From lockdown through flockdown to touchdown

The worst months of the year are over as far as I’m concerned. 

January was a very dreary month; it felt as if it would never end. Lockdown fatigue was at its highest and it wasn’t easy to find reasons to feel cheerful. February, on the contrary, provided some well-needed distraction from the coronavirus pandemic, courtesy of the unpredictable Berlin weather. This was in spite of the lockdown and in spite of the absence of the Berlin Film Festival (if all goes well, we will have the chance to watch the films in cinemas in June!). Carnival is never a big deal in Berlin, so we didn’t really miss it and we could still eat Pfannkuchen. This year there was a new variation: the Impfung (or vaccination) Pfannkuchen, with a complementary syringe.

First, we had an extremely cold spell in early February, with snow showers and temperatures plummeting to as low as -18ºC, turning Berlin into a winter wonderland and a playground for winter sports. A new word was born: Flockdown (a combination of Schneeflocke – or snowflake - and lockdown). All the snowy slopes were taken over by kids and adults sledging downhill. Some people were even seen skiing on the white city streets. Smiles returned to Berliner’s faces and the sound of laughter could be heard again. Sledges and other sliding devices were completely sold out (online and in shops where you could click and collect; the retail sector remained closed). 

After several days of freezing temperatures, all the lakes, rivers and canals in Berlin froze over, including the lake in Weissensee, which turned into a temporary ice rink, with skaters performing pirouettes and ice hockey players competing in serious matches. We even saw a family, presumably hungry after all the ice-skating action, grilling sausages on the frozen lake! The police, however, were not convinced that it was safe to tread on the frozen surfaces and their helicopters flew low over the lakes at the weekend to send people away. 

One week later, climate change alarm bells were ringing. Temperatures soared to +18ºC and the sun was shining. Berliners could hardly believe it. They ditched their woolly hats and scarves for their picnic blankets and flocked to the park (over 5,000 people congregated in Mauerpark on a Sunday afternoon). The police this time were busy trying to keep order and making sure the coronavirus regulations were being observed. For instance, it is still verboten to drink alcohol in parks in Berlin. Meanwhile, the birds were very confused by the sudden swing in temperatures and cranes (in German Kraniche) were heard emitting their distinctive calls while migrating north.

The end of February saw the first relaxation of the strict lockdown measures. Primary schools reopened, to parents’ delight, but only for pupils in years one, two and three, and classes were divided into two groups. In some schools children go every day for three hours, while in others they attend for two or three mornings a week. My son now spends half the week at school and half the week being home-schooled; this is known as Wechselunterricht. The situation is similar to when schools restarted after the first lockdown last spring, but there are some differences.  For instance, it is now compulsory to wear a face mask everywhere on school grounds, including in classrooms and in the playground. Meanwhile, nurseries are reopening on 9 March and more pupils will also go back to school next week. 

Hairdressers and barbers reopened on 1 March and queues quickly built up outside their shops, as people were desperate for a haircut. The lockdown has been extended until 28 March so everything else is still closed, but there will be some relaxation from next week. For example, from 8 March, up to five people from two households will be allowed meet, with children under 14 not counted.

By the way, Flockdown was not the only word to be invented during the pandemic. The Leibniz Institute for the German Language has compiled a list  of over 1,000 new words coined over the past year. These include AHA-Regel, which I have already written about, Coronaangst (anxiety about the coronavirus), Coronaeltern (parents challenged by the Covid regulations) CoronaFußgruß (foot greeting to replace the handshake), Coronaparty, Fashionmaske (fashion face mask), Homeclubbing, Klopapierhamster (toilet paper panic buyer), Querdenker (Covid denier who doesn’t follow the restriction measures) and overzoomed (stressed out by too many Zoom calls). I’m surprised there isn’t a word to describe a parent exhausted by the challenges of home schooling. Are you feeling homeschooledout? 

Finally, one of the highlights of the winter lockdown for me was watching the Mars landing. We were glued to the NASA YouTube channel on the evening of 18 February, as we followed the Perseverance rover approach Mars and then successfully touch down on the red planet. It was more exciting than any show I've seen on Netflix lately!

Surviving the winter lockdown

#StayatHome

So here we are again, only this time it’s worse. We’re in the middle of the second wave of the Covid pandemic and the situation is serious. For the first time since the beginning of this crisis all three traffic lights of the coronavirus-warning system for Berlin are red. The number of Covid-related deaths in Germany is at a record high. The lockdown measures have been toughened once again and even stricter restrictions are expected to be announced next week. 

Unless you keep a steady eye (or ear) on the local news, it’s impossible to keep up with all the changes. The Tagesspiegel App has become my bible. At the moment we can meet only one person from another household (children are now included in the calculation). We are not supposed to leave the house unless we have a valid reason. We are also not supposed to leave Berlin, or at least we can’t go further than 15 km from the border into Brandenburg, our neighbour state. 

The spring lockdown was bad enough, but the winter lockdown is on another level. Winter in Berlin is always a difficult time of the year. I’m not just saying this because I grew up in Sicily. Even native Berliners struggle with the long, grey and dark days, when catching a glimpse of the sun for just a few minutes feels like a miracle. Now that we spend most of our time at home, the days and weeks are a blur. They all seem to be melting into one long week. It feels surreal. Is this really happening or is it all a bad dream? 

Schools have been closed for a month now and the whole school situation has been terribly mismanaged, with conflicting information and backtracking on decisions. Home schooling is proving to be an even greater challenge than during the previous lockdown. Finding the assignments for the week is a bit like a treasure hunt, as the information is uploaded on different websites or arrives by email. Excuses to avoid studying include “I’m hungry”, “I’m tired”, “my arm hurts”, “I need the toilet” and my favourite “my pen exploded”.  Today I read in the news that home schooling and working from home are not compatible. How insightful.   

The online learning platform called Lernraum Berlin (the website that all teachers and students in Berlin are supposed to use) is totally unreliable and keeps crashing. On several occasions, we’ve had to resort to alternative websites for videoconferences. I’m starting to wonder if the people responsible for Lernraum Berlin are the same ones that were managing the construction of the “new” airport.

Talking of Berlin-Brandenburg Willy Brandt Airport (BER) airport, it has been back in the news this week, as employees have reported suffering electric shocks while checking passenger luggage! You couldn’t make this stuff up.

On a positive note, and to parents’ relief, the playgrounds in Berlin are still open, at least for the time being (this wasn’t the case in spring). Usually, playgrounds are deserted at this time of the year, but not now, as they are currently the only place where children can let off steam. 

If you are looking for distractions to survive the winter lockdown, here are some recommendations. 

This week I’ve been watching British sitcom Mum on the Arte App (where you can watch films and tv series in the original language without subtitles). It’s a slow-moving “comedy” with a great cast about a recently widowed, middle-aged woman called Cathy. It has funny moments, but it also makes you cringe. Some of the other characters are quite horrible and you do wonder how Cathy manages to stay so calm and gentle. 

I also watched the documentary Bethany Hamilton: Unstoppable on Netflix . It tells the inspiring story of surfing champion Bethany Hamilton, who lost her arm in a shark attack while surfing as a teenager, and made a comeback against all odds. 

Also on Netflix, the documentary The Social Dilemma will put you off using social media forever, or for a while at least.

I’ve been reading A Manual for Cleaning Women by Lucia Berlin, who has been praised as “a literary genius” in recent years. It’s a wonderful collection of short stories based on events from the author’s diverse and itinerant life. Whether they are based in laundromats, classrooms or the emergency room, Lucia Berlin tells vivid stories with humour and compassion.  

I’ve also been reading The World’s Worst Teachers by David Walliams with my son. Plenty of funny moments in these gruesome stories about the 10 worst teachers in the world, with great illustrations by Tony Ross.

Finally, I’ve been listening to the podcast called The Writer’s Voice, where New Yorker fiction writers read their short stories. A great chance to hear a good story told by its author.

*The poster (pictured) tells Berliners to wear face masks and to follow the Corona-rules. It is a play on the words rumgurken, which can be translated as "hang out" and comes from the word Gurke, i.e. cucumber and Rübe, which means turnip or carrot but is also used to describe an ugly nose.