The Covid Chronicles – Part 2 – The gala is on…

In Afrikaans we have a saying; “Die gala is aan.” It means the paw-paw has hit the fan. Or things are getting real…

36 hours in South Africa

“President Ramaphosa is addressing the nation tonight,” my dad informed me as he loaded my suitcase into the boot of his car at Cape Town International Airport. I just arrived from the UK. My mom was sitting in the front of the car and the atmosphere was tense – not what you’d expect when you reunite with your parents after being away for a while. We all knew that something was coming but no one knew exactly what to expect.

The virus was raging through the nations. In the weeks leading up to this point, The BBC reported every single new case – it became so overwhelming that I refused to watch the news. The world was in uproar, fear was running rampant, and in South Africa the government had a few extra things to worry about, like HIV and TB, which substantially compromise immunity.

We hoped for the best but expected the worst – we couldn’t fathom what “the worst” could be. I arrived at my parent’s house a few minutes before 20:00 that evening. The president was meant to have started his address by then but we waited. And waited. And waited. And then he came. And he spoke. And he locked down the country. And things happened really quickly after that.

I phoned Dan and informed him that South Africa’s borders were to be closed. My phone exploded with messages and emails from friends everywhere wanting to know what we were going to do. We had no choice but to send out an email to our wedding guests, “postponing” the wedding. We were distraught and unbelievably disappointed. I will never forget the look of utter defeat on Dan’s face when he realised he won’t be able to make it to South Africa, because up until that point we were full of faith and hope, and hope deferred…well…it makes the heart sick, doesn’t it? (If only we knew then how many times over the next two years we would beg God to restore hope in our hearts, which He did every single time!) Not really knowing anything, at least we knew we wanted to be together so I booked a flight back to the UK and I was to leave South Africa on one of the last flights out of the country, on the 17th of March 2020.

Two silver linings

When I look back on that time, two things make me smile. Firstly, I could ask for my parents’ blessing to get married without them being present if it ever came to that. “Elopement” (in its truest form) isn’t something I admire and definitely not something I would consider.

Secondly, I could bring back our wedding bands, which my dad lovingly locked away in his safe.

And so I boarded a flight, only 36 hours after arriving to South Africa, armed with two engraved wedding bands, encouraged by the prayers and blessing of my parents and overwhelmed by the reality that I was leaving my family and friends behind at the start of a world pandemic and I had no idea when I would see them again. It truly felt like a scene from a war movie. (I feel quite chuffed that I managed to hand in a request for a police clearance in those 36 hours, because I needed that for my UK DBS check. Admin goals…)

The worst journey

Like any other Emirates flight from Cape Town to Heathrow, there was a two hour lay-over in Dubai. This usually is just about enough time to disembark and get to the boarding gate for your connecting flight. I am a very tense traveller at the best of times – one of those who have their shoelaces (and hair) tied when the pilot announces “Cabin crew, 20 minutes to landing”. I admire people who only start putting on their shoes when the plane has already come to a standstill. They have obviously never been strip-searched at Heathrow (yes, I have been) or been held up in a teeny tiny room in Miami for five hours without food or water…(yes, I have been.) The fact that I cannot sleep on a plane, doesn’t help. So when we arrived at Dubai airport and were kept on the taxi for the entire two hours I was meant to find the boarding gate for my connecting flight, my nerves were shot…and I was sleep deprived. No one communicated with us what was going on and the closer we got to my flight’s departure time, the more anxious I became. In my head I was starting to make plans to contact my dad’s cousins’ wife’s daughter (or something like that) who I knew lived in Dubai. When I finally made it into the terminal, 10 minutes past departure time, there was someone stood at the door, shouting: “They are waiting for you!” (Who are “they?”) and for the first time in my life I had to run (fast!) in order to catch my plane. For a control freak that entire situation is just not normal. “Our” kind leave plenty of margin for error. We are always early. The main reason for this is because we hate rushing. We also hate running. We are more keen on sitting in a restaurant sipping a latte and reading a murder mystery while waiting for our flights. But there I was. Running. A sight for sore eyes, I can imagine.

When I finally sat down in my seat, I started crying. Well, first I coughed as if I was a chain-smoker who just ran a marathon, and then the tears came. It was probably because I was emotionally exhausted but also, I have to admit, I didn’t feel well. Four long-haul flights in three days during a world pandemic was probably a recipe for disaster. I was convinced I had caught the virus and running like lunatic in my unfit state, made me sound like I was in dire need of a ventilator so everyone around me (not very subtly) doubled up on masks while I was sobbing uncontrollably.

I have a friend who always says my life is just like a soap opera. In that moment I finally understood why.

Keep 2m apart

Back in the UK social distancing became all the rage. Dan and I continued to plan an intimate wedding, hoping to have his closest friends and family present at a ceremony in his home city, Belfast, on the date we were supposed to get married in South Africa – 10 April 2020. Good Friday. “Because,” we said “it’s going to be an extraordinary Friday….”

We were riddled with questions about whether we should do it. Was it wise? Would it offend people? Would people think we were selfish? Were we selfish? It was quite exhausting to try figure out whether it would even be possible and the uncertainty gnawed away at us. The anxiety intensified as the infection rates increased, our patience worn thin with the situation (and each other), and the day that was supposed to be fun and exciting became something we both dreaded and just wanted behind us.

In the end, we didn’t have a lot of time to plan this little “do,” because I was back in England for five days when UK Prime Minister, Boris Johnson, announced that he would be addressing the nation on the 23rd of March 2020.

And then, my friends, the gala was on….