Because history repeats itself, I figured there should be series here so that I can tell my future grandchildren about the Quarantine Months back in 2020. It would go something like this:
Gather around dearies, and I know [insert catastrophic event] is really bumming you out right now and it’s frustrating that your teleportation devices aren’t working, and your spring trip to the Moon is postponed, but let me tell you what it was like during the quarantine months of 2020, which we now all call the “The Skipped Year”. It’s a marvel that your grandfather and I ever even reunited!
Now, you’ve heard about the COVID-19 pandemic and the impact on healthcare, economy, etc. We’ll skip that history lesson, but let me tell you the real deal about how I kept myself occupied during these months alone in my little apartment back in the City. And perhaps this will inspire you to find other creative ways and not complain so much about the hologram portal and telekinetic vaporizer!
If you prefer the short version, listen to “When Will My Life Begin” and that sums up basically sums up my experience, minus the long, golden hair and the pet frog.
First of all, I certainly underestimated how long this quarantine would last. When my office went into BCP mode and everyone started to work from home, I thought maybe two months, and then we’d be back. Needless to say, two months went by in a blink, and I was still stuck at home. Initially, I thought this extra time was going to be great — no social obligations, less spending, I was going to be so so productive and embark on all these educational hobbies and develop skills that I previously never had time for. Let me tell you now, precisely how productive I was.
I swept off the cover of my electric piano keyboard and double checked all the wires and sound worked. It’s been far too long since I’ve played. The first month of quarantine, I embraced piano and practicing. It was so exciting! I even dug out an old desk lamp from the back of the closet to shine on the sheet music. Each evening, I played at least an hour, immersing myself in familiar classical pieces of Chopin, Schubert, Bach. I loved the way my hands stretched and muscle memory brought back Debussy’s Por La Piano to life, powerful chords and glissandos shaking the keyboard. Sunday mornings, I’d play church music in lieu of being able to attend a mass. For several weeks, I also binged the YouTube streaming of Phantom of the Opera, Love Never Dies, and Andrew Lloyd Webber’s videos playing his masterpieces. I’d sight-read through those musicals, pouring my heart into singing their lyrics over and over. I asked my beloved piano teacher for her copy of Claire de Lune, so ambitious and excited to learn a new, beautiful song. Needless to say, this piano fever lasted about 6 weeks, when suddenly, I realized that a lot of dust has gathered on the piano and I couldn’t remember the last time I played. (Sincere apologies, Mrs. Hunt; I’m a terrible student and only learned that first page of Claire de Lune! But no end to quarantine in sight, so maybe there is still hope….)
Exercising — another short-lived habit that I started off with oh so ambitiously. How did I ever convince myself for even a few weeks, that daily exercises were going to be a lasting part of post-quarantine-me? Phew, I’m almost sweating just thinking about all the exercise apps I downloaded that first week! 7-Minute Workouts, Workout Women, Pop Sugar Fitness; even joined the virtual classes offered through our office’s gym. I tried them all. So pumped to dominate these daily workouts and get that bikini bod during this serendipitous extra time returned by WFH. Sometimes, my friend and I would video chat and do a workout together. I have just enough floor space for the yoga mat, and every evening between finishing work and starting dinner, I put in a solid 30–45mins of exercises. I mastered holding the plank form; completed squat jump and lunge series without breaks; used Gatorade bottles for weights. My core was totally starting to form the outline of abs. At some point, I can’t even tell you why or how, but the exercise routine just disappeared from my day, similarly to how my piano playing just mysteriously stopped.
Moving on to the next activity that [temporarily] took my interest. Games. One might have thought that games are better played live, with physical interactions, but of course, the internet has very much solved that problem. I’m not a natural gamer (that actually requires skill) and prefer games that are educational. I can always justify an educational benefit to the games I play, ensuring that my brain is absolutely not just turning into mush spending hours on these games.
For instance, the online version of Scrabble, Words With Friends, is super educational. My vocabulary of 2–5 letter words have for sure expanded. Words such as qats (leaves of an Arabian shrub), gorp (basically trail mix), ja (Korean unit of measure), dodder (parasitic plant), are all very useful additions for my understanding of the English language.
I also rediscovered a childhood computer game, Age of Empires. This historical based, real-time strategy computer game of conquest expansion is absolutely educational. I’m building online empires of various civilizations through the Dark and Middle Ages and sending armies to defeat each other. These campaigns teach history, such as the Aztec Empire and how Emperor Moctezuma ruled the gold-rich hills of Tenochtitlan, fighting heroically against the invasion of Spain’s Cortez, eventually being a civilization wiped out by the introduction of horses and gunpowder. Additionally, through multiplayer games, I’m connecting my brother and my boyfriend, which makes it even more imperative to play numerous hours into the night since it’s a collective (virtual) bonding experience.
The last game often played is Overcooked 2. It’s a family game, and while the animation is very adorable, if I were to argue its educational merits, it would be for the hand eye coordination practice. Albeit it’s not the typical hand eye skills needed for sports, but the speed in which your hands must click on the keyboard to shuffle your narwhale character across the kitchen to assemble and cook food orders as fast as possible, so there’s certainly some useful techniques learned. From making chocolate milkshakes to sushi rolls to woks of noodles, this game also teaches cooperation and teamwork with the other players. Very educational.
True thanks is owed to the inventors of WiFi, Internet, streaming. A lot of time is spent on video chats with my parents (your great grandparents), boyfriend (your grandfather), and occasional group friend calls in order to keep up some 2D human interactions. No stranger to a long-distance relationship, these unexpected months of respective quarantine in our countries did make it difficult. I don’t have a TV and Netflix (this was a popular streaming service for movies and shows) hadn’t inspired any binge watching for me. I did, however, follow Cantonese dramas regularly (admittedly, this was already an existing hobby) since, per my education-justifying excuses, Cantonese reading and speaking are most certainly improved by watching dramas. I also attempted to read books. [Will paper books still exist? Do you know what they are?] Given my affinity for only (re)reading physical, paper books, my options were limited to a select few classics that adorned my bookshelf, including A Tale of Two Cities, The Count of Monte Cristo, The Age of Innocence, (I may actually embark on the journey for Les Miserables, surely that book is long enough to take me through, appropriately so, this miserable-quarantine).
Now, dear grandchildren, if after hearing all this, you’re still not convinced that there are plenty of better options available for you to entertain yourself in this day and age compared to when I was younger, let me also share with you some activities that I pondered doing, but did not get around to (because I was too busy doing variations of the above). Clean the room. Yes, yes, I know your machines and smart house has auto-clean already, but perhaps you could try doing it by hand, sifting through your desk and cabinets. Rearrange the furniture. Redecorate. Give your living space a new look, clear out the mind. Learn a new language through online classes. There are plenty of educational activities you can do to entertain yourself.
What I learned most from the quarantine-past-time-exploration is that the mind automatically drives (or stops) the motivation and discipline for developing a new hobby. In this reflection, I honestly have no justification for why certain hobbies just faded away, even unbeknownst to my conscious self.
