csmonitor--2020-04-16--In Israeli war on coronavirus, Arab doctors rush to the front

Dr. Diab says Israelis have reached out to her on social media to thank her for her work .
“ People are looking at us differently , ” she says .
“ I hope this isn ’ t temporary .
I hope it ’ s the beginning and there will be equality between us.
” Noting that Israel ’ s fight to save lives would be “ fatally compromised ” without Arab professionals , a Tel Aviv University think tank ’ s policy brief urged “ an end to exclusionary and racist discourse and statements that call into question Arab @ @ @ @ @ @ @ between her home in an Arab village and long shifts on a coronavirus ward in Haifa , says she doesn ’ t regret taking on the risky job .
“ I believe this is a mission , ” she says .
“ We are on the front line of this war.
” That comes , ironically , at a fraught political moment .
Even as Arab Israelis have strengthened their parliamentary representation , they repeatedly have been the objects of hostile rhetoric from Israel ’ s right .
Over the past decade , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ more familiar presence at Israeli hospitals .
But the pandemic has shown them in a new light : as essential foot soldiers and field commanders in the country ’ s struggle against the coronavirus .
Yasmin Diab shuttles daily between self-quarantine at her home in the Arab village of Tamra and 24-hour shifts at Rambam Hospital in Haifa – the largest in northern Israel – where she was the first doctor on the coronavirus ward when it opened in March .
Because of her work with coronavirus patients , Dr. Diab can not @ @ @ @ @ @ @ her birthday recently came and went without a hug from her parents .
The stresses of work make it harder to sleep .
Still , the internal medicine resident doesn ’ t regret the decision to volunteer for a job that puts her and her family at risk .
“ I believe this is a mission , ” she says .
“ We are on the front line of this war.
” Editor ’ s note : As a public service , all our coronavirus coverage is free .
No paywall .
With @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Dr. Diab delivered a round of poised interviews to several Israeli news shows in the early weeks of the crisis .
But she is just one of the tens of thousands of Arab health care professionals putting themselves on the line in Israel ’ s battle against COVID-19 .
Though Arab doctors , nurses , and pharmacists have over the past decade become a more familiar presence at Israeli hospitals and state-supported HMO clinics , the pandemic has shown Arab Israeli citizens in a new light : as essential foot soldiers and field @ @ @ @ @ @ @ against the virus .
That elevated stature comes , ironically , at a particularly fraught moment in Arab-Jewish political relations .
Even as Arab Israelis , one-fifth of the population , have strengthened their parliamentary representation via a new alliance , the Joint List , they repeatedly have been the objects of hostile campaign rhetoric from Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu .
Leading up to the March 2 election , Mr. Netanyahu ’ s Likud party sponsored billboards that warned Israeli voters against an alternative government that would include or rely on the Joint @ @ @ @ @ @ @ his allies portrayed as “ terrorism supporters.
” In an effort to push back on that sentiment , a new television commercial sponsored by Arab health care workers features a montage of portraits of Arab doctors and nurses .
“ It ’ s about time to acknowledge : Arabs are also partners in the country .
Partners in destiny , partners in governance , ” the commercial concludes .
Jewish Israeli attitudes may be evolving .
Increasingly , there are calls in Israel to shift budgets from military interests to the public health @ @ @ @ @ @ @ recognize the Arab Israeli contribution .
“ This is the first time that Israel is conducting a war and [ that ] the Arab citizens have been recruited , ” says Eran Singer , Arab affairs reporter for Kan , Israel ’ s public broadcasting company , alluding to the fact that most Arab citizens aren ’ t obliged to serve in the army .
“ It ’ s quite amazing that it happened so soon after the elections.
” The prominence of Arabs in Israel ’ s health system reflects an effort @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , despite decades of discrimination and marginalization .
Over the past two decades , as rising numbers of Arab youth have pursued higher education and sought to integrate among Israel ’ s middle class , many have chosen to become health professionals .
According to official government data published in the daily Haaretz newspaper , Arabs now make up 17 % of the country ’ s doctors , 24 % of the nurses , and 48 % of the pharmacists .
“ The system would collapse without the decisive contribution of Arab medical @ @ @ @ @ @ @ deputy director of Sheba Medical Center , the country ’ s largest hospital , in an interview with Israel ’ s Channel 12 television news .
The pandemic has broadened recognition of the Arab Israeli health care contribution to national security experts .
Noting that the fight to save lives would be “ fatally compromised ” without Arab professionals , a recent policy brief by the Institute for National Security Studies ( INSS ) , a Tel Aviv University think tank led by former military top brass , urged the government to create @ @ @ @ @ @ @ full integration ” of Arabs in Israeli society and for “ an end to exclusionary and racist discourse and statements that call into question Arab loyalty.
” “ This is really an opportunity that ’ s not to be missed , ” says Meir Elran , an INSS fellow and former general who co-wrote the paper .
“ It ’ s very difficult to find a light in this tunnel .
But there ’ s more than a chance that this can make a difference.
” Still , for all the progress achieved @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s health services are harder to access for the Arab population .
Arab towns are located , on average , nearly twice as far from hospitals as Jewish towns , according to the Taub Center for Social Policy Studies .
Early on in the pandemic , it became apparent that fewer coronavirus tests were being administered among Arabs , and that informational material about COVID-19 wasn ’ t even available in Arabic .
As of April 16 , the Health Ministry reports that only about 459 of Israel ’ s some 12,591 COVID-19 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ from Arab towns .
The Palestinian Authority reports another 81 cases in East Jerusalem .
The underrepresentation stems from the initial emergence of the virus here among Jews who have limited interaction with Arabs , says Dr. Mohammed Khatib , databank director of the Galilee Society , a center focusing on health policy among Arabs .
Israeli coronavirus policy needs to be better fine-tuned to Arab communities and lacks input from Arab public health professionals , he says .
Dr. Diab , who dons bordeaux-colored scrubs worn by the staff on the Rambam @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of the doctors on the ward are Arab .
She says she considers the staff – whether Arab or Jew – like a second family .
Her parents , religious Muslims , worried about the risk of infection but ultimately supported her decision to volunteer .
“ They believe that God will do what is necessary , ” she says .
“ In the end , they trust me.
” As for her Jewish patients , “ I always get smiles from them .
They aren ’ t insulted or surprised to have @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ve never felt anyone treat me differently because I ’ m an Arab.
” While not unheard of , she says , that ’ s a rare phenomenon at the hospital .
Dr. Diab says she has kept in touch with Ariel Grabois , a ballroom dance instructor , who was one of the first patients on the ward .
Released after recovering from the virus , Mr. Grabois describes the medical staff on the ward as “ dedicated ” and “ top notch , ” and says he hopes the pandemic prompts @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ You have to put those things aside , ” he says .
“ The virus doesn ’ t distinguish between Arab and Jew .
I hope this will make people look at things differently – less in terms of [ demographic ] sectors.
” “ We ’ re all in the same boat ” Indeed , inside Rambam Hospital , the collegiality and collaboration among the Arab and Jewish staff is a marked contrast to the public atmosphere elsewhere in Israel , says Mogher Khamaisi , the hospital ’ s Arab Israeli @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a ward of patients with COVID-19 symptoms .
Arabs , who make up much of the senior staff , volunteered for the coronavirus work out of a sense of professional duty .
“ They want to take an active role in the effort , ” says Dr. Khamaisi .
“ It ’ s true that [ Israeli politicians ] ignore us ... and the prime minister speaks against us .
On the other hand , the doctors here do our work regardless , without expecting any favors .
People should see that we @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and that our contribution is critical , ” he says .
“ But I fear that in another half year , everyone will forget , and we will return to being second- and third-class citizens.
” Dr. Diab sounds a more hopeful note .
Lately , more individual Israelis have reached out to her on social media to thank her for her work .
“ They think that what I ’ m doing shouldn ’ t be taken for granted.
” She says she ’ s always tried to rise above the national @ @ @ @ @ @ @ individuals as humans instead of Arab or Jew .
And while she says she isn ’ t particularly interested in politics , it bothers her when she hears some insist that Israel is only a Jewish state .
Maybe dealing with the coronavirus will change that .
“ Ultimately we live in the same country , and we all need to be equal , ” she says .
“ The fact is that we are now more equal , because we are on the front lines of the corona battle , and people @ @ @ @ @ @ @ hope this isn ’ t temporary .
I hope it ’ s the beginning and there will be equality between us.
” Editor ’ s note : As a public service , all our coronavirus coverage is free .
No paywall .

Dr. Diab says Israelis have reached out to her on social media to thank her for her work. “People are looking at us differently,” she says. “I hope this isn’t temporary. I hope it’s the beginning and there will be equality between us.”
Noting that Israel’s fight to save lives would be “fatally compromised” without Arab professionals, a Tel Aviv University think tank’s policy brief urged “an end to exclusionary and racist discourse and statements that call into question Arab loyalty.”
Yasmin Diab, who shuttles between her home in an Arab village and long shifts on a coronavirus ward in Haifa, says she doesn’t regret taking on the risky job. “I believe this is a mission,” she says. “We are on the front line of this war.”
As societies confront a coronavirus enemy that doesn’t discriminate, there is growing appreciation for leadership and sacrifice. In Israel, the prominent role of Arab health care professionals is gaining attention, and praise.
That comes, ironically, at a fraught political moment. Even as Arab Israelis have strengthened their parliamentary representation, they repeatedly have been the objects of hostile rhetoric from Israel’s right.
Over the past decade, Arab doctors and nurses have become a more familiar presence at Israeli hospitals. But the pandemic has shown them in a new light: as essential foot soldiers and field commanders in the country’s struggle against the coronavirus.
Yasmin Diab shuttles daily between self-quarantine at her home in the Arab village of Tamra and 24-hour shifts at Rambam Hospital in Haifa – the largest in northern Israel – where she was the first doctor on the coronavirus ward when it opened in March.
Because of her work with coronavirus patients, Dr. Diab cannot have physical contact with her family – her birthday recently came and went without a hug from her parents. The stresses of work make it harder to sleep.
Still, the internal medicine resident doesn’t regret the decision to volunteer for a job that puts her and her family at risk. “I believe this is a mission,” she says. “We are on the front line of this war.”
Why We Wrote This As societies confront a coronavirus enemy that doesn’t discriminate, there is growing appreciation for leadership and sacrifice. In Israel, the prominent role of Arab health care professionals is gaining attention, and praise.
Editor’s note: As a public service, all our coronavirus coverage is free. No paywall.
With a stethoscope draped around her neck, Dr. Diab delivered a round of poised interviews to several Israeli news shows in the early weeks of the crisis. But she is just one of the tens of thousands of Arab health care professionals putting themselves on the line in Israel’s battle against COVID-19.
Though Arab doctors, nurses, and pharmacists have over the past decade become a more familiar presence at Israeli hospitals and state-supported HMO clinics, the pandemic has shown Arab Israeli citizens in a new light: as essential foot soldiers and field commanders in the country’s struggle against the virus.
That elevated stature comes, ironically, at a particularly fraught moment in Arab-Jewish political relations.
Even as Arab Israelis, one-fifth of the population, have strengthened their parliamentary representation via a new alliance, the Joint List, they repeatedly have been the objects of hostile campaign rhetoric from Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. Leading up to the March 2 election, Mr. Netanyahu’s Likud party sponsored billboards that warned Israeli voters against an alternative government that would include or rely on the Joint List, which the prime minister and his allies portrayed as “terrorism supporters.”
In an effort to push back on that sentiment, a new television commercial sponsored by Arab health care workers features a montage of portraits of Arab doctors and nurses. “It’s about time to acknowledge: Arabs are also partners in the country. Partners in destiny, partners in governance,” the commercial concludes.
Jewish Israeli attitudes may be evolving. Increasingly, there are calls in Israel to shift budgets from military interests to the public health battle. And there are calls to recognize the Arab Israeli contribution.
“This is the first time that Israel is conducting a war and [that] the Arab citizens have been recruited,” says Eran Singer, Arab affairs reporter for Kan, Israel’s public broadcasting company, alluding to the fact that most Arab citizens aren’t obliged to serve in the army. “It’s quite amazing that it happened so soon after the elections.”
The prominence of Arabs in Israel’s health system reflects an effort by many to move into the mainstream, despite decades of discrimination and marginalization. Over the past two decades, as rising numbers of Arab youth have pursued higher education and sought to integrate among Israel’s middle class, many have chosen to become health professionals.
According to official government data published in the daily Haaretz newspaper, Arabs now make up 17% of the country’s doctors, 24% of the nurses, and 48% of the pharmacists.
“The system would collapse without the decisive contribution of Arab medical staff,” said Raphael Walden, deputy director of Sheba Medical Center, the country’s largest hospital, in an interview with Israel’s Channel 12 television news.
Opportunity “not to be missed”
The pandemic has broadened recognition of the Arab Israeli health care contribution to national security experts.
Noting that the fight to save lives would be “fatally compromised” without Arab professionals, a recent policy brief by the Institute for National Security Studies (INSS), a Tel Aviv University think tank led by former military top brass, urged the government to create a “positive basis” for “full integration” of Arabs in Israeli society and for “an end to exclusionary and racist discourse and statements that call into question Arab loyalty.”
“This is really an opportunity that’s not to be missed,” says Meir Elran, an INSS fellow and former general who co-wrote the paper. “It’s very difficult to find a light in this tunnel. But there’s more than a chance that this can make a difference.”
Still, for all the progress achieved by Arab medical professionals, Israel’s health services are harder to access for the Arab population. Arab towns are located, on average, nearly twice as far from hospitals as Jewish towns, according to the Taub Center for Social Policy Studies.
Early on in the pandemic, it became apparent that fewer coronavirus tests were being administered among Arabs, and that informational material about COVID-19 wasn’t even available in Arabic. As of April 16, the Health Ministry reports that only about 459 of Israel’s some 12,591 COVID-19 cases, or 3.6%, come from Arab towns. The Palestinian Authority reports another 81 cases in East Jerusalem.
The underrepresentation stems from the initial emergence of the virus here among Jews who have limited interaction with Arabs, says Dr. Mohammed Khatib, databank director of the Galilee Society, a center focusing on health policy among Arabs. Israeli coronavirus policy needs to be better fine-tuned to Arab communities and lacks input from Arab public health professionals, he says.
Dr. Diab, who dons bordeaux-colored scrubs worn by the staff on the Rambam coronavirus ward, estimates that about two-thirds of the doctors on the ward are Arab. She says she considers the staff – whether Arab or Jew – like a second family. Her parents, religious Muslims, worried about the risk of infection but ultimately supported her decision to volunteer.
“They believe that God will do what is necessary,” she says. “In the end, they trust me.”
As for her Jewish patients, “I always get smiles from them. They aren’t insulted or surprised to have an Arab opposite them. I’ve never felt anyone treat me differently because I’m an Arab.” While not unheard of, she says, that’s a rare phenomenon at the hospital.
Dr. Diab says she has kept in touch with Ariel Grabois, a ballroom dance instructor, who was one of the first patients on the ward. Released after recovering from the virus, Mr. Grabois describes the medical staff on the ward as “dedicated” and “top notch,” and says he hopes the pandemic prompts Israelis to look beyond identity politics.
“You have to put those things aside,” he says. “The virus doesn’t distinguish between Arab and Jew. I hope this will make people look at things differently – less in terms of [demographic] sectors.”
“We’re all in the same boat”
Indeed, inside Rambam Hospital, the collegiality and collaboration among the Arab and Jewish staff is a marked contrast to the public atmosphere elsewhere in Israel, says Mogher Khamaisi, the hospital’s Arab Israeli director of internal medicine, who oversees a ward of patients with COVID-19 symptoms.
Arabs, who make up much of the senior staff, volunteered for the coronavirus work out of a sense of professional duty. “They want to take an active role in the effort,” says Dr. Khamaisi.
“It’s true that [Israeli politicians] ignore us ... and the prime minister speaks against us. On the other hand, the doctors here do our work regardless, without expecting any favors. People should see that we’re all in the same boat and that our contribution is critical,” he says. “But I fear that in another half year, everyone will forget, and we will return to being second- and third-class citizens.”
Dr. Diab sounds a more hopeful note. Lately, more individual Israelis have reached out to her on social media to thank her for her work. “They think that what I’m doing shouldn’t be taken for granted.”
She says she’s always tried to rise above the national differences in Israel, and focus on individuals as humans instead of Arab or Jew. And while she says she isn’t particularly interested in politics, it bothers her when she hears some insist that Israel is only a Jewish state. Maybe dealing with the coronavirus will change that.
Get stories that
empower and uplift daily. By signing up, you agree to our Privacy Policy Already a subscriber? Log in to hide ads.
“Ultimately we live in the same country, and we all need to be equal,” she says. “The fact is that we are now more equal, because we are on the front lines of the corona battle, and people are looking at us differently. I hope this isn’t temporary. I hope it’s the beginning and there will be equality between us.”
Editor’s note: As a public service, all our coronavirus coverage is free. No paywall.


csmonitor--2020-05-05--Arab world binges on religious harmony

Arab world binges on religious harmony

The people of the Middle East are quite used to the many attempts over decades to reconcile Jews and Arabs .
Yet nothing has been tried on such a mass scale as a drama series being shown on one of the Arab world ’ s most popular TV channels during this year ’ s month of Ramadan .
Since the series began to air in April over the Saudi-backed MBC station , it has dominated viewership ratings at a time when Arab families gather around a television in the evening .
The drama “ Um Haroun , ” or “ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a Jewish nurse living in an Arabian Gulf country in the 1940s .
She and other Jews live peacefully in a village with Muslims and Christians as she lovingly brings health care to all .
While the show has plenty of village intrigue , it depicts interreligious harmony before the 1948 creation of modern Israel and the later rise of intolerant Islamic groups such as Al Qaeda .
While the drama was filmed before the COVID-19 outbreak , its producers note its timely message : “ Today , the world ’ s sentiment @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , ’ but more ‘ we are all in this together.
’ ” Its popularity among Arab viewers coincides with current trends in the region that signal a desire to overcome the sectarian divides that have driven wars , corruption , and poverty .
Last year ’ s youthful protests in Iraq and Lebanon , for example , were driven by calls to end government systems in which power is divvied up by religious groups .
A survey of opinion in both countries revealed nearly three-quarters of people resent the use of religion @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Israel ’ s prime minister visited the Arab nation of Oman , while several Gulf nations have quietly warmed up ties with Israel , partly as an informal alliance against Iran .
In 2019 , the United Arab Emirates declared the “ Year of Tolerance.
” In February this year , the head of the Muslim World League visited the Nazi Auschwitz-Birkenau death camp .
And during the coronavirus lockdown , the region ’ s leading Shiite cleric , Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani , called for assistance to people of all faiths .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ or in imaginary TV shows , are wearing down animosities between faiths .
Official ties between countries in the Middle East may still be strained .
Violent conflicts in Syria , Yemen , and Libya seem to drag on .
Yet the recognition of a shared humanity is emerging .
The hunger for it is clear as millions of Arabs are tuning into a fictional TV show about people of the three Abrahamic faiths living together .

The people of the Middle East are quite used to the many attempts over decades to reconcile Jews and Arabs. Yet nothing has been tried on such a mass scale as a drama series being shown on one of the Arab world’s most popular TV channels during this year’s month of Ramadan. Since the series began to air in April over the Saudi-backed MBC station, it has dominated viewership ratings at a time when Arab families gather around a television in the evening.
The drama “Um Haroun,” or “Mother of Aaron,” centers on a Jewish nurse living in an Arabian Gulf country in the 1940s. She and other Jews live peacefully in a village with Muslims and Christians as she lovingly brings health care to all. While the show has plenty of village intrigue, it depicts interreligious harmony before the 1948 creation of modern Israel and the later rise of intolerant Islamic groups such as Al Qaeda.
While the drama was filmed before the COVID-19 outbreak, its producers note its timely message: “Today, the world’s sentiment is no longer ‘us vs. them,’ but more ‘we are all in this together.’”
Its popularity among Arab viewers coincides with current trends in the region that signal a desire to overcome the sectarian divides that have driven wars, corruption, and poverty.
Last year’s youthful protests in Iraq and Lebanon, for example, were driven by calls to end government systems in which power is divvied up by religious groups. A survey of opinion in both countries revealed nearly three-quarters of people resent the use of religion for political advantage.
Get stories that
empower and uplift daily. By signing up, you agree to our Privacy Policy Already a subscriber? Log in to hide ads.
In 2018, Israel’s prime minister visited the Arab nation of Oman, while several Gulf nations have quietly warmed up ties with Israel, partly as an informal alliance against Iran. In 2019, the United Arab Emirates declared the “Year of Tolerance.” In February this year, the head of the Muslim World League visited the Nazi Auschwitz-Birkenau death camp. And during the coronavirus lockdown, the region’s leading Shiite cleric, Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani, called for assistance to people of all faiths.
These examples of coexistence, whether real or in imaginary TV shows, are wearing down animosities between faiths. Official ties between countries in the Middle East may still be strained. Violent conflicts in Syria, Yemen, and Libya seem to drag on. Yet the recognition of a shared humanity is emerging. The hunger for it is clear as millions of Arabs are tuning into a fictional TV show about people of the three Abrahamic faiths living together.


csmonitor--2020-05-04--Livestreamed safaris, coming to a laptop near you

WildEarth has been livestreaming safaris all along .
But during the lockdown , more viewers than ever are South Africans – hungry for a glimpse of a world that while still close by , now feels very far away .
“ Since this outbreak started , human beings have lost two very crucial things – one is a connection to each other , and the other is a connection to nature , ” says Graham Wallington , who founded this company , WildEarth , with his wife Emily in 2006 .
“ This is one nonconfrontational way of satisfying both.
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ have been closed for more than a month , amid a lockdown against the spread of COVID-19 .
But as cooped-up people look for an escape , interest has soared in this reserve ’ s livestreamed game drives , with rangers fielding questions as they jostle along the dirt tracks .
And meanwhile , thousands of people watched – from the safety of their homes around the world .
On a recent afternoon , guides at a South African nature reserve idled their truck alongside a pack of sleeping wild dogs .
Rangers @ @ @ @ @ @ @ watched a leopard named Tingana sitting sphinx-like in the tall grass .
It ’ s 4 p.m. on a Wednesday , and in a game reserve in northern South Africa , a baby elephant lumbers across a dirt road , ears flapping .
Nearby , her mother hungrily scoops trunkfuls of grass into her mouth , chomping loudly as she goes .
No one should be here to see this .
After all , South Africa ’ s national parks have been closed for more than a month , since a nationwide coronavirus @ @ @ @ @ @ @ as the elephant pair continues their meander , they have an audience of 11,322 people – all of them tuned into the livestream of a game drive through a private reserve near the country ’ s Kruger National Park .
And they ’ ve got questions for the ranger .
“ Do elephants have feelings ?
” an 8-year-old in Singapore wants to know .
“ Do they sleep standing up or sitting down ?
” asks a 6-year-old in India .
How big is an elephant ’ s foot ?
How close @ @ @ @ @ @ @ get scared ?
Do elephants eat different things in the winter than in the summer ?
Editor ’ s note : As a public service , all our coronavirus coverage is free .
No paywall .
As the queries pour in , ranger James Hendry jostles along one of the park ’ s dirt tracks , simultaneously fielding questions ( yes , they have feelings , and they typically sleep standing up , though babies in particular sometimes lie down ) and navigating his truck toward the next watering hole .
For a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ called WildEarth has been livestreaming game drives in South Africa and Kenya , and selling the footage to National Geographic and other broadcasters .
They have long had a loyal following of viewers , most of them American , who tuned in each morning and evening .
But over the last month , as countries around the world have issued stay-at-home orders to stop the spread of COVID-19 , their popularity has ballooned .
Between three and five times as many people are now tuning into the game drives as before the start @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , who founded WildEarth with his wife Emily in 2006 .
And more of them than ever are South Africans – hungry for a glimpse of a world that while still close by , now feels very far away .
“ Since this outbreak started , human beings have lost two very crucial things – one is a connection to each other , and the other is a connection to nature , ” he says .
“ This is one nonconfrontational way of satisfying both.
” Since the coronavirus outbreak began , outdoor @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ virtual ” alternatives to their normal programming , from 360-degree photos of American national parks to a video tour of the Grand Canyon led by Elmo .
But arguably few at-home journeys are as visceral as watching a mother hyena cuddle her hours-old babies or a hippo snap his enormous jaw to warn off would-be predators .
“ It ’ s a way for people to feel a sense of escape at a moment when they can ’ t really escape , ” Mr. Wallington says .
And because it ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ script or a highlight reel , there ’ s a reason for viewers to keep tuning in each day .
That ’ s been especially important , WildEarth ’ s organizers say , for kids , millions of whom are now stuck at home without a lot to keep them busy .
The first 45 minutes of each three-hour WildEarth safari drive are dedicated to questions only from kids , which are vetted and answered by rangers from their safari vehicles as they roam the reserves .
The set-up for the tours is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of safari vehicles give viewers a perspective on the park that mimics what they ’ d see if they were really on a South African game drive .
On a recent afternoon , guides idled alongside a pack of sleeping wild dogs , pointed out a nursing hyena , and watched a leopard named Tingana sitting sphinx-like in the tall grass .
For viewers , no matter how far away , the experience can be surprisingly intimate .
“ When I first heard about it , the idea of watching a game drive @ @ @ @ @ @ @ appealing to me , ” says Heather Mason , an American travel blogger in Johannesburg who writes frequently about South African nature reserves .
Wouldn ’ t a streaming safari be a shadow of the real thing , she wondered ?
“ But it ’ s actually amazing .
It feels like you ’ re really on a game drive , and that ’ s very relaxing.
” Editor ’ s note : As a public service , all our coronavirus coverage is free .
No paywall .

WildEarth has been livestreaming safaris all along. But during the lockdown, more viewers than ever are South Africans – hungry for a glimpse of a world that while still close by, now feels very far away.
“Since this outbreak started, human beings have lost two very crucial things – one is a connection to each other, and the other is a connection to nature,” says Graham Wallington, who founded this company, WildEarth, with his wife Emily in 2006. “This is one nonconfrontational way of satisfying both.”
The country’s national parks have been closed for more than a month, amid a lockdown against the spread of COVID-19. But as cooped-up people look for an escape, interest has soared in this reserve’s livestreamed game drives, with rangers fielding questions as they jostle along the dirt tracks.
And meanwhile, thousands of people watched – from the safety of their homes around the world.
Elephants and adventure: two things that probably seem hard to come by during a lockdown. WildEarth’s livestreamed safaris are providing both to people around the globe who are missing nature while cooped up at home.
On a recent afternoon, guides at a South African nature reserve idled their truck alongside a pack of sleeping wild dogs. Rangers pointed out a nursing hyena, and watched a leopard named Tingana sitting sphinx-like in the tall grass.
It’s 4 p.m. on a Wednesday, and in a game reserve in northern South Africa, a baby elephant lumbers across a dirt road, ears flapping. Nearby, her mother hungrily scoops trunkfuls of grass into her mouth, chomping loudly as she goes.
No one should be here to see this. After all, South Africa’s national parks have been closed for more than a month, since a nationwide coronavirus lockdown closed public spaces here.
But as the elephant pair continues their meander, they have an audience of 11,322 people – all of them tuned into the livestream of a game drive through a private reserve near the country’s Kruger National Park.
Why We Wrote This Elephants and adventure: two things that probably seem hard to come by during a lockdown. WildEarth’s livestreamed safaris are providing both to people around the globe who are missing nature while cooped up at home.
And they’ve got questions for the ranger.
“Do elephants have feelings?” an 8-year-old in Singapore wants to know.
“Do they sleep standing up or sitting down?” asks a 6-year-old in India.
How big is an elephant’s foot? How close can you get to them before they get scared? Do elephants eat different things in the winter than in the summer?
Editor’s note: As a public service, all our coronavirus coverage is free. No paywall.
As the queries pour in, ranger James Hendry jostles along one of the park’s dirt tracks, simultaneously fielding questions (yes, they have feelings, and they typically sleep standing up, though babies in particular sometimes lie down) and navigating his truck toward the next watering hole.
For a decade and a half, a company called WildEarth has been livestreaming game drives in South Africa and Kenya, and selling the footage to National Geographic and other broadcasters. They have long had a loyal following of viewers, most of them American, who tuned in each morning and evening.
But over the last month, as countries around the world have issued stay-at-home orders to stop the spread of COVID-19, their popularity has ballooned. Between three and five times as many people are now tuning into the game drives as before the start of the outbreak, estimates Graham Wallington, who founded WildEarth with his wife Emily in 2006. And more of them than ever are South Africans – hungry for a glimpse of a world that while still close by, now feels very far away.
“Since this outbreak started, human beings have lost two very crucial things – one is a connection to each other, and the other is a connection to nature,” he says. “This is one nonconfrontational way of satisfying both.”
Since the coronavirus outbreak began, outdoor spaces around the world have searched for “virtual” alternatives to their normal programming, from 360-degree photos of American national parks to a video tour of the Grand Canyon led by Elmo. But arguably few at-home journeys are as visceral as watching a mother hyena cuddle her hours-old babies or a hippo snap his enormous jaw to warn off would-be predators.
“It’s a way for people to feel a sense of escape at a moment when they can’t really escape,” Mr. Wallington says. And because it’s happening in real time, without a script or a highlight reel, there’s a reason for viewers to keep tuning in each day.
That’s been especially important, WildEarth’s organizers say, for kids, millions of whom are now stuck at home without a lot to keep them busy. The first 45 minutes of each three-hour WildEarth safari drive are dedicated to questions only from kids, which are vetted and answered by rangers from their safari vehicles as they roam the reserves.
The set-up for the tours is simple: Cameras mounted to the back of safari vehicles give viewers a perspective on the park that mimics what they’d see if they were really on a South African game drive.
On a recent afternoon, guides idled alongside a pack of sleeping wild dogs, pointed out a nursing hyena, and watched a leopard named Tingana sitting sphinx-like in the tall grass.
“Isn’t he the best?” gushed ranger Lauren Arthur.
For viewers, no matter how far away, the experience can be surprisingly intimate.
Get stories that
empower and uplift daily. By signing up, you agree to our Privacy Policy Already a subscriber? Log in to hide ads.
“When I first heard about it, the idea of watching a game drive on YouTube didn’t sound very appealing to me,” says Heather Mason, an American travel blogger in Johannesburg who writes frequently about South African nature reserves. Wouldn’t a streaming safari be a shadow of the real thing, she wondered? “But it’s actually amazing. It feels like you’re really on a game drive, and that’s very relaxing.”
Editor’s note: As a public service, all our coronavirus coverage is free. No paywall.


csmonitor--2020-05-01--Who’s ‘essential?’ From Germany to the US, you might be surprised.

“ It ’ s much more intimate because service takes longer .
It ’ s as if we are returning to traditional commerce , commerce of the past , ” says Mr. Mure-Ravaud .
He ’ s been seeing a lot of “ children ” in the shop – people he ’ s known since they toddled in with their parents decades ago .
Now , they shop for their parents and grandparents , who are distancing at home .
“ I am not a nurse or on the front line , but I ’ m still here to provide @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Bernard Mure-Ravaud , owner of the cheese shop Fromagerie les Alpages in the French city of Grenoble .
For owners , operating amid social distancing protocols has brought extra challenges .
But some also say there ’ s been an unexpected joy in being able to serve their community .
There ’ s a clear consensus that banks , grocery stores , gas stations , and the like qualify as essential .
But other decisions about which services should stay open reveal the character of country and culture , as leaders make hard @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a functioning society .
Golf courses , bike shops , pro wrestling , cheese stores – they may not appear to have much in common .
But as lockdowns continue amid COVID-19 , each has been deemed an “ essential ” business somewhere in the world .
When Germany announced the country would be closing for business to try to contain the spread of the coronavirus , Standert Bicycles was one of the lucky retailers .
Berlin considers bike shops an “ essential business.
” But they were surprised to discover just how @ @ @ @ @ @ @ numbers increased , ” says head of marketing Benedict Herzberg , despite closing their physical store and going online-only for a high-end product that people typically want to see in person many times before purchasing .
People flocked to Standert ’ s website and phone lines to buy commuter bikes , in part to avoid public transport during the pandemic .
“ They want bikes now .
It ’ s not , ‘ OK , we can deliver in a week or two.
’ They ’ re calling for pickup in an hour @ @ @ @ @ @ @ swept across the globe , the implementation of lockdowns has forced hard choices on what businesses are critical to a functioning society .
There is a clear consensus that banks , grocery stores , gas stations , and the like qualify as essential services .
But other decisions about what is essential reveal the character of country and culture .
Editor ’ s note : As a public service , we ’ ve removed the paywall for all our coronavirus coverage .
It ’ s free .
And even as some purveyors in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ logistical challenges of remaining open , they found unexpected joy in being “ essential.
” Perhaps it was predictable that Berlin would let the bike shops stay open .
Cycling has run deep in German culture ever since the first two-wheeled bicycle was invented by a German nobleman in 1817 .
Apart from that , Mr. Herzberg says , the decision was prudent governance .
“ It empowers people to go out , breathe fresh air , strengthen your immune system , ” he says .
Standert Bicycles ’ retail store – which @ @ @ @ @ @ @ café , and post-training hangout for cyclists – has had to go mostly online .
But it has found success that way , running its 2,000-member cycling club virtually and developing a platform to allow members to go online , grab a route they like , and track themselves by GPS .
“ Cyclists will always cycle , ” Mr. Herzberg says .
And the sense of community – once celebrated in person at the shop and cafe – transferred to goodwill online .
“ We offered returning customers a discount , and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ‘ put it in the tip box for corona times.
’ ” Florida has made headlines for one of its more questionable recipients of essential status : professional wrestling .
But perhaps more important to the well-being of its citizenry , though still controversial , is golf .
The Sunshine State has more golf courses than any other U.S. state , and they were declared essential in a number of counties .
That changed the fate of the semi-private Palm Cove Golf Club , especially as another important outdoor outlet – beaches – @ @ @ @ @ @ @ were flooded , ” says Richard Pfluger , Palm Cove ’ s golf shop manager .
“ We showed record numbers – over 200 rounds a day – during times we normally have 75.
” Golfers came over from neighboring counties whose courses were closed , and others seized the ever-rarer opportunity to get fresh air .
Staying open required the “ unexpected altruism ” of the community , says Mr. Pfluger .
Friends of the club helped procure scarce masks , gloves , and sanitizers .
Some staffers left because they were @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and overtime was on order .
“ When the dust started to settle , I felt a certain accomplishment for having dealt with the stress , ” says Mr. Pfluger .
There was also a pride in servicing the community during challenging times .
“ Floridians live their days outside .
It ’ s an outdoor culture , and we ’ re getting lots of thank-you ’ s for being open , lots of thank-you ’ s for sanitizing the golf carts , ” says Mr. Pfluger .
“ We have an 87-year-old @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and made a plea for us to stay open so he can get his exercise.
” In France , where the average person consumes almost 60 pounds of cheese a year , cheese shops were declared essential .
So were chocolatiers and patisseries .
Bernard Mure-Ravaud , owner of the cheese shop Fromagerie les Alpages in the city of Grenoble , found he ’ s been able to reconnect with his customers in new ways .
After 37 years of business , Fromagerie les Alpages is back to the basics .
Clients used @ @ @ @ @ @ @ region ; now they trickle in from the surrounding neighborhoods .
Since no one ’ s in a rush to get anywhere , clients linger and discuss recipes in detail .
“ It ’ s much more intimate because service takes longer .
It ’ s as if we are returning to traditional commerce , commerce of the past , ” Mr. Mure-Ravaud says .
He ’ s also seeing a lot of “ children ” – people he ’ s known since they toddled in with their parents decades ago .
Now @ @ @ @ @ @ @ grandparents , who are distancing at home .
To combat isolation , Mr. Mure-Ravaud has launched virtual wine tastings on Facebook and Instagram Live , which have been attended by more than 100 people .
“ I am not a nurse or on the front line , but I ’ m still here to provide some happiness to people , ” says Mr. Mure-Ravaud .
“ Before this , people never said thank you .
Now , they say thank you for being open .
I am very proud.
” Editor ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ we ’ ve removed the paywall for all our coronavirus coverage .
It ’ s free .

“It’s much more intimate because service takes longer. It’s as if we are returning to traditional commerce, commerce of the past,” says Mr. Mure-Ravaud. He’s been seeing a lot of “children” in the shop – people he’s known since they toddled in with their parents decades ago. Now, they shop for their parents and grandparents, who are distancing at home.
“I am not a nurse or on the front line, but I’m still here to provide some happiness to people,” says Bernard Mure-Ravaud, owner of the cheese shop Fromagerie les Alpages in the French city of Grenoble.
For owners, operating amid social distancing protocols has brought extra challenges. But some also say there’s been an unexpected joy in being able to serve their community.
Amid lockdowns, which services are considered crucial? Depending on where you are, the answers range from supermarkets to golf. But some open stores share a common sentiment: pride in providing for their neighbors.
There’s a clear consensus that banks, grocery stores, gas stations, and the like qualify as essential. But other decisions about which services should stay open reveal the character of country and culture, as leaders make hard choices about what’s critical to a functioning society.
Golf courses, bike shops, pro wrestling, cheese stores – they may not appear to have much in common. But as lockdowns continue amid COVID-19, each has been deemed an “essential” business somewhere in the world.
When Germany announced the country would be closing for business to try to contain the spread of the coronavirus, Standert Bicycles was one of the lucky retailers. Berlin considers bike shops an “essential business.”
But they were surprised to discover just how essential they are.
“Raw sales numbers increased,” says head of marketing Benedict Herzberg, despite closing their physical store and going online-only for a high-end product that people typically want to see in person many times before purchasing. People flocked to Standert’s website and phone lines to buy commuter bikes, in part to avoid public transport during the pandemic. “They want bikes now. It’s not, ‘OK, we can deliver in a week or two.’ They’re calling for pickup in an hour. N-O-W.”
Why We Wrote This Amid lockdowns, which services are considered crucial? Depending on where you are, the answers range from supermarkets to golf. But some open stores share a common sentiment: pride in providing for their neighbors.
As the COVID-19 pandemic swept across the globe, the implementation of lockdowns has forced hard choices on what businesses are critical to a functioning society. There is a clear consensus that banks, grocery stores, gas stations, and the like qualify as essential services. But other decisions about what is essential reveal the character of country and culture.
Editor’s note: As a public service, we’ve removed the paywall for all our coronavirus coverage. It’s free.
And even as some purveyors in the U.S. and Europe struggled with early logistical challenges of remaining open, they found unexpected joy in being “essential.”
Perhaps it was predictable that Berlin would let the bike shops stay open. Cycling has run deep in German culture ever since the first two-wheeled bicycle was invented by a German nobleman in 1817. Apart from that, Mr. Herzberg says, the decision was prudent governance. “It empowers people to go out, breathe fresh air, strengthen your immune system,” he says.
Courtesy of Standert Bicycles View caption Hide caption Standert Bicycles CEO Max von Senger in his office, examining one of his Italian-made bike forks. Though Standert's Italy-based suppliers are on hiatus due to COVID, sales of commuter bikes are up as customers seek alternatives to public transportation.
Standert Bicycles’ retail store – which normally doubles as a repair shop, café, and post-training hangout for cyclists – has had to go mostly online. But it has found success that way, running its 2,000-member cycling club virtually and developing a platform to allow members to go online, grab a route they like, and track themselves by GPS.
“Cyclists will always cycle,” Mr. Herzberg says.
And the sense of community – once celebrated in person at the shop and cafe – transferred to goodwill online. “We offered returning customers a discount, and some told us to take it and ‘put it in the tip box for corona times.’”
Escape on the fairways
Florida has made headlines for one of its more questionable recipients of essential status: professional wrestling. But perhaps more important to the well-being of its citizenry, though still controversial, is golf. The Sunshine State has more golf courses than any other U.S. state, and they were declared essential in a number of counties. That changed the fate of the semi-private Palm Cove Golf Club, especially as another important outdoor outlet – beaches – were ordered shut.
“Our gates were flooded,” says Richard Pfluger, Palm Cove’s golf shop manager. “We showed record numbers – over 200 rounds a day – during times we normally have 75.” Golfers came over from neighboring counties whose courses were closed, and others seized the ever-rarer opportunity to get fresh air.
Staying open required the “unexpected altruism” of the community, says Mr. Pfluger. Friends of the club helped procure scarce masks, gloves, and sanitizers. Some staffers left because they were concerned. The days were long, and overtime was on order.
“When the dust started to settle, I felt a certain accomplishment for having dealt with the stress,” says Mr. Pfluger. There was also a pride in servicing the community during challenging times.
“Floridians live their days outside. It’s an outdoor culture, and we’re getting lots of thank-you’s for being open, lots of thank-you’s for sanitizing the golf carts,” says Mr. Pfluger. “We have an 87-year-old guy who walks nine holes every afternoon and made a plea for us to stay open so he can get his exercise.”
“Providing happiness to people”
In France, where the average person consumes almost 60 pounds of cheese a year, cheese shops were declared essential. So were chocolatiers and patisseries. Bernard Mure-Ravaud, owner of the cheese shop Fromagerie les Alpages in the city of Grenoble, found he’s been able to reconnect with his customers in new ways.
After 37 years of business, Fromagerie les Alpages is back to the basics. Clients used to come in from all over the region; now they trickle in from the surrounding neighborhoods. Since no one’s in a rush to get anywhere, clients linger and discuss recipes in detail.
“It’s much more intimate because service takes longer. It’s as if we are returning to traditional commerce, commerce of the past,” Mr. Mure-Ravaud says. He’s also seeing a lot of “children” – people he’s known since they toddled in with their parents decades ago. Now, they shop for their parents and grandparents, who are distancing at home.
To combat isolation, Mr. Mure-Ravaud has launched virtual wine tastings on Facebook and Instagram Live, which have been attended by more than 100 people.
Get stories that
empower and uplift daily. By signing up, you agree to our Privacy Policy Already a subscriber? Log in to hide ads.
“I am not a nurse or on the front line, but I’m still here to provide some happiness to people,” says Mr. Mure-Ravaud. “Before this, people never said thank you. Now, they say thank you for being open. I am very proud.”
Editor’s note: As a public service, we’ve removed the paywall for all our coronavirus coverage. It’s free.


csmonitor--2020-05-04--How teamwork and early testing helped Iceland tame COVID-19

Winter storms isolated the northern village of Hvammstangi from the rest of Iceland .
Then spring brought the coronavirus , isolating villagers from each other .
Now , as summer approaches , residents hope life is getting back to some kind of normal .
High schools , hair salons , dentists , and other businesses across Iceland are reopening Monday after six weeks of lockdown , after this North Atlantic nation managed to tame its coronavirus outbreak .
Iceland has confirmed 1,799 cases of the virus , but just 10 people have died .
The number of new COVID-19 cases @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the peak of the outbreak to single digits – even , on some days , zero .
“ I didn ’ t expect the recovery to be this fast , ” said Iceland ’ s chief epidemiologist , Thorolfur Gudnason .
Iceland ’ s success is partly testament to its tiny population – just 360,000 people .
But it also reflects decisive action by authorities , who used a rigorous policy of testing and tracking to find and isolate infected people , even when they had no symptoms .
That has helped Iceland @ @ @ @ @ @ @ near-total social and economic shutdowns enforced in many other European countries .
Infected people and their contacts were quarantined , but the rest of the population was not forced to stay inside , only to be careful .
A volcanic island nudging the Arctic Circle , Iceland may be remote , but it is far from isolated .
Its Keflavik Airport is a trans-Atlantic hub , and Icelanders are enthusiastic travelers .
As in several other European countries , some of the first cases of the virus here were brought back from ski @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Austrian village of Ischgl .
Early vigilance was key to Iceland ’ s success .
The country confirmed its first case of the virus on Feb. 28 , and declared Ischgl a high-risk zone on March 5 , two days before authorities there confirmed the first case .
Mr. Gudnason said Iceland had been updating and testing its response to a global pandemic since 2004 .
Hospitals had been testing people arriving from abroad for a month before the first confirmed case , and a media campaign urged hand washing and social distancing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ response knew its role from the start , ” he said .
Iceland quarantined everyone returning from virus hotspots and began test-and-trace measures to locate and isolate every case .
Bigger countries such as Britain took the same approach , at first .
But the U.K. abandoned test-and-trace in March as the number of cases overwhelmed the country ’ s testing capacity .
More than a month later and with almost 30,000 Britons dead , the U.K. is scrambling to resume testing and tracing as part of its route out of national lockdown @ @ @ @ @ @ @ helped by the presence of Reykjavik-based biopharmaceutical company deCODE Genetics , which early in the outbreak teamed up with health authorities to ramp up public testing .
Over six weeks , Iceland managed to test almost 50,000 people , more than 13 % of the population , the biggest chunk of any country in the world .
DeCODE did not test people already feeling sick or in quarantine , who were tested in hospitals .
The company used its facilities to test a cross-section of the population , and identified scores of new @ @ @ @ @ @ @ no symptoms .
Kari Stefansson , deCODE ’ s ebullient CEO , said the approach showed that “ with the use of modern science , even an epidemic like this one can be contained.
” Iceland ’ s testing yielded new leads for scientists about how the virus behaves .
Early results suggested 0.6 % of the population were “ silent carriers ” of the disease with no symptoms or only mild symptoms .
Preliminary research suggests one-third of those who tested positive at deCODE infected someone around them , providing evidence that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ much less than symptomatic patients .
In a random sample of 848 children under the age of 10 none of them tested positive , which guided Icelandic authorities ’ decision to keep schools open for children under 16 .
Alongside the testing , civil defense authorities set up a Contact Tracing Team , including police officers and university students , which used legwork and phone calls to identify people who had come into contact with infected individuals .
A mobile phone tracing app was up and running a few weeks later .
Mr. @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is shown by the fact that about 60 % of people who tested positive were already in quarantine after being contacted by the tracing team .
Altogether , 19,000 people were ordered into two-week quarantine .
Everyone else carried on with a semblance of normality .
Primary schools remained open , and some cafes and restaurants kept operating , following social distancing rules : No more than 20 people gathered at once and everyone 6.5 feet apart .
Starting Monday , gatherings of up to 50 will be permitted , high schools and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ businesses except bars , gyms , and swimming pools can reopen .
The entire country , however , must self-isolate from the rest of the world for the time being .
Everyone arriving from abroad faces a 14-day quarantine .
That means a bleak economic outlook for a country that depends on tourism .
On Road Number One , the “ Ring Road ” looping through Iceland ’ s coastal towns and villages , the Associated Press passed empty vista points and few cars .
“ Business can only go up from here @ @ @ @ @ @ @ alone at the roadstop in Hvammstangi .
The village , population 600 , was hit badly early on .
The town ended up having 26 confirmed cases of the virus , and was put under lockdown for a week while the transmission was being mapped out .
The local grocery store created “ shifts ” for customers so they could shop while socially isolating .
In an April snowstorm , local search and rescue volunteers used their super-jeeps to drive hospital staff to and from work and shuttled warm meals to elderly residents @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s lockdown a little more pleasant became people ’ s mission , ” Ms. Guðjónsdóttir said .
“ It really showed me the benefit of living in a small community.
” This story was reported by The Associated Press .
Editor ’ s note : As a public service , the Monitor has removed the paywall for all our coronavirus coverage .
It ’ s free .

Winter storms isolated the northern village of Hvammstangi from the rest of Iceland. Then spring brought the coronavirus, isolating villagers from each other. Now, as summer approaches, residents hope life is getting back to some kind of normal.
High schools, hair salons, dentists, and other businesses across Iceland are reopening Monday after six weeks of lockdown, after this North Atlantic nation managed to tame its coronavirus outbreak.
Iceland has confirmed 1,799 cases of the virus, but just 10 people have died. The number of new COVID-19 cases each day has fallen from 106 at the peak of the outbreak to single digits – even, on some days, zero.
“I didn’t expect the recovery to be this fast,” said Iceland’s chief epidemiologist, Thorolfur Gudnason.
Iceland’s success is partly testament to its tiny population – just 360,000 people. But it also reflects decisive action by authorities, who used a rigorous policy of testing and tracking to find and isolate infected people, even when they had no symptoms.
That has helped Iceland weather the pandemic without resorting to the near-total social and economic shutdowns enforced in many other European countries. Infected people and their contacts were quarantined, but the rest of the population was not forced to stay inside, only to be careful.
A volcanic island nudging the Arctic Circle, Iceland may be remote, but it is far from isolated. Its Keflavik Airport is a trans-Atlantic hub, and Icelanders are enthusiastic travelers. As in several other European countries, some of the first cases of the virus here were brought back from ski resorts in the Alps, including the Austrian village of Ischgl.
Early vigilance was key to Iceland’s success. The country confirmed its first case of the virus on Feb. 28, and declared Ischgl a high-risk zone on March 5, two days before authorities there confirmed the first case.
Mr. Gudnason said Iceland had been updating and testing its response to a global pandemic since 2004. Hospitals had been testing people arriving from abroad for a month before the first confirmed case, and a media campaign urged hand washing and social distancing.
“Each institution involved in the response knew its role from the start,” he said.
Iceland quarantined everyone returning from virus hotspots and began test-and-trace measures to locate and isolate every case. Bigger countries such as Britain took the same approach, at first. But the U.K. abandoned test-and-trace in March as the number of cases overwhelmed the country’s testing capacity. More than a month later and with almost 30,000 Britons dead, the U.K. is scrambling to resume testing and tracing as part of its route out of national lockdown.
Iceland’s testing capacity was helped by the presence of Reykjavik-based biopharmaceutical company deCODE Genetics, which early in the outbreak teamed up with health authorities to ramp up public testing.
Over six weeks, Iceland managed to test almost 50,000 people, more than 13% of the population, the biggest chunk of any country in the world.
DeCODE did not test people already feeling sick or in quarantine, who were tested in hospitals. The company used its facilities to test a cross-section of the population, and identified scores of new cases, including people with mild or no symptoms.
Kari Stefansson, deCODE’s ebullient CEO, said the approach showed that “with the use of modern science, even an epidemic like this one can be contained.”
Iceland’s testing yielded new leads for scientists about how the virus behaves. Early results suggested 0.6% of the population were “silent carriers” of the disease with no symptoms or only mild symptoms.
Preliminary research suggests one-third of those who tested positive at deCODE infected someone around them, providing evidence that silent carriers do transmit the disease but much less than symptomatic patients.
In a random sample of 848 children under the age of 10 none of them tested positive, which guided Icelandic authorities’ decision to keep schools open for children under 16.
Alongside the testing, civil defense authorities set up a Contact Tracing Team, including police officers and university students, which used legwork and phone calls to identify people who had come into contact with infected individuals. A mobile phone tracing app was up and running a few weeks later.
Mr. Gudnason said the approach’s success is shown by the fact that about 60% of people who tested positive were already in quarantine after being contacted by the tracing team.
Altogether, 19,000 people were ordered into two-week quarantine. Everyone else carried on with a semblance of normality. Primary schools remained open, and some cafes and restaurants kept operating, following social distancing rules: No more than 20 people gathered at once and everyone 6.5 feet apart.
Starting Monday, gatherings of up to 50 will be permitted, high schools and colleges can resume classes, and all businesses except bars, gyms, and swimming pools can reopen.
The entire country, however, must self-isolate from the rest of the world for the time being. Everyone arriving from abroad faces a 14-day quarantine.
That means a bleak economic outlook for a country that depends on tourism. On Road Number One, the “Ring Road” looping through Iceland’s coastal towns and villages, the Associated Press passed empty vista points and few cars.
“Business can only go up from here,” said Margrét Guðjónsdóttir, working alone at the roadstop in Hvammstangi.
The village, population 600, was hit badly early on. The town ended up having 26 confirmed cases of the virus, and was put under lockdown for a week while the transmission was being mapped out.
The local grocery store created “shifts” for customers so they could shop while socially isolating. In an April snowstorm, local search and rescue volunteers used their super-jeeps to drive hospital staff to and from work and shuttled warm meals to elderly residents around town.
“Making each other’s lockdown a little more pleasant became people’s mission,” Ms. Guðjónsdóttir said. “It really showed me the benefit of living in a small community.”
Get stories that
empower and uplift daily. By signing up, you agree to our Privacy Policy Already a subscriber? Log in to hide ads.
This story was reported by The Associated Press.
Editor’s note: As a public service, the Monitor has removed the paywall for all our coronavirus coverage. It’s free.


csmonitor--2020-04-29--Lockdown lifts in Lebanon, protests erupt over economic crises

Hundreds of protesters in Lebanon 's northern city of Tripoli clashed with troops until late Tuesday night leaving several injured on both sides in some of the most serious riots triggered by an economic crisis spiraling out of control amid a weeks-long virus lockdown .
Late Tuesday night , dozens of protesters gathered outside the central bank headquarters in the capital Beirut throwing stones toward the building before Lebanese soldiers dispersed them .
Protesters in other parts of Lebanon cut major roads including the highway linking Beirut with southern Lebanon .
The protests intensified Monday as Lebanon began easing a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the coronavirus pandemic in the country , which has reported 717 cases and 24 deaths so far .
In Tripoli on Tuesday , protesters set fire to two banks and hurled stones at soldiers who responded with tear gas and batons in renewed clashes triggered by an economic crisis , crash of the local currency , and a sharp increase in the prices of consumer goods .
Tripoli , a predominantly Sunni Muslim city , is in one of the most neglected and poorest regions in Lebanon , and there were concerns the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The violence was a reflection of the rising poverty and despair gripping the country amid a crippling financial crisis that has worsened since October , when nationwide protests against a corrupt political class broke out .
A lockdown to stem the spread of the new coronavirus has further aggravated the crisis , throwing tens of thousands more people out of work .
The national currency has lost more than 50 % of its value and banks have imposed crippling capital controls amid a liquidity crunch .
But it appeared to be in a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , selling as low as 4,000 Lebanese pounds to the dollar on the parallel market , down from a fixed peg of 1,500 pounds to the dollar in place for 30 years .
`` What you 're seeing is a result of accumulated problems .
We had a revolution , people were suffering , then came corona and people were locked in their homes for a month and a half without the state securing food and drink or anything else for them , '' said protester Abdelaziz Sarkousi .
`` Now we have @ @ @ @ @ @ @ not control people anymore .
People are hungry ! ''
Nearby , in a street lined with banks , dozens of protesters hurled Molotov cocktails , setting off blazing fires in at least two banks .
Troops deployed quickly to try to prevent further riots , occasionally firing rounds of tear gas to disperse the protesters .
Riots intensified in the afternoon with protesters setting two police vehicles ablaze as the army brought more reinforcements into the area to try to bring the situation under control .
Soldiers chased protesters through the streets @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Soldiers also fired tear gas and rubber bullets .
`` I was driving here yesterday with my wife and found protesters destroying and smashing [ the banks ] , then they opened tear gas and bullets on us , '' said resident Talal Sradar .
Smaller protests also erupted elsewhere in Lebanon , including in Beirut 's city center , where hundreds of demonstrators gathered Tuesday evening .
U.N. spokesman Stephane Dujarric said in reaction to the clashes that the world body urges protesters to `` exercise their right to protest peacefully and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to act proportionally in maintaining law and order . ''
U.S .
Ambassador to Lebanon Dorothy C. Shea tweeted that the frustration of the Lebanese people `` over the economic crisis is understandable , and the demands of protesters are justified .
But incidents of violence , threats , and destruction of property are deeply concerning , and must stop . ''
Last week , scattered anti-government protests resumed when the parliament held two days of meetings to draft and approve some laws but the protests were mostly in cars although there were @ @ @ @ @ @ @ anger has mounted against banks in Lebanon after they imposed capital controls on people 's deposits .
The tiny Mediterranean country of about 5 million people is one the most indebted in the world .
Nationwide protests broke out in October against the government because of widespread corruption and mismanagement of resources .
Prime Minister Hassan Diab 's government came to office in January after his predecessor , Saad Hariri , stepped down .
He was quickly engulfed in a nationwide health crisis over the novel cornavirus , a crisis that deepened the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was reported by The Associated Press .
Editor ’ s note : As a public service , the Monitor has removed the paywall for all our coronavirus coverage .
It ’ s free .

Hundreds of protesters in Lebanon's northern city of Tripoli clashed with troops until late Tuesday night leaving several injured on both sides in some of the most serious riots triggered by an economic crisis spiraling out of control amid a weeks-long virus lockdown.
Late Tuesday night, dozens of protesters gathered outside the central bank headquarters in the capital Beirut throwing stones toward the building before Lebanese soldiers dispersed them. Protesters in other parts of Lebanon cut major roads including the highway linking Beirut with southern Lebanon.
The protests intensified Monday as Lebanon began easing a weeks-long lockdown to limit the spread of the coronavirus pandemic in the country, which has reported 717 cases and 24 deaths so far.
In Tripoli on Tuesday, protesters set fire to two banks and hurled stones at soldiers who responded with tear gas and batons in renewed clashes triggered by an economic crisis, crash of the local currency, and a sharp increase in the prices of consumer goods.
Tripoli, a predominantly Sunni Muslim city, is in one of the most neglected and poorest regions in Lebanon, and there were concerns the confrontations would escalate to wider chaos.
The violence was a reflection of the rising poverty and despair gripping the country amid a crippling financial crisis that has worsened since October, when nationwide protests against a corrupt political class broke out. A lockdown to stem the spread of the new coronavirus has further aggravated the crisis, throwing tens of thousands more people out of work.
The national currency has lost more than 50% of its value and banks have imposed crippling capital controls amid a liquidity crunch.
But it appeared to be in a free fall over the last few days, selling as low as 4,000 Lebanese pounds to the dollar on the parallel market, down from a fixed peg of 1,500 pounds to the dollar in place for 30 years.
"What you're seeing is a result of accumulated problems. We had a revolution, people were suffering, then came corona and people were locked in their homes for a month and a half without the state securing food and drink or anything else for them," said protester Abdelaziz Sarkousi. "Now we have reached a state where unfortunately you cannot control people anymore. People are hungry!"
Nearby, in a street lined with banks, dozens of protesters hurled Molotov cocktails, setting off blazing fires in at least two banks.
Troops deployed quickly to try to prevent further riots, occasionally firing rounds of tear gas to disperse the protesters.
Riots intensified in the afternoon with protesters setting two police vehicles ablaze as the army brought more reinforcements into the area to try to bring the situation under control. Soldiers chased protesters through the streets after they threw stones at troops. Soldiers also fired tear gas and rubber bullets.
"I was driving here yesterday with my wife and found protesters destroying and smashing [the banks], then they opened tear gas and bullets on us," said resident Talal Sradar.
Smaller protests also erupted elsewhere in Lebanon, including in Beirut's city center, where hundreds of demonstrators gathered Tuesday evening.
U.N. spokesman Stephane Dujarric said in reaction to the clashes that the world body urges protesters to "exercise their right to protest peacefully and security personnel to protect peaceful protests and to act proportionally in maintaining law and order."
U.S. Ambassador to Lebanon Dorothy C. Shea tweeted that the frustration of the Lebanese people "over the economic crisis is understandable, and the demands of protesters are justified. But incidents of violence, threats, and destruction of property are deeply concerning, and must stop."
Last week, scattered anti-government protests resumed when the parliament held two days of meetings to draft and approve some laws but the protests were mostly in cars although there were some gatherings despite the lockdown.
Public anger has mounted against banks in Lebanon after they imposed capital controls on people's deposits.
The tiny Mediterranean country of about 5 million people is one the most indebted in the world. Nationwide protests broke out in October against the government because of widespread corruption and mismanagement of resources.
Prime Minister Hassan Diab's government came to office in January after his predecessor, Saad Hariri, stepped down. He was quickly engulfed in a nationwide health crisis over the novel cornavirus, a crisis that deepened the country's economic recession.
Get stories that
empower and uplift daily. By signing up, you agree to our Privacy Policy Already a subscriber? Log in to hide ads.
This story was reported by The Associated Press.
Editor’s note: As a public service, the Monitor has removed the paywall for all our coronavirus coverage. It’s free.


csmonitor--2020-05-01--‘Left with my thoughts’: How our reporter fought the coronavirus

I felt that in my body and my soul .
I wove it all into a cord I could cling to .
I was no longer alone .
It grew image by image : friends , my sons , our cat hiding in the rosebushes .
At its heart stood Edith , her love for me and mine for her .
Cementing the structure were the thoughts , messages , and prayers from friends .
Believers of every ecumenical stripe prayed for me .
Nonbelievers sent love and concern , too .
I was left with my thoughts , and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I had been constructing in my head .
But one night , doctors told me I would be moved in the morning to the intensive care unit .
“ No , ” I said .
“ Because there are fewer ways out of there.
” The staff who helped me had volunteered to serve on the coronavirus ward .
Their courage was intensely moving .
In France , where I live , the overwhelming majority of even the worst-affected patients have lived to tell the tale .
But as my wife , Edith @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the entrance to the hospital , I felt extremely vulnerable .
As far as I was concerned , once I had finished at the clinic I was going back home .
Instead , the clinic sent me straight to hospital .
And so began my personal fight with the coronavirus .
As far as I was concerned , once I had finished my lung scan at the clinic I was going back home , and I told the ambulance driver as much .
He scoffed .
A little lacking in bedside manner , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ only place I ’ ve ever taken someone with a blood oxygen level as low as yours is the emergency room.
” He was right .
The clinic sent me straight to hospital .
And so began my personal fight with the coronavirus that has struck at least 3 million other people around the world .
Obviously , I lived to tell the tale .
And so have almost all the other 3 million victims .
In France , where I live , the overwhelming majority of even the worst-affected patients survive .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ here during the first seven weeks of the pandemic ; it is worth remembering that 84 % of us were healed .
The hasty transfer to a hospital near my Paris home was not in fact the start of my coronavirus experience .
I had already been confined to bed at home for 10 days , cared for by my wife and two adult sons .
But now I was getting short of breath .
As my wife , Edith , blew me a goodbye kiss from the entrance to the blue canvas @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s makeshift admissions area for coronavirus cases , I felt extremely vulnerable .
A hospital emergency room in high gear , however , does not leave you much time to feel lonely .
I was prodded and probed , quizzed and queried , measured and metered .
And then wheelchaired to a little electric van that whizzed me to the building set aside for coronavirus patients .
I was at the Pitié Salpêtrière hospital .
More than 400 years old and spreading over several city blocks , the “ Salpet ” – as @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is one of the top teaching hospitals in Europe .
Its staff had all the personal protective equipment they needed , unlike a suburban hospital where a doctor friend was working , using a plastic trash bag as a gown .
I found myself in a tall-windowed single room flooded with light , which made me more fortunate than most of my 100 fellow coronavirus patients .
I was in total quarantine in the soundproofed room , but my mobile phone brought the world to me : I talked several times a day @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and messages from around the world , I listened to the BBC and French news , I streamed Schubert and Vivaldi and Aretha Franklin .
A nurse showed me how to fasten the two little tubes that fed oxygen into my nostrils and soon I was sucked into the implacable rhythm of high-maintenance hospital life , with visits from doctors and nurses and catering staff and cleaners – all covered head to toe in disposable protective gear – from six in the morning until 11 at night .
Every one of those doctors @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , a nurse told me , had volunteered to serve on the coronavirus ward .
No one who did not want to work there was obliged to do so .
That , perhaps , explains why all the staff treating me were so young ; all the doctors who cared for me were interns in their 20s .
Their courage , and that of their nursing colleagues , was intensely moving .
Less impressive , unfortunately , was the catering .
Like many severe coronavirus patients , I had lost my senses of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ my appetite .
I faced difficulty forcing down a few spoonfuls of yogurt ; even a banana defeated me .
When I was confronted one Saturday lunchtime with choucroute , a pile of fermented cabbage topped with several varieties of sausage and a chunk of pig knuckle , I could manage only a hollow laugh .
I lost 26 pounds during my illness .
And then , suddenly , even hollow laughs were out of place .
The concern that doctors and nurses had been showing shaded almost imperceptibly into alarm .
I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in a nosedive .
That night , in the middle of the night , a doctor came to see me .
I was dazed and confused , struggling to fill my lungs , but I understood what she had to tell me .
I had a severe case of coronavirus , she said , and was suffering from double pneumonia .
I was already having six liters of oxygen an hour pumped into me ; on the standard coronavirus ward they could not administer more because that would require closer monitoring than they @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
So they were preparing a bed for me in the intensive care unit , she said , where I would be given as much oxygen as I needed .
I would be moved in the morning .
“ Why not ?
” she asked .
“ They can take care of you better there.
” “ Because there are fewer ways out of there.
” She was a young trainee doctor .
She had no answer .
She turned the lights out and left .
I was left with my thoughts , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ wall that I had been constructing in my head each hospital night , a wall to keep the virus out .
I built it image by image , each one giving me strength , forming an imaginary semicircular shield .
Friends I value especially for their courage and wisdom ; my two sons , full of vitality and strength ; memories that give me particular pleasure ; a vision of our cat hiding in the rosebushes at our country home ; a friend ’ s radiant painting of flowers , offering promise of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
At the heart of this defensive mental kaleidoscope stood Edith , her love for me and mine for her .
And packed around the edges , in the chinks , cementing the structure , were all the thoughts , messages and prayers I was being sent from friends and colleagues across the world .
( I have lived a globetrotting life . )
My mobile pinged with text messages and emails .
Edith received even more .
Believers of every ecumenical stripe prayed for me – worshipers at a synagogue in California @ @ @ @ @ @ @ North African Muslim who mans my local newspaper kiosk , and , of course , Christian Scientists the length and breadth of this newspaper .
Nonbelievers sent their love and concern , too .
And I felt all that in my body and my soul .
I do not know how , but I did .
Hunkered down in my hospital bed , my room dimly illuminated by a ghostly night-light , I wove all those prayers and thoughts into a cord I could cling to while I hung on to my own @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was no longer alone .
The doctor who kept my wife informed of my condition in daily phone calls had told her that these 48 hours would be decisive .
I didn ’ t need to be told .
When dawn broke , I was still on six liters of oxygen , and comfortable .
Nobody came to take me to intensive care .
I was wakeful and alert all morning , and mid-afternoon a nurse turned the oxygen down to 5-1/2 .
I couldn ’ t see her face behind her surgical @ @ @ @ @ @ @ could hear the smile in her voice as she told me what she was doing .
And that ’ s how I stayed for the next 24 hours , hovering just inside the ward ’ s oxygen limits , and just out of reach of the ICU .
I didn ’ t listen to the news or to much music .
Instead I concentrated on myself , drawing on my resources .
Thankfully they proved sufficient .
Within four days I was off oxygen altogether , and three days later I was discharged @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , I still tire very easily .
Often I will lie down with a book after lunch and wake up at five o ’ clock .
I still find myself out of breath more quickly than normal when I do exercises to rebuild my withered muscles .
I have a little machine to boost my lung capacity .
It consists of three columns and three balls .
I have to breathe in for as long and as steadily as I can so as to hold one or more of the balls at the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is just as boring as it sounds .
Much less boring , though , are meals now that I have recovered my sense of taste .
I have regained my appetite ( and some of those missing 26 pounds ) , but strangely my sense of taste is now heightened ; strong flavors such as vinegar , chili pepper , and ripe French cheese , once favorites , are now anathema .
Nobody can tell me how long this might last .
Nobody can tell me much , in fact .
Am I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ experts differ .
Why did I get better ?
I have my own opinions on that , as I have explained .
But as a 66-year-old man in only average physical shape , I am particularly fond of the reason a young doctor gave me a couple of days before I left the hospital .
“ Because you are young and strong , ” she said .
If I had not been infected with coronavirus , and if her face had not been covered by a mask and visor , I would have @ @ @ @ @ @ @ : As a public service , all our coronavirus coverage is free .
No paywall .

I felt that in my body and my soul. I wove it all into a cord I could cling to. I was no longer alone.
It grew image by image: friends, my sons, our cat hiding in the rosebushes. At its heart stood Edith, her love for me and mine for her. Cementing the structure were the thoughts, messages, and prayers from friends. Believers of every ecumenical stripe prayed for me. Nonbelievers sent love and concern, too.
I was left with my thoughts, and I marshaled them into the protective wall I had been constructing in my head.
But one night, doctors told me I would be moved in the morning to the intensive care unit. “No,” I said. “Because there are fewer ways out of there.”
The staff who helped me had volunteered to serve on the coronavirus ward. Their courage was intensely moving.
Brave health care workers, strong family bonds, a flood of support and prayer from friends around the world: Our correspondent, Peter Ford, shares how all helped him heal.
In France, where I live, the overwhelming majority of even the worst-affected patients have lived to tell the tale. But as my wife, Edith, blew me a goodbye kiss from the entrance to the hospital, I felt extremely vulnerable.
As far as I was concerned, once I had finished at the clinic I was going back home. Instead, the clinic sent me straight to hospital. And so began my personal fight with the coronavirus.
As far as I was concerned, once I had finished my lung scan at the clinic I was going back home, and I told the ambulance driver as much.
He scoffed. A little lacking in bedside manner, he told me bluntly that “the only place I’ve ever taken someone with a blood oxygen level as low as yours is the emergency room.”
He was right. The clinic sent me straight to hospital. And so began my personal fight with the coronavirus that has struck at least 3 million other people around the world.
Why We Wrote This Brave health care workers, strong family bonds, a flood of support and prayer from friends around the world: Our correspondent, Peter Ford, shares how all helped him heal.
Obviously, I lived to tell the tale. And so have almost all the other 3 million victims. In France, where I live, the overwhelming majority of even the worst-affected patients survive. Some 83,000 people were hospitalized with coronavirus here during the first seven weeks of the pandemic; it is worth remembering that 84% of us were healed.
The hasty transfer to a hospital near my Paris home was not in fact the start of my coronavirus experience. I had already been confined to bed at home for 10 days, cared for by my wife and two adult sons.
But now I was getting short of breath. As my wife, Edith, blew me a goodbye kiss from the entrance to the blue canvas tent that served as the hospital’s makeshift admissions area for coronavirus cases, I felt extremely vulnerable.
A hospital emergency room in high gear, however, does not leave you much time to feel lonely. I was prodded and probed, quizzed and queried, measured and metered. And then wheelchaired to a little electric van that whizzed me to the building set aside for coronavirus patients.
A new set of rhythms
I was at the Pitié Salpêtrière hospital. More than 400 years old and spreading over several city blocks, the “Salpet” – as the place is known to Parisians – is one of the top teaching hospitals in Europe. Its staff had all the personal protective equipment they needed, unlike a suburban hospital where a doctor friend was working, using a plastic trash bag as a gown.
I found myself in a tall-windowed single room flooded with light, which made me more fortunate than most of my 100 fellow coronavirus patients. I was in total quarantine in the soundproofed room, but my mobile phone brought the world to me: I talked several times a day to my family, I got calls and messages from around the world, I listened to the BBC and French news, I streamed Schubert and Vivaldi and Aretha Franklin.
A nurse showed me how to fasten the two little tubes that fed oxygen into my nostrils and soon I was sucked into the implacable rhythm of high-maintenance hospital life, with visits from doctors and nurses and catering staff and cleaners – all covered head to toe in disposable protective gear – from six in the morning until 11 at night.
Every one of those doctors and nurses and kitchen staff and cleaners, a nurse told me, had volunteered to serve on the coronavirus ward. No one who did not want to work there was obliged to do so. That, perhaps, explains why all the staff treating me were so young; all the doctors who cared for me were interns in their 20s. Their courage, and that of their nursing colleagues, was intensely moving.
Karen Norris/Staff View caption Hide caption Members of the Monitor staff welcome Peter Ford home from the hospital during a Zoom meeting.
Less impressive, unfortunately, was the catering. Like many severe coronavirus patients, I had lost my senses of taste and smell, and with them my appetite. I faced difficulty forcing down a few spoonfuls of yogurt; even a banana defeated me. When I was confronted one Saturday lunchtime with choucroute, a pile of fermented cabbage topped with several varieties of sausage and a chunk of pig knuckle, I could manage only a hollow laugh. I lost 26 pounds during my illness.
And then, suddenly, even hollow laughs were out of place. The concern that doctors and nurses had been showing shaded almost imperceptibly into alarm. I had been stable. Now I was in a nosedive.
That night, in the middle of the night, a doctor came to see me. I was dazed and confused, struggling to fill my lungs, but I understood what she had to tell me. I had a severe case of coronavirus, she said, and was suffering from double pneumonia. I was already having six liters of oxygen an hour pumped into me; on the standard coronavirus ward they could not administer more because that would require closer monitoring than they had staff for, the doctor explained.
So they were preparing a bed for me in the intensive care unit, she said, where I would be given as much oxygen as I needed. I would be moved in the morning.
“No,” I said.
“Why not?” she asked. “They can take care of you better there.”
“Because there are fewer ways out of there.”
She was a young trainee doctor. She had no answer. She turned the lights out and left.
Constructing a protective wall
I was left with my thoughts, and I marshaled them into the protective wall that I had been constructing in my head each hospital night, a wall to keep the virus out.
I built it image by image, each one giving me strength, forming an imaginary semicircular shield. Friends I value especially for their courage and wisdom; my two sons, full of vitality and strength; memories that give me particular pleasure; a vision of our cat hiding in the rosebushes at our country home; a friend’s radiant painting of flowers, offering promise of a future; my brother in England.
At the heart of this defensive mental kaleidoscope stood Edith, her love for me and mine for her. And packed around the edges, in the chinks, cementing the structure, were all the thoughts, messages and prayers I was being sent from friends and colleagues across the world. (I have lived a globetrotting life.)
My mobile pinged with text messages and emails. Edith received even more. Believers of every ecumenical stripe prayed for me – worshipers at a synagogue in California, evangelical Christians in Colombia, the North African Muslim who mans my local newspaper kiosk, and, of course, Christian Scientists the length and breadth of this newspaper. Nonbelievers sent their love and concern, too.
And I felt all that in my body and my soul. I do not know how, but I did. Hunkered down in my hospital bed, my room dimly illuminated by a ghostly night-light, I wove all those prayers and thoughts into a cord I could cling to while I hung on to my own willpower at the same time. I was no longer alone.
A decisive moment
The doctor who kept my wife informed of my condition in daily phone calls had told her that these 48 hours would be decisive. I didn’t need to be told.
When dawn broke, I was still on six liters of oxygen, and comfortable. Nobody came to take me to intensive care. I was wakeful and alert all morning, and mid-afternoon a nurse turned the oxygen down to 5-1/2. I couldn’t see her face behind her surgical mask, of course, but I could hear the smile in her voice as she told me what she was doing.
And that’s how I stayed for the next 24 hours, hovering just inside the ward’s oxygen limits, and just out of reach of the ICU. I didn’t listen to the news or to much music. Instead I concentrated on myself, drawing on my resources. Thankfully they proved sufficient. Within four days I was off oxygen altogether, and three days later I was discharged.
Today, nearly three weeks later, I still tire very easily. Often I will lie down with a book after lunch and wake up at five o’clock. I still find myself out of breath more quickly than normal when I do exercises to rebuild my withered muscles.
I have a little machine to boost my lung capacity. It consists of three columns and three balls. I have to breathe in for as long and as steadily as I can so as to hold one or more of the balls at the top of their columns. The exercise is just as boring as it sounds.
Much less boring, though, are meals now that I have recovered my sense of taste. I have regained my appetite (and some of those missing 26 pounds), but strangely my sense of taste is now heightened; strong flavors such as vinegar, chili pepper, and ripe French cheese, once favorites, are now anathema. Nobody can tell me how long this might last.
Nobody can tell me much, in fact. Am I now immune to the virus? Medical experts differ. Why did I get better? I have my own opinions on that, as I have explained. But as a 66-year-old man in only average physical shape, I am particularly fond of the reason a young doctor gave me a couple of days before I left the hospital.
“Because you are young and strong,” she said.
Get stories that
empower and uplift daily. By signing up, you agree to our Privacy Policy Already a subscriber? Log in to hide ads.
If I had not been infected with coronavirus, and if her face had not been covered by a mask and visor, I would have kissed her.
Editor’s note: As a public service, all our coronavirus coverage is free. No paywall.