A Lockdown State of Mind

Article and photo by Lisa Baltodano-Manuales

Several weeks into 2020, many countries began to experience Coronavirus outbreaks. Although labelled as a contagious and deadly disease with no known cure, the thought of the situation escalating to the point where countries needed to undergo lockdown seemed unbelievable. Rather, it sounded more like the plot of one of the dystopia novels I used to read during middle school. Though the Coronavirus situation was considerably worsening, I had never imagined it would bring my academic exchange to an early end.

By the start of the second week of March, the severity of Coronavirus had started to settle in everyone’s minds. Italy had just announced a nationwide lockdown, and with France’s proximity to it – along with Paris being one of the top tourist destinations, the thought of France becoming “the next Italy” lingered at the back of everyone’s minds. My campus-residing friends and I decided to hold off our visits to Paris in hopes that things would die down. And, breaks between our dinnertime conversations led back to talking about Coronavirus: what we read on the news and wondering if our countries would call us back.

Near the end of the week, it was announced that France would be going into lockdown and educational institutions were to close, effective at the start of the following week. Classes would be moved online for the foreseeable future, though there was hope that in-person lectures for the B5 bimester would resume by late April or May. Consequently, my exchange school had given us the option to self-quarantine and follow our B4 lectures from home for the rest of the week.

My classes that continued throughout the rest of that week were memorable for a number of reasons. For the first time, many of the seats in the classroom were empty, leaving the room feeling devoid of its typical lively atmosphere. Rather than turning to friends to talk about the party of the week, travel plans, what we were going to do when all of this was over, my peers’ conversations were tinged with sadness because this might have been the last time we saw each other. 

I vividly remember my Living and Working with the French professor regretfully saying that she had been looking forward to our final classes because we were going to learn about gastronomy and taste French cuisine. And I remember my Influencer Marketing professor awkwardly standing by his laptop, testing out different positions and distances from the microphone, trying his best to make himself heard as he taught through Google Hangouts to accommodate for those who weren’t present. It was different from how our sessions normally took place, but he managed to smoothly deliver his lecture to those online and those who were in class. These “last” classes were not how I expected to conclude the B4 bimester but at least I was able to see my professors and peers one more time and it gave us the chance to say goodbye; though it was discouraging that “stay safe” naturally followed our farewells.

With an uncertain future, I was unsure whether to stay in France (part of me was hoping that I could at least meet my B5 professors and classmates, even if it was for one or two classes) or to fly back to Canada. As such, I decided to go to the grocery store to stock up with enough food to last me the next few days. There, I was met with a shopping scene that looked like it had been cropped out of an apocalyptic movie. The pasta, bread, and canned food shelves had been cleared out, shopping carts were full – almost overflowing, the grocery store was crowded, and the checkout lines seemed to stretch forever. What made matters worse was that many people were coughing. As the seconds dragged on, I began to worry that I would catch whatever was making everybody cough; and the thought of standing in a long line surrounded by everyone, for only a few items, was very concerning so I just left.

Over the next few days, I started to receive communications from Global Affairs Canada encouraging those abroad to return to Canada; and from HEC Paris advising all exchange students to return home. Seeing as staying in France would no longer be a feasible option, I began searching for flights back to Toronto. The longer I browsed, the more worried I became. Available flights – especially the soonest ones, were filling up rapidly and disappearing before my eyes. As well, many of these flights, unfortunately, featured at least one layover, which would increase my chances of exposure to the virus and put me at risk of being stuck in another country if the connecting flight(s) were to suddenly get cancelled. As if things weren’t bad enough, prices had skyrocketed to the point where tickets cost $3000 to $6000. After finding the ideal flight date, layover, and price-wise and putting in my information, I received messages saying that the seats were no longer available – this happened twice! In the end, I managed to secure a flight to Toronto one week later (Saturday, March 21) and with only one layover. The day after I bought my ticket, Justin Trudeau urged Canadians to return home and closed the border, only permitting entry to citizens and permanent residents.  

To enforce social distancing, the campus restaurants closed off seating areas and began to offer take-out. However, by this point, I was cautious of everyone and everything. I did not want to leave my dorm every few hours to purchase take-out; as this would result in interacting with staff, potentially running into other residents in the hallway, and coming into contact with high-contact surfaces, such as doorknobs. As such, I decided it would be best to self-quarantine in the days leading up to my flight and returned to the grocery store to retry stocking up on food. This time around, there were few people – the complete opposite of the chaos that took place a few days before; although the aftermath of doomsday shopping was still visible. Most shelves were empty, except for posters containing the promise that more food will eventually arrive. The grocery store had also shifted to contactless payment and checkout areas displayed signs saying « CB uniquement, » which translates to “debit and credit card payments only.”

Unfortunately, the campus restaurants had to cease their activities and take-out options stopped in the first half of the following week.

It was also around this time that the French government started enforcing the Attestation de Déplacement Dérogatoire – a form one must sign and present to the police if asked why they were outside. Not carrying this form nor declaring a valid reason for being outside (e.g. exercising, purchasing necessities, aiding a vulnerable person, or returning to their home country) would result in a fine. Shortly after, I received another e-mail from Global Affairs Canada stating that airlines would be halting flights to Canada starting March 21 and March 22. I felt my heart sink when reading this message. This meant that my flight would be one of the last ones out of Paris and if it suddenly got cancelled, it could be months before I could return home.

In the days before my flight home, I packed and worked on assignments. However, with the looming anxiety of possibly being unable to return home, it was difficult to concentrate and I didn’t get much work done. I began utilizing my time to read the news and contact friends in similar situations, as a way of keeping up to date with the latest government actions. I created back-up plans ranging from my ability to arrive at the airport to last-minute flight cancellations. Questions circulated through my mind such as Jouy-en-Josas is located one hour away from Paris, would I be affected by a border closure between cities? What should I do if my taxi doesn’t arrive as scheduled, will a taxi be available at 5:00 or 6:00 am? Should I just book a hotel near CDG airport? All in all, I was literally up to Plan H and was still worried that things could go wrong.

I was in a race against time to arrive in Canada by the weekend though I felt powerless because the most I could do was restlessly wait for my Saturday flight. Worrying was inevitable, however, it would not change anything nor get me home sooner. I wanted time to stop so I wouldn’t have to deal with any more possible travel restrictions, yet I also wanted time to move faster so I could be one step closer to home. All I could do was hope for the best and that everything would work out in the end.

And everything did work out. There was a setback on Friday afternoon because my airline notified me that my flight got cancelled. Fortunately, they immediately followed up with a new, direct flight that would still take place on Saturday and even gave me credit for a future flight. In addition to that, my journey home was a lot smoother than anticipated. The roads and airport were empty, which made getting to the airport and going through check-in a fast process.

Looking back on it, my final days in France were a blur. Day after day, more and more travel restrictions were imposed with little warning. My story takes place over the course of ten days however, I still have a hard time believing that because it felt much longer and things had changed so rapidly. Against all odds – full flights, border closures, and sudden flight cancellations, I managed to make it to Canada in time. Though my story was not as climactic as the dystopia novels I used to read, I’m thankful it had a happy ending. And once a vaccine is developed, I look forward to using my flight credit to return to France.