Inspired by Nick Farriella’s parody “This Side of Paradise: A Letter from F. Scott Fizgerald, Quarantined in the South of France,” I decided to pen my own letter about our experiences in waiting out the Coronavirus pandemic. Note that this viral letter letter was a parody and was not written by Fitzgerald. It was brilliantly done, though! The letter below is my own and everything I recount is true.
A letter from Audrey Alice Ruhland, Quarantined in 2020 in the North of Nicaragua during the Coronavirus Pandemic.
Dear Annie,
The wind is howling through the estuary, kicking up ash from the burn of the nearby sugar cane fields and making the water slap heavily against our hull. The white canvas of the boat docked next to us is flapping in the wind, twisting and turning and pushing a much needed breeze into our cabin. It is hot here, in Nicaragua, and any breeze is welcome.
We are quite isolated in Aserradores, in a small community of sailors used to living a life far from others, on the outskirts of a quiet town with only one road that leads out. The nearest city of Chinendenga is an hour’s drive away. We will have to go there, soon, to buy more groceries, soap, and toilet paper. I am worried about procuring toilet paper because in all of this hysteria, that’s the one thing that people are clinging to, at least in the United States. A strange phenomenon to witness from a place where we have to pay $40 and wait until Wednesdays to fill our water tanks. I, like the locals here, worry about water. The world, it seems, is worried about toilet paper.
G is worried about nothing. He is content. Thrilled to be in the tropics. Right now he is setting up the sewing machine to mend a tear in our sheets, a fitted sheet made custom for the v-shape of our mattress, one that we can’t replace until we return to the States. It is nearly impossible to receive mail here. But we have what we need on our tiny, self-sustaining sailboat, and feel better off in Nicaragua than anywhere else we might be back home. We have miles of a black sand beach to ourselves, a truck that delivers local produce weekly, and a stock of four bottles of white wine and five bottles of rum in addition to the two cabinets stuffed to the gills with other libations. Our days are filled with ample sunshine, periods of social distancing, and profuse sweating caused by the relentless heat.
Nicaragua is one of the only countries in the world that has not responded to the Coronavirus pandemic. Its government has not closed the borders or advised its citizens to practice any safety measures. People are starting to take matters into their own hands, pulling children out of schools and posting signs about washing hands and keeping to themselves. This country has seen so much hardship and turmoil, over the past two years especially, that they just learn to make do and soldier on.
The news from abroad fills me with anxiety and my eyes overflow with tears at least once daily. I worry for the future and the ever-changing evolution of our plans. Costa Rica and Panama are closed to foreigners now and we are not sure yet if we will be able to go forward with transiting the Panama Canal by May. G reassures me that these emotions are normal but reminds me that we are healthy and safe, okay for the time being. And a thin, full rainbow broke through the heavy gray clouds of a storm that only threatened the promise of rain last night, filling me with hope of a lighter, cooler, better tomorrow.
Yours,
Audrey
If you write your own quarantine letter, let me know! I would love to read it. And if you want to read more, check out Bron Hogan’s letter, Self Isolation in Tasmania.