Dearly missing: effortless encounters

It has now been nine weeks since the coronavirus took charge of the everyday lives of people in Finland. Since then, we have been living under varying restrictions, most severely imposed on the elderly and other people belonging to the risk group. As days go by, I have noticed that my sentiments towards the virus, and the measures taken to contain it, have changed.

First, there was the initial disbelief of the I-cannot-believe-that this-is-really-happening sort, coupled with the insatiable thirst for information on the day-to-day developments of the global crisis. Then there was the slow process of adapting to the new realities of the socially and geographically shrunken world where many things I had hitherto taken for granted were suddenly taken away.

And now there’s a new phase. As many restrictions are relaxed, there seems to be more leeway for independent judgement and personal decisions on how much social distancing is enough. In a way, the new period feels the toughest. It places a heavy burden on everybody’s shoulders. I feel the symptoms of corona fatigue but do not want to put anybody in danger by acting recklessly.

All of a sudden, small decisions get completely blown out of their normal propositions. Am I allowed to go a hairdresser, or is that an unnecessary risk I should not take? Can I meet my elderly parents outdoors even if my kids are now back in daycare, which has dramatically increased my family’s daily contacts?

In the midst of all this, I often think of one word: transition. The corona crisis has opened my eyes to noticing how easily in my pre-Covid 19 everyday life I would traverse from one social circle to another, without giving any further thought to it. There were colleagues from work, other parents we met on the daycare yard, neighbours, friends and family, occasional strangers who happened to sit in a table next to us in a restaurant.

All these people – and all these smooth and natural transitions from one social world to another –which the coronavirus took away from us.

I suspect that there is something in the human nature, or in any case certainly in mine, that needs such materiality. Yes, it is possible to have virtual coffee breaks with your colleagues or let a grandmother read a fairytale to her grandchildren through a videocall. It is not possible, however, to maintain the sense and feel of the separate social worlds and experience the transitions between them as a way to recalibrate yourself to the rhythms and sensibilities of each new social encounter.

I think that’s what I miss the most: the effortless sociability, firmly rooted in the mundane geographies of my everyday.

Kirsi Hantula, researcher, writer, Alice Labs Ltd.