The Covid Spike Abroad

I know what you're thinking - long time no see, huh? Believe me, I know it's been a while. I pride myself on being dependable and a friend recently brought it to my attention that to those that may read The Student Visa I may as well have just disappeared off the face of the Earth rather abruptly. For that I am sorry, but sometimes life sweeps the rug out from under you.

Generally, I like change. No quite frankly I need consistent change in my life in order to stay present. Change is refreshing but sometimes it catches us off guard and we either adapt or freeze. A few months ago in mid-November, I got the rug pulled out from underneath me and I froze. I'm still frozen if I'm being honest. I'm struggling to adapt this semester. I've always believed if you think too much then you should write, and if you aren't thinking enough then you need to read. It's been a couple of months of mental radio silence. I've barely touched my journal so writing for The Student Visa was out of the question. I've focused more on reading, mainly mind-numbing books that wouldn't trigger an existential crisis - my brain wouldn't survive.

Some people have assumed I'm done writing for The Student Visa - given up essentially. Clearly, they don't know me. I'm stubborn, to say the least, so here I am picking up the pieces and resuming my role as writer of The Student Visa. I've got a lot to catch up on and most pieces will be written in retrospect seeing as I have now returned to the United States. But for starters and perspective, here's a little storytime of how my semester abroad was cut short.

Storytime: Covid Reality Check #2 (this time in Europe)

During fall break - while I was away in Greece - Covid cases spiked in Austria. Upon returning to Salzburg we had a house meeting. The program director decided we were going to change our community service, we would no longer be allowed to perform community service with the general public because ethically the school didn't feel comfortable having students work with the unvaccinated homeless population. One of our classes was built around the idea of questioning the moral authenticity and legitimacy of community service - essentially, why do we feel the need to act as white saviors? - so one class turned into an arbitrary discussion built off of past experiences.

Additionally, we were no longer allowed to wear just any type of mask within the house, instead, it had to be an FFP2 or KN95 because our chief and cleaner did not live in the house. The household functioned as a singular quarantine pod but the chief and cleaner coming and going possessed a threat to their and our safety. Austria implemented a lockdown for the vaccinated and police began patrolling, asking for proof of vaccination from people out and about. It wasn't scary just unsettling.

The next weekend a group of friends and I went to Amsterdam - I promise I'll write about it soon. I had heard Amsterdam was extremely relaxed when it came to mask mandates and checking proof of vaccinations. Well, evidently things changed. On our first day, we kept getting turned away at cafes because we didn't have the EU green card - they no longer accepted CDC white cards. We were told we could go to a vaccine clinic and ask for them to issue us green cards but it would've taken up our time and we were only there for the weekend. The next day a new curfew was issued and everything shut down abruptly at 6 pm, again nothing major but it was harder to find a place to eat for dinner. Understandably they just wanted to control nightlife. Luckily, we got back from Amsterdam without a hitch.

The next few days in the house in Salzburg I wasn't really fazed or paranoid about the situation. Overall my impression was Europe had control over the Covid situation and the general public respected and abided by their government's policies. Well, that Thursday as we left for our group excursion to the Balkans the Austrian government decided to meet to decide what the next step was since covid cases had continued to rise despite the current lockdown of those unvaccinated. Various news outlets were guessing a full-on lockdown for at least 2 weeks would go into effect soon enough. How that would affect us, I didn't know. Yes I was concerned but at that point, we were no longer in Austria, we were in Italy, and as far as I knew Italy was doing fine.

On day 1 of the excursion, we drove from Salzburg, Austria to Triste, Italy. Apart from basic gossip and uncertainty, Covid didn't really affect our day.

For day 2 of the excursion we went about our day. In the evening, two friends and I tried to visit Risiera di San Sabba - a concentration camp in the outskirts of Triste. At the entrance, we got turned away because our second dose of the vaccine was over 6 months old. At this point, I got paranoid. Now you have to understand my personal trauma from the initial Covid outbreak. It was one thing to be in California during the very first Covid outbreak when everyone was talking about closing the state borders, and a whole other thing to be in Italy with thousands of miles of ocean and borders separating you from what you consider your safe haven. Guidelines for entering countries - especially in Europe were always changing - so of course, my mind went to the worst-case scenario. The EU and the U.S.A. could decide any day that people need to get their booster within 6 months of their second dose, but what if they close borders again?

Now at the time, Italy hadn't changed its' government mandate so my Covid vaccine was still "good," but I became more worried about the general possibility of a shift. The experience was unsettling - being yelled at in Italian AND being turned away.

Later that evening our group met up for the Italian tradition of aperitivo. Essentially, snacking and drinking around 6 pm before eating a late dinner at another restaurant. Twenty-three of us sat at a table outside. As people showed up we'd add another table until we had one great long table stretching down the street. I drank a Hugo and nibbled on a barley tuna salad with potato chips. It was freezing but Europeans embrace the cold, opting to dress warmer and sit outside without space heaters.

At some point, the program director picked up her phone and walked away from the table. We knew, through various interrogations, she was anticipating a call from the university's main study away director, potentially giving another update on the situation. When the director returned she asked the waiter for the check and paid for the whole table's tab before standing up and telling us, "You've all have been wonderful this semester." I remember looking down the table at one of my friends. She didn't mouth any words or change her facial expression. I could just read it in her eyes. Something happened in that phone call and it wasn't necessarily good news for us.

The next day we took a day trip to a cave system in Slovenia. We toured the caves and ate lunch. Before returning to Triste, the program director pulled us aside. Those of us that were observant knew what was about to happen. The university had decided to cancel the group excursion after that day. Instead of going on to Ljubljana, Slovenia the next day we would return to Salzburg and quarantine under the new guidelines set by the Austrian government. Croatia and Hungary had just been placed on the red list of countries, deemed unsafe for us to travel to due to Covid spiking. It's retrospect it sounds rather simple but at the time I felt like the walls were caving in, overwhelming me with uncertainty just like the first covid outbreak.

Adele's new album 30 had just come out. I remember sitting on the bus back to Salzburg listening to it, staring out the window, and trying to find peace within my emotions. It's indescribably frustrating to have your college experience and thereby life in general so consistently influenced by Covid. Everything in my life right now is influenced by Covid. I'd be abroad right now if it weren't for Covid.

Upon returning to Salzburg we were given two days off from classes and then on Wednesday classes would resume online through Zoom. We also found out the school would let us return home starting on the 1st of December. When the initial covid outbreak occurred all students were recalled, we were only being given the option to leave not being forced to leave. It was somewhat of a loophole for the University to not have to pay for our flights back home. We could either book an earlier flight or wait until our original flight and date of departure, the 15th of December.

Now, I had planned to meet up with friends in Paris on the 15th and fly back home from Paris on the 23rd of December. So for me it wasn't just waiting around in the house until the 15th, it was waiting around and hoping France would still be safe with open borders in two weeks. Trends of covid across Europe didn't look promising and I didn't want to push my luck. In times of uncertainty, I think it's best to play it safe, thereby causing me to return to Colorado three weeks earlier than expected on the first flight out of Salzburg on December 1st. I wanted to go home because of the uncertainty but I was definitely second-guessing my decision, usually, I'm indecisive but I made this decision instinctually.

We wrapped up online classes in 3 days, switched course work to reflection papers essentially, and spend our last week and a half in the house quarantined. Per quarantine rules, we were only allowed to leave for essentials such as groceries and the recommended daily walk. I regret not taking more walks. It snowed for the first time during the last few days in Salzburg. It felt like the city was in mourning of our rushed departure. With the snow came the eery silence of a sleeping city.

In order to enter the United States, you must present a covid test taken within 72 hours of departure - now this was the rule on the day of my departure but two days later the U.S. switched protocol to 24 hours. Our program director graciously planned out covid testing for us. The day before my departure a group of 3 other students and I went on a little trip with our director. Apparently, our art history teacher - Austrian born and raised - is married to a doctor with his own private practice. We brought rapid antigen tests, the doctor administered the tests, and my professor typed out our testing paperwork on a typewriter after insisting on serving us some of her famous holiday punch - you know alcohol. Much to the chagrin of our director, my professor forgot to dilute the punch with tea and served us a cocktail of straight rum and wine. We arrived sober and left slightly tipsy. All for one flimsy sheet of paper stating I tested negative, signed by my professor's husband.

My trip home was rather uneventful aside from insomnia and claustrophobia. The chair in front of me on the ten-hour flight from Frankfurt to Denver was broken, so the seat was leaning back the whole time. I arrived in one piece and managed to sit through two movies, that's a win in my book.