Letter from Spain: Living in isolation, Day 24

View from our balcony in Pamplona. Outside, it's spring.

I felt the first impact of the corona virus on March 12. Attendance in my Economics class was abnormally low, only 11 of the 24 students. Normally, I have attendance rates of close to 90%.

What happened? The numbers of sick and dead in Spain had started to rise. The fear was Spain might become another China, Iran, or Italy, where the virus was infecting and killing thousands.

I heard that students from Latin America and Asia were getting phone calls from worried parents, telling them to come home. News of growing numbers of infections in Europe had spooked them. Besides, the Easter break was nearing, and they wanted their kids home for all the traditional family gatherings.

My Chinese students told me by email that they had gone home because health standards were higher there than in Spain, where people were still behaving as though there was no danger. They would be safer in their home country, they believed. (These two students and a Japanese student were immediately put into quarantine upon arrival back home. As of a few days ago, all are safe.)

Still, the Universidad de Navarra, where I teach, had not yet canceled classes in Pamplona. I told students that for our next class, as an experiment, we would have class virtually, via a Zoom teleconference. "Just an experiment," I told them.

Then I went for a swim at a public pool. Far fewer swimmers than normal. Afterwards, I asked the lifeguard if I was taking a risk of catching the virus from other swimmers. After all, the water is in and out of people's mouths and noses. "Nah, no worries," he said. "The chlorine will kill anything in the water." Still, I made a mental note not to use the pool again. The next day, city authorities closed all the pools and community centers.

A patrol car stopped on our street today. A municipal police car like this one stopped me while I was jogging on a bike path in a park. National and provincial police are also patrolling the streets of Pamplona to enforce the lockdown.

Busted: "Stay home"

Two days later, March 14, President Pedro Sanchez issued a decree declaring a nationwide lockdown to prevent the spread of the corona virus. Our university canceled classes. The decree required people to stay in their homes unless they were going to shop for food, medicine, or other essentials. Only essential workers would be allowed to circulate, going to and from work. At this point, "essential services" included beauty parlors, banks, and tobacco stores, which also sell lottery tickets.

Three days after the decree, March 17, I went out for a run on a bike path through a park near our apartment. This was my third day in a row. I figured I wasn't risking contaminating anyone or getting infected, and I hadn't seen any police. As I rounded a bend, I saw a cop car stopped on the bike path, next to a couple of dog walkers, so I turned around and headed back home.

Then I heard a car coming up behind me on the path. The cop pulled up beside me and waved me over to the passenger window. The cop scolded me and said I was not supposed to be out of my apartment. Then he got out, asked me for my ID. I didn't have it, I said, because I was just wearing running shorts.

The cop looked frustrated and angry. He told me he was going to issue a citation and fine me. Then he asked for name, address, birthday, foreign ID number, and telephone number and wrote it all down in a tiny notebook. I had to correct him a couple of times when he repeated the information back to me. I use Latin American pronunciation, which confuses people sometimes.

I forgot to ask the cop what the fine would be. Later I saw in the paper that fines were ranging from 100 to 600 euros, about $110 to $660. As of April 7, I haven't gotten a letter. Maybe he'll lose track of his notes or transpose a couple of digits. Dog walkers, it turns out, are exempt from these restrictions.

A supermarket chain offers advice for shoppers the week before Easter: "plan ahead, make a list, shop during the least busy times, stay 6 feet apart". And at the lower left, a hashtag slogan to share on social media: "With you [now] more than ever".

 Restrictions even tighter

A week after the original decree, President Sanchez extended the decree to at least the end of March, and then to April 14. He tightened the restrictions even more to require some manufacturers to shut down, effectively paralyzing the economy through at least the end of April.

The result was that last week, just as in the U.S., the number of unemployment claims exploded. Spanish workers can absorb this kind of crisis better for a number of reasons.

• Unemployment benefits are extended for longer periods than in the U.S. 
• People don't lose their health coverage when they lose their job. The national health care system covers everyone, including Cindy and me, since I am a taxpayer and registered on their system.
• Extended families are very tight here and provide a safety net that would require a dozen different social service agencies or charities in the U.S.
• Also, there is an extensive underground cash-only labor market. So some people will be making money in spite of layoffs. 

Nightly applause for health care workers

"To applaud, subscribe to the facts". By ElPais.com

Each night at 8, people all across Spain get out on their balconies (multi-family, connected housing is the rule here) to applaud the health care workers who are risking their lives during the crisis. Neighbors call to each other across the streets and alleys. Channel 4 broadcasts images of this live every night. It's very touching and a sign of solidarity. The message to the front-line health care workers is "we recognize your courage".

My sister Mary, a photographer in Cleveland, Ohio, has been taking pictures of people out on their front porches, maintaining social distancing. She is participating in a grass roots campaign called the Front Steps Project that encourages people to share these photos and contribute to local charities. The political folks may be trying to "control the narrative" for their point of view, but ordinary people are trying to show their solidarity, both in Spain and in the U.S.

Here in Spain, the government is a tenuous left-leaning coalition led by the head of the Socialist party. Of course, there are right-wing polemics against the Socialist government's policies. But mostly people seem to have the spirit of pulling together. That may be easier here. Spain is so much smaller geographically and in population. And the crisis has been worse here.

TV is full of public service messages by sports figures and celebrities emphasizing #yomequedoencasa, "I'm staying home." Government officials were on TV tonight emphasizing again that people must stay home this week, Holy Week. They must not attempt to visit family members, second homes, or condos at the beaches because the risk of spreading contagion still is great. Police are fining people and sending them back home.

Solidarity while in isolation. My sister Lainie, her husband, Joe, their son Danny, and his girlfriend, Michelle. Part of my sister Mary's Front Steps project. Joe, a teacher, is giving his classes virtually. Lainie is a physical therapist, working part-time. Danny is an actuary working virtually. Michelle, principal french horn player in a symphony, is practicing several hours a day.

Our days and nights

Cindy's routine has not changed much. She is retired. Her daily routine includes reading the books she has on Kindle, planning vacations that we may or may not ever take, organizing the hundreds of photographs she has taken in recent months, cleaning our 750-square-foot apartment, planning menus and shopping lists, tracking our expenses to the centavo, and other tasks that put things in order.

Cindy used to have lunch and English conversation sessions once or twice a week with various university professors and administrators. All that has ended. 

Every day at around 1:30 she used to go for coffee at our local cafe/bakery and then on to the supermarket. Now the bakery allows only one person in at a time, and no one is allowed to sit down. The supermarket often has a line out the door, but it might take only 15 minutes or so to get inside.

I went to the bakery several times during the lockdown to say hi to the owner and employees, who have become friends. Also I went to the supermarket but have stopped. We decided about two weeks ago that my leaving the apartment wasn't worth the risk. I'm in two high-risk groups. I take a drug for my gut that weakens my immune system. And I am officially an old person--on Social Security and Medicare.

Cindy does an exercise routine involving some pilates and some aerobics. I've been doing about an hour a day, some aerobics and some pilates. After the run-in with the cop, I ran the stairs in our five-story apartment a few times. Then I decided the enclosed stairwells represented a risk, especially when I was breathing so hard. If any airborne cooties were floating around, I might inhale them.

WhatsApp nights, Zoom classes

We have nearly daily WhatsApp video conversations with Bridget and Will in Germany, and Christine and Ada in New York City. We also connect with Patrick and Jamie but less often.

I have been giving my classes on Zoom since March 17. Previously a class would consist of two 45-minute sessions with a 15-minute break. Now a Zoom class is 30 or 40 minutes total and the emphasis is not on a lecture but on their questions and comments about reading material. Attendance has been good: 19 or 20 per class. Some of my kids are in Colombia, where a 10 a.m. class starts at 3 a.m., or Brazil, where it's 4 a.m. So I record the class for them

The new online dynamic actually makes them more responsible for the material. In a traditional session, I would interpret the readings for them. I would show them how to be critical readers. Now, the burden is more on them.

These are 18- and 19-year-olds with little or no experience in most things economic. So when I teach them about interest rates, and why a $100,000 loan for a home mortgage has an interest rate of only 4% while a credit card loan has a rate of 20% or 25%, they don't always get it right away.

Reading, writing, research

Nobody believes it when I tell people how hard university professors work, even if they are actually teaching only 14 hours a week (as I was in the first semester) or 4 hours (this semester). My colleagues have to go to many meetings every week. There are committees and subcommittees and commissions and study groups. The model is 1,000 years old, from the first universities in Bologna, Oxford, Paris, and Salamanca, among other places.

Fortunately, because I don't have a Ph.D. and am a mere assistant professor, I escape many of these meetings, but not all. However, my time is consumed by grading the many written assignments I give students. In the fall, with 270 students in three completely different courses, that was exhausting. This semester, with 24 students in only one course, I'm surfing.

So what else am I doing? I'm involved in four academic research projects that require lots of time for writing, reading, proofreading, and collaborating. Also, I scheduled some consulting gigs for this semester, two of which have been canceled. The third one is for a German publisher's foundation, Deutsche Welle Akademie, in which I am mentoring the founders of three journalism startups, one in Africa and two in Latin America.

There were also two journalism conferences that I was planning to attend, one in Italy and one in Austin, Texas. Both were canceled. I use those for networking and learning and collecting material for research. Here's a link to one of my research publications: Social Capital to the Rescue of the Fourth Estate: A Playbook for Converting Good Will into Economic Support. And this one is in Spanish: A return to public service and a focus on the user: Signs of the media revolution in Latin America.

I've started a reading program around how artificial intelligence is affecting journalism. It turns out that robots are faster and more accurate than humans at producing a lot of routine journalism, particularly sports and financial results. Most people, even journalists, can't always identify when an article was produced by a robot. 

Goofing off

Now, with lots more time on my hands, I'm listening to lots of podcasts and watching a lot of movie classics that the Cleveland Public Library has through its Kanopy service. I recommend "Room at the Top" and any of the movies that Sophia Loren and Marcello Mastroianni made together. Both of those actors are brilliant.  

Otherwise, I read things recommended by friends and family members. Also I've been reading some the monthly selections of our old book club from Columbus, Ohio. President for Life Jeff Cabot has maintains an updated list. They've read a lot of books since we left Columbus in 1995. I have some catching up to do. 

The daily newspapers here have few advertisers except those that emphasize how they are helping during the crisis. This one, from Caixa Bank, talks about how they have 2,500 specialists on staff to help small businesses and the self-employed get access to cash and lines of credit. Like the ad for the supermarket chain above, the hashtag slogan is "With you [now] more than ever."

News media are getting hammered

In an ironic twist, news websites around the world are getting more traffic and less advertising than ever. People want reliable information about the virus, but many advertisers have either canceled all their advertising or are blocking their ads from appearing next to any content that mentions "covid-19" or "corona virus".

To make things worse, reputable news media have a lot of competiton for digital advertising from unethical websites pushing sensationalistic conspiracy theories and misinformation. At least 132 websites tracked by Newsguard, which calls itself "The Internet Trust Tool", are pushing false conspiracy theories. It should be no surprise, but sensationalism is a lucrative business. It sells. Social media and search engines tend to amplify content that gets a lot of hits. Algorithm driven software then steers ads to those sites, which translates into revenue for unethical publishers.

Don't watch cable TV or any TV

A recurring theme in the media I subscribe to--Washington Post, New York Times, New Yorker, Wall Street Journal-- is how depressed people get from following the news on TV and in social media. At least here in Spain, I can ignore 90% of it.

You may have already read part of my rant about why people hate the news media and how cable news is undermining the credibility of all media. To relieve stress, consult your social media only once a day and don't watch cable TV. You'll feel better that way.

Wake me when it's time to vote. That way I won't have to see all the political ads. At least in Spain, I won't see most of them. Then wake me when the election is over. It's less stressful that way.