bilbo goes to sweden

The world appears to be returning to normal.

At least, it is true for me. According to some comments left here on on the Facebook edition of Mexpatriate, not everyone feels comfortable with life shifting back into a more familiar pattern.

"Returning to normal" will be read differently according to the regimen you have adopted for survival during these viral times.

I have a friend in Morelia who has essentially gone to ground. To her, isolation means isolation. She told her staff to stay home, and she is now having what she needs to survive delivered to her front door. Let's call that the Hobbit method.

I have taken a different path. My front door is like The Time Tunnel where James Darren was transported each week to some new adventure -- except there is no time travel through my door. Walking through it is like entering a different social world.

When other people started sealing off their front doors, I knew it would be futile for me to take the same path. Plenty of people travel between the two worlds that border on my front door: Dora, the woman who helps me clean my house; Antonio, the pool guy; Omar and Yoana (my son and his girlfriend); and an assorted cast of Mexican acquaintances.

I could have stopped the flow (with the exception of Omar who is a working man), but I did not see the need. After the beaches were closed and no coronavirus cases were reported here, it seemed a bit like overkill to me.

For the past few weeks, I have practiced a form of social distancing. I primarily stay home, but I escape about once a day either for exercise, to drop off or pick up laundry, and to buy groceries. Because my coping system has adopted most of the attributes from the Swedish model of dealing with the virus, let's call it the ABBA method.

Based on some very mixed guidance from the local, state, and federal authorities, a number of hotels and restaurants have opened at 50% capacity this week. While I have been out, it seems more people are in the streets since those announcements.

The villages have an aura of turning the page to return to something approximating daily routine. I do know some of the Hobbits think everything is moving too fast. And a lot of the ABBAites do not see much change because they had already started transitioning out of self-imposed social exile.

Nothing could have been better evidence that the psychological restraints are being removed than the opening of restaurants that have been closed for two months. I had dinner last night at El Manglito in Barra de Navidad. It is one of my favorite places to eat. It has a great view with good food -- and often lots of loud Mexican tunes.

Not many people were there, but there were enough to make the place lively -- including a small birthday party. The absence of masks on customers made sense. Eating dinner while wearing one would be a bit counterproductive.

Simona's, the restaurant next door, had people at each of the outside tables. Because I knew several of the people there, I walked over to say hello. There were hugs and handshakes all around -- even from me, a guy who will studiously avoid shaking hands.

The sense of relief was palpable. I was concerned when we emerged from solitary confinement that we would be wary of one another. There was none of that. People were glad to be sharing food, music, and the view (the very core ingredients of living in Mexico) with one another.

And the beach vendors were back flogging their wares, almost giddy at the prospect of the beaches opening on 1 June. No one seemed to be interested in their trinkets, but I watched a Mexican man slip a note into the hand of a vendor and do the same thing when another arrived.

It was a perfect synthesis of celebrating life and showing compassion. Jesus's punchline in the parable of the Good Samaritan ("You go and do as he did") seemed apt.

Just as there was no one right answer in how to personally deal with the threat of the coronavirus, there will be no one right answer in learning to live with its potential presence. People will make their own choices.

But, I do know one thing. Just like everything in life, this will end well.