Exercise or excursions outside the home are strictly forbidden, and children have been locked up since the start. As of this week, Spain is beginning to loosen some restrictions for workers and business owners. But children remain unable to leave their homes. | In mid-March, the prime minister of Spain issued a nationwide order for all residents to self-isolate. The country has been on lockdown since, with some of the toughest measures implemented by any government, specifically for kids. Restrictions are military-enforced. Outings for all nonessential workers are limited to buying food or medical supplies, or walking dogs, briefly. Exercise or excursions outside the home are strictly forbidden, and children have been locked up since the start. As of this week, Spain is beginning to loosen some restrictions for workers and business owners. But children remain unable to leave their homes. |
| Two weeks in, our days already felt nothing but repetitive — a bad version of “Groundhog Day” set firmly inside a suburban home 20 miles outside the Mediterranean city of Valencia, starring one potty-training, tantrum-mastering toddler son, one sweet-and-sour tween daughter constantly craving sushi, and two working-from-home parents whose nearest friends and relatives are thousands of miles away. | Two weeks in, our days already felt nothing but repetitive — a bad version of “Groundhog Day” set firmly inside a suburban home 20 miles outside the Mediterranean city of Valencia, starring one potty-training, tantrum-mastering toddler son, one sweet-and-sour tween daughter constantly craving sushi, and two working-from-home parents whose nearest friends and relatives are thousands of miles away. |
| Soon after the initial lockdown, the government announced, in updated rules, that kids could accompany one parent to the supermarket, which we misunderstood. This leeway only applies to single parents. On my tween’s one traumatic food-shopping trip — a mistake — my husband, who was driving, was stopped leaving the store and interrogated by the police. We got lucky — residents have been fined up to 30,000 euros for breaking the rules. You’ll also be interrogated and fined for shopping too far from your home; you’re supposed to stick to your closest store options. If you need to travel farther because of food allergies or dietary restrictions, you’ll need a doctor’s diagnosis in hand. | Soon after the initial lockdown, the government announced, in updated rules, that kids could accompany one parent to the supermarket, which we misunderstood. This leeway only applies to single parents. On my tween’s one traumatic food-shopping trip — a mistake — my husband, who was driving, was stopped leaving the store and interrogated by the police. We got lucky — residents have been fined up to 30,000 euros for breaking the rules. You’ll also be interrogated and fined for shopping too far from your home; you’re supposed to stick to your closest store options. If you need to travel farther because of food allergies or dietary restrictions, you’ll need a doctor’s diagnosis in hand. |
| Without the freedom to walk down the block, bike or even joy ride past the crashing waves along the shore — to smell the salty air through open car windows — there’s an increasing sense of being jailed. But in my local online parenting group, no one complains. Fear is pervasive. | Without the freedom to walk down the block, bike or even joy ride past the crashing waves along the shore — to smell the salty air through open car windows — there’s an increasing sense of being jailed. But in my local online parenting group, no one complains. Fear is pervasive. |
| The coronavirus death rate in Spain is staggering and paralyzing. “Sacrifice” is a word I’ve heard thrown around, and I’m all for it. We all wish to contribute and to help stop this pandemic. And yet sitting still isn’t productive, and locking kids up hasn’t been deemed necessary in densely populated cities like Paris, Berlin or New York. | The coronavirus death rate in Spain is staggering and paralyzing. “Sacrifice” is a word I’ve heard thrown around, and I’m all for it. We all wish to contribute and to help stop this pandemic. And yet sitting still isn’t productive, and locking kids up hasn’t been deemed necessary in densely populated cities like Paris, Berlin or New York. |
| It’s just been announced that schools will remain closed for the rest of this academic year. And although there’s now a task force assigned to advise when and how kids may regain some freedom of movement, it has yet to offer anything concrete. | It’s just been announced that schools will remain closed for the rest of this academic year. And although there’s now a task force assigned to advise when and how kids may regain some freedom of movement, it has yet to offer anything concrete. |
| A petition circulating on Change.org, calling for empathy and respect of children in Spain during the pandemic, has generated more than 50,000 signatures. “Although they’re full-fledged citizens, our girls and boys are not only confined to their homes, but their needs and rights have disappeared from the public debate around this crisis. It’s as if they did not exist,” the petition states. It goes on to call for “the possibility of being outdoors, receiving the sunlight” and begs for a comparison with the ways other European Union governments have taken kids’ health and rights into account at this time, including Germany, France and the Netherlands. | A petition circulating on Change.org, calling for empathy and respect of children in Spain during the pandemic, has generated more than 50,000 signatures. “Although they’re full-fledged citizens, our girls and boys are not only confined to their homes, but their needs and rights have disappeared from the public debate around this crisis. It’s as if they did not exist,” the petition states. It goes on to call for “the possibility of being outdoors, receiving the sunlight” and begs for a comparison with the ways other European Union governments have taken kids’ health and rights into account at this time, including Germany, France and the Netherlands. |
| At stores selling food, any “nonessential” items, including baby clothes or kids’ shoes, are roped off. When our son needed underpants, I had to turn to Amazon and wait about 10 days to get them (which is a very long time for a child who is transitioning out of diapers). “I have balls,” the 2-year-old has been announcing, bottomless, to the embarrassment of any callers beaming into our home, and to our tween’s endless amusement. | At stores selling food, any “nonessential” items, including baby clothes or kids’ shoes, are roped off. When our son needed underpants, I had to turn to Amazon and wait about 10 days to get them (which is a very long time for a child who is transitioning out of diapers). “I have balls,” the 2-year-old has been announcing, bottomless, to the embarrassment of any callers beaming into our home, and to our tween’s endless amusement. |
| Before the lockdown, we were already isolated, having recently moved from Brooklyn to the foothills of the Sierra Calderona. Here, our neighbors are mostly stray cats, cactuses and citrus farmers who sell artichokes by the kilo on the side for a couple of bucks and orange wood for cooking paella the traditional way. At 8 each night, when the world bangs on pots in support of emergency workers, we remain silent — both because it’s the toddler’s bedtime and because hardly anyone would hear us. | Before the lockdown, we were already isolated, having recently moved from Brooklyn to the foothills of the Sierra Calderona. Here, our neighbors are mostly stray cats, cactuses and citrus farmers who sell artichokes by the kilo on the side for a couple of bucks and orange wood for cooking paella the traditional way. At 8 each night, when the world bangs on pots in support of emergency workers, we remain silent — both because it’s the toddler’s bedtime and because hardly anyone would hear us. |
| We’ve slowly overtaken our yard, hanging a rope between the twisted olive tree and weeping willow with a swing on it for the kids. We play countless games of Speedminton. We see our Russian neighbor through the fence walking with ski poles around and around his property, reminding me of my newly widowed mother, whose flight to come visit us was canceled when Spain shut its borders. | We’ve slowly overtaken our yard, hanging a rope between the twisted olive tree and weeping willow with a swing on it for the kids. We play countless games of Speedminton. We see our Russian neighbor through the fence walking with ski poles around and around his property, reminding me of my newly widowed mother, whose flight to come visit us was canceled when Spain shut its borders. |
| In our silence, we’re noticing the natural soundtrack of our surroundings: the loud hum of bees, an angry orchestra of miniature violinists hiding among the hedges. There’s a new smell here, too; the sweet honeysuckle scent of orange blossoms that infuses the breeze, replacing the wild rosemary of winter, and it’s delicious. Because this is not only our first pandemic, but also our first spring here in Spain, the home we’re locked in continues to surprise us, as if we were still traveling despite being stuck. | In our silence, we’re noticing the natural soundtrack of our surroundings: the loud hum of bees, an angry orchestra of miniature violinists hiding among the hedges. There’s a new smell here, too; the sweet honeysuckle scent of orange blossoms that infuses the breeze, replacing the wild rosemary of winter, and it’s delicious. Because this is not only our first pandemic, but also our first spring here in Spain, the home we’re locked in continues to surprise us, as if we were still traveling despite being stuck. |
| Updated August 12, 2020 | |
| I find myself gazing out at the distant city, or the birds soaring over the hillsides, letting my mind, at least, wander. I catch glimpses of my kids, slinking between tree trunks, yodeling from a low branch, munching on the mint we just planted together, or talking to themselves flat on their backs in the grass, looking at the empty sky. (No planes fly by anymore, though we’re minutes from the airport, to my son’s dismay.) I wonder how much noise, silence, solitude and chaos they’re each absorbing. How much are they suffering? How much are they enjoying? | I find myself gazing out at the distant city, or the birds soaring over the hillsides, letting my mind, at least, wander. I catch glimpses of my kids, slinking between tree trunks, yodeling from a low branch, munching on the mint we just planted together, or talking to themselves flat on their backs in the grass, looking at the empty sky. (No planes fly by anymore, though we’re minutes from the airport, to my son’s dismay.) I wonder how much noise, silence, solitude and chaos they’re each absorbing. How much are they suffering? How much are they enjoying? |
| My daughter finds me in my pitch-black office at 11 at night, slipping in like some forest creature, asking if it’s too late to take a “quick bubble bath.” I look up at her, her face glowing in the white light of my laptop, a small, new moon. Her hair is tangled with bits of twigs and leaves. “Too late?” I repeat, as if asking her. She looks like she’s just come back from camping. Time is off-track; it feels both pressing and irrelevant. I let her soak with a book in steaming hot water hours past her bedtime. | My daughter finds me in my pitch-black office at 11 at night, slipping in like some forest creature, asking if it’s too late to take a “quick bubble bath.” I look up at her, her face glowing in the white light of my laptop, a small, new moon. Her hair is tangled with bits of twigs and leaves. “Too late?” I repeat, as if asking her. She looks like she’s just come back from camping. Time is off-track; it feels both pressing and irrelevant. I let her soak with a book in steaming hot water hours past her bedtime. |
| As a child, I lived through political unrest, embargoes, invasions, dozens of moves. In Haiti, electricity, fresh apples and gasoline were scarce. We lacked running water. When I was a toddler, my family fled war-torn Cairo. At my daughter’s age, I spent my days wandering the dirt roads and cork forests of Morocco unsupervised, plotting to rescue donkeys. And though we led an almost luxurious lifestyle, thanks to my mother’s diplomatic job, I was surrounded by suffering, oppression and poverty. | As a child, I lived through political unrest, embargoes, invasions, dozens of moves. In Haiti, electricity, fresh apples and gasoline were scarce. We lacked running water. When I was a toddler, my family fled war-torn Cairo. At my daughter’s age, I spent my days wandering the dirt roads and cork forests of Morocco unsupervised, plotting to rescue donkeys. And though we led an almost luxurious lifestyle, thanks to my mother’s diplomatic job, I was surrounded by suffering, oppression and poverty. |
| I grew up with my German grandmother, too, and her stories of Hitler, the Russians, the rations and both world wars. She could make delicious dishes out of almost nothing but flour and potatoes. My American grandfather, orphaned from disease, erased each note he wrote to reuse the same pads of paper, decades after surviving the Great Depression. With all this embedded in me, as long as we are relatively healthy I can’t look around at our current situation and feel any true suffering or concern for our well-being. | I grew up with my German grandmother, too, and her stories of Hitler, the Russians, the rations and both world wars. She could make delicious dishes out of almost nothing but flour and potatoes. My American grandfather, orphaned from disease, erased each note he wrote to reuse the same pads of paper, decades after surviving the Great Depression. With all this embedded in me, as long as we are relatively healthy I can’t look around at our current situation and feel any true suffering or concern for our well-being. |
| Despite the trials of the last year — leaving behind family, friends, neighbors and our home of 20 years, losing my aunt, losing my father, saying goodbye to our beloved dog and now facing this pandemic — we’ve been centering on staying calm and hopeful and looking ahead. And following months of searching, we recently found a new puppy to welcome into our lives, so we’ve been focusing on his arrival and what to call him. After much deliberation, my daughter has finally settled on a name — a nod to this uncertain time in which he’ll be joining our family. She’s calling him Lucky. | Despite the trials of the last year — leaving behind family, friends, neighbors and our home of 20 years, losing my aunt, losing my father, saying goodbye to our beloved dog and now facing this pandemic — we’ve been centering on staying calm and hopeful and looking ahead. And following months of searching, we recently found a new puppy to welcome into our lives, so we’ve been focusing on his arrival and what to call him. After much deliberation, my daughter has finally settled on a name — a nod to this uncertain time in which he’ll be joining our family. She’s calling him Lucky. |