Aha! The new normal

The summer in Berlin ended two weeks ago, when thermometers recorded a spectacular drop of 20°C. One day we were heading to lakes and outdoor pools for relief from the heat and the next we were rummaging through our wardrobes for cardigans and raincoats. Although the summer is technically not over yet, there is an autumnal feel in the air. The mornings have turned decidedly chilly, while the fallen leaves on the ground are getting more noticeable. As the coronavirus summer ends, the coronavirus autumn begins.

Aha!

Some of us were lucky enough to enjoy a proper summer break, perhaps even going abroad, while others opted for a staycation. For most of us, though, the holiday time is over and it’s back to old routines, well not quite. The new normal in Germany is represented by the AHA rules. In this case Aha is not an exclamation to express satisfaction or surprise - Aha! So that’s how you defeat coronavirus! - and it also doesn’t stand for alpha-hydroxy acid. Moreover, it doesn't refer to the Norwegian pop band that was popular in the eighties (Take on meee!). In the year 2020, AHA is an abbreviation of Abstand (distance), Hygiene (hygiene) and Alltagsmasken (daily masks). 

Going back to school

While children around the world are returning to school or are preparing to go back to school in the coming weeks, here in Berlin children have already completed their fourth week of school. The first week was dedicated to learning the AHA rules obviously. Apart from the compulsory masks, the social distancing (not in classrooms) and hygiene rules, school here is pretty much back to normal. We even managed to have an Elternabend or parents’ evening (a general meeting about the class) in the assembly hall, where we were all sitting 2m apart and wearing masks.

It's virus time

As life gradually returns to normal, albeit under the AHA rules, and recreational and cultural activities pick up, what can we expect? Viruses of course! However much we wash our hands and keep away from crowded places, viruses will reach us, especially if we spend time with children. As GPs and paediatricians are keen to point out, there are plenty of viruses out there, in addition to the infamous one. 

After three weeks of school, the first virus made its way into our home, in the form of a sore throat, runny nose and fever.  I spent last weekend wondering whether it was coronavirus and where to get tested. When I finally managed to get through to the paediatrician to ask for advice on the following Monday, it became clear that a Covid-19 test would not be required. Luckily, it wasn’t a serious infection and it cleared up after a few days. In the area where I live, it seems that the only way to get a free test without a long wait is to return from a Risikogebiet, i.e. a region at risk. When I started sneezing and feeling under the weather, my husband suggested booking a cheap return flight to Spain so that I could get tested. The alternative would be a private test in Berlin that costs €158,65. Sunshine and tapas here I come! 

On a serious note, check the guidelines for your country or region. If you live in Berlin and your child is ill, this PDF by the Berlin Senate Department for Education, Youth and Family explains what to do.

The dark times are coming

Summer time is officially over. On Sunday we turned back the clocks, so this means that it is now a little lighter in the mornings, but over the next few weeks it will be getting darker and darker in the afternoons. This is not a good prospect, considering that we are currently facing the second wave of coronavirus and things are only expected to get worse. 

While Angela Merkel has been telling us to stay at home and to reduce social contacts, many in Berlin seem to be ignoring her advice. On Saturday night, the police broke up an illegal party in Mitte. In a tweet, the police suggested that “for the 600 guests the fetish party probably ended unsatisfactorily”. If you can read German, I would recommend following Polizei Berlin Einsatz on Twitter. Not only are their latest tweets entertaining, but they also show that the police are being kept busy by people failing to observe the AHA rules.

By the way, it is now AHA + A + L (Abstand, Hygiene, Alltagsmaske + App + Lüften), i.e. distance, hygiene, masks + Corona warning app + fresh air. Meanwhile on Sunday, roughly 2000 people gathered at Alexanderplatz to protest against the Covid rules.

The end of summer time this year coincided with the end of the autumn half-term or Herbstferien. As schools in Berlin restarted today, the question every parent and teacher will be asking themselves is: how long before things start to change? So far schools have been functioning fairly normally, but we have been advised of a stage-plan for Berlin schools based on the Corona Ampel, or traffic-light coronavirus-warning system for the city. The three lights correspond to the reproduction number (or R value), the number of new infections per 100,000 inhabitants and the number of beds occupied in intensive care. Currently one of the lights is red and has been for some time (the number of new infections), one is yellow (R value), while the other one is green so overall the traffic light is yellow. Presumably we will know more later this week, as the situation evolves. 

Meanwhile, you might want to make a trip to the shops if you’re running low on toilet paper. After months of normal supplies, toilet paper shelves have started to look bare again, as panic-buying returns. Next time I go shopping I’ll check on soap and hand sanitiser levels!

Life in “lockdown light” – week 3

Be a couch potato, be a hero.

It’s week three of lockdown light and the German government, or Bundesregierung,  has come up with a new strategy to convince young people to stay at home. They are running an online campaign with a series of ironic documentary-style videos showing old people reminiscing about the winter of 2020, a time when they were young and they became heroes by simply doing nothing. In one short film, an old man shows off the medal he was awarded for his outstanding contribution in the fight against coronavirus. He was a lazy slob, who stayed at home all day playing computer games and eating junk food. His friends used to make fun of him, but due to his laziness he became a hero because he stopped the virus spreading. The final message is: “Become a hero too and stay at home”, hashtag #besonderehelden or special heroes.

If the scenes at the Mauerpark last Sunday are anything to go by, it’s likely to be an uphill struggle. Clearly Berlin is not a city of couch potatoes. Crowds gathered at the park, which, by the way, has been enlarged recently. As well as people dancing in close proximity to one another (clearly in defiance of the AHA rules), there were multi-ethnic families having barbeques, aspiring musicians trying out new beats, aspiring acrobats trying out new tricks, graffiti artists spraying on the walls and the usual boules-playing gang.

Meanwhile in a different part of Berlin, Prince Charles was giving a speech, partly in German and partly in English, at the Bundestag, the German Parliament. He was attending a ceremony to commemorate Germany's National Day of Mourning for victims of war. Actually, his German is quite impressive! I wonder if the Prince of Wales is aware that there is a nightclub in Berlin named after him. Unfortunately, the club called Prince Charles, like all other clubs (in case you didn't know, Berlin is famous for its club scene), is closed due to the current Covid restrictions. I should point out that Prince Charles and Camilla are amongst the first passengers to land at the newly opened BER airport. It was worth opening a painfully delayed airport in the middle of a global pandemic after all!

Talking of the royal family, season four of The Crown is finally available to watch on Netflix. My favourite moment so far is when a mystified Margaret Thatcher, played by Gillian Anderson, wonders why she is wasting her precious time at Balmoral, while «struggling to find any redeeming features in these people» (i.e. the royals), who her husband describes as “boorish, snobbish and rude”. Meanwhile, Earls Court, where Lady Diana lives, is a place for “prostitutes and Australians”. That is according to Princess Margaret, played by Helena Bonham Carter. If you think you come from an odd family, don’t worry you’re in good company, even though you might not live in a palace or castle.

Life in “lockdown light” – week 1

The first week of “lockdown light”, as it’s being called in Germany, is almost over. Compared with the first lockdown in the spring, when almost everything was closed, this is only a partial lockdown. Meetings are restricted to two households (a maximum of 10 people), both indoors and outdoors, and if you meet someone from a different household you must keep a distance of 1.5 m. Cafes and restaurants can only open for takeaway (thus producing more rubbish than ever, but they need our support to keep going). Bars, cinemas, theatres, operas, concert halls, museums, fitness and yoga studios, swimming pools, nail bars, beauty salons, tattoo studios, etc. have been closed since Monday 2 November. Unlike the previous lockdown, all shops and hairdressers are open, as are libraries and playgrounds, though the number of people allowed inside a shop is limited. 

Crucially schools and nurseries remain open and are not expected to close unless the situation worsens dramatically. As I mentioned before, there is a stage-plan for Berlin schools based on the Corona Ampel, or traffic-light coronavirus-warning system for the city. The Covid situation for each school and district is assessed at the end of the week and parents are informed of the required measures before the start of the following week. At the moment, face masks don’t need to be worn inside classrooms in primary schools, but if the traffic lights were to change that would be the next step. I was surprised to find out that swimming lessons will still take place, as they are part of the school curriculum in year 3, even though pools are closed to everyone else. 

Thus, this lockdown affects primarily the leisure, culture, beauty and catering sectors. Some argue that the closure of shopping malls would have been preferable to shutting down the arts and culture sector, but the government reckons that we tend to socialise more when we go out to the cinema or to the theatre than when we go shopping. The aim of the lockdown is to reduce social contacts by a significant amount to slow the spread of Covid-19. Even though it isn’t as restrictive as the previous one, the word lockdown has very negative connotations. Some of us still have nightmares from the previous lockdown. Others might have coped well the first time round but may be feeling low this time. Of course, the colder weather and shorter days don’t help, at least in the northern hemisphere. 

If you are currently living in full or partial lockdown, here are some more suggestions to help you get through these difficult times. 

Make sure you take care of both your mental and physical wellbeing. The two often go hand in hand. It’s normal to feel anxious or worried at this time. If you are experiencing severe anxiety, panic attacks, or other symptoms make sure you seek help. Talk to a friend about how you feel and consult a doctor and/or a psychologist. They can help you.

Try to get out as much as possible and exercise regularly. Walking, running or cycling are all great ways to keep active, especially in nature. Head to your local park, forest, lake, beach, hill or mountain. Even though fitness centres and swimming pools are closed, there are alternatives. For example, I’ve gone back to yoga and pilates lessons via Zoom. Although it’s not the same as exercising in a room with other people, there are significant benefits to digital exercise. 

Try to find distractions to help you switch off from all the negative and worrying news. This week the cliffhanger “US presidential election 2020” has provided a welcome source of distraction and entertainment. I can’t wait for Netflix to make the second season! What’s that? Are you seriously suggesting this is not a tv-series, it’s for real? 

Here are some other suggestions: read a book, watch a film, listen to music, bake a cake, look after your plants or buy a plant, call a friend, whatever helps you relax. 

Meanwhile, the list of recommendations to avoid the spread of Covid-19 gets longer and longer, as I discovered while cycling past this advertising board the other day. 

It used to be AHA, an abbreviation that stood for distance, hygiene and masks. Now it’s: 

• Keep a distance

• Wash your hands

• Wear a mask

• Ventilate regularly 

• Reduce contacts

• Use the app

Just to give you an idea of what they mean by “ventilate regularly”, classrooms need to be aired every half hour. That means opening all the windows, as well as the door, for five minutes every 30 minutes.  As the weather gets colder, schools and parents are considering investing in air filters for each classroom to avoid freezing when the winter really hits. Of course, the most effective air filters tend to be a lot more expensive. I’m waiting to see if they find a solution.

A tricky telephone conversation

Anyone who speaks a foreign language will know that certain situations are particularly tricky: for example, when you’re on the telephone (and can’t see the facial expressions and lip movements of the other person); when you’re on the telephone and the person at the other end is giving you distressing news; when you’re on the telephone, the person at the other end is giving you distressing news and can’t pronounce the German consonant "z" properly (the German consonant "z" sounds like "ts" in English).

Last Friday, I had just sat down at my desk to write a post about my experience with crowdfunding, when the phone suddenly rang. It was a local Berlin number, caller unknown. When I picked up, the male voice at the other end of the line sounded excessively jolly; the man was clearly trying not to alarm me. As soon as I heard the word Schwimmhalle, or swimming pool, I realised this would not be a jolly conversation indeed. He was calling to inform me that my son had just had an accident and had injured his "Fahn". He repeated the word that sounded like "Fahn" and I wondered what on earth he meant. I had never heard of a "Fahn". What could you injure in a swimming pool? How worried should I be? He also suggested I should make an appointment with a doctor of some sort. By now I was getting quite frantic.

The German language is renowned for its compound words. The word for doctor is Arzt and the words denoting most specialist doctors are compound nouns ending in arzt. For instance, a paediatrician is a Kinderarzt (literally children’s doctor), a gynaecologist is a Frauenarzt (women’s doctor), a dermatologist is a Hautarzt (skin doctor), while a dentist is a Zahnarzt (tooth doctor). If only I could understand what doctor he meant, then I might be able to guess which part of the body had been injured. After the man repeated the word Zahnarzt several times, I suddenly realised that my son had hurt his tooth.

I put on my face mask, jumped into a taxi and gave the driver the address of the swimming pool. During the short taxi ride, I kept replaying the sentence in my head “Hopefully the tooth can still be saved”, which I realised is what the man had actually said. That didn’t sound too reassuring. When I got to the pool, I saw a group of schoolchildren waiting outside; they were being instructed in the AHA rules. I made my way inside and followed the yellow arrows on the floor, courtesy of the coronavirus regulations, and eventually found my son talking to the Bademeister or pool supervisor. After signing the accident form, we were joined by the swimming instructor, who first told me about the accident, but then proceeded to complain about the other children’s poor breaststroke technique. Somehow it didn’t seem like an appropriate conversation, given that I’d been called there for an emergency.

For anyone who hasn’t learnt to swim in Germany, you should know that children in this country first have to master breaststroke perfectly before they can learn any other stroke. I read in a German newspaper once that this tradition stems from the army: you need to be able to swim with your head above water to hear commands and to keep an eye out for the enemy! 

When we eventually got to the dentist, my son was seen very quickly, and we were reassured that his Zahn wasn’t loose, while his gum would heal rapidly despite looking, in the words of the dentist, gruesome. I will spare you the gory details, suffice it so say, it involved a piece of gum and some bleeding. By Monday morning, the gum had healed as if by magic, and he was able to go back to school. All’s well that ends well.

To go back to the beginning of this story, in order to be able to speak a foreign language on the phone, it’s not enough to be a good listener, you also have to be good at guesswork.

*Photo by Sharjeel Khalid on Unsplash

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!