Exit day! Freedom!
7am: I sprung out of bed and did some last-minute packing.
I had so much energy I could barely contain myself.
My dear and hilarious friend Kimberley had shared with me a song on Spotify; “I want to break free” Queen.
“Happy Exit Day Song!”, she said in my DM’s.
I laughed to myself. You are wonderful Kimbo. Perfect song of the day!
I pressed play and got ready, belting along to the lyrics.
I had a shower, shaved my legs even, then dressed into the carefully chosen clothes that I had hung nicely in the closest the night before. Today was a very special day. I was walking into civilization again. Half of my face that had been covered since March 15th would be seen in public again. I wanted to dress accordingly.
I stopped for a second to take in this feeling.
This excitement to even get dressed in the morning. I have not felt this for a very long time. I felt alive.
Why was getting dressed in the morning not an event before the lock down? How did I take this for granted and become so blase?
Disappointed in myself, I decided I would do my best to keep this special feeling in my heart for as long as possible. Just walking down the street and seeing people’s faces can just go away. It did. It went away. Just being able to walk freely down the street and go into a coffee shop, sit down and do work and see people’s smiles, went away. Just being able to go to a friend’s house for dinner and wine and hug and laugh and dance went away. Just being able to see family, smell them, hug them, kiss them, that went away. Before March 15th, I didnt even think twice about getting dressed in the morning. I mean, there would be special occasions where I would take the time to decide what to wear and I wanted to look nice, but it wasn’t like this. Dressing like this is your first or last day on the planet.
Don’t get me wrong, My skin has definitely thanked me for the 4½ month break of no make up and I did quite enjoy living in onesies and slippers. But I was excited to dress properly today. I had somewhere to be and people to see! I put on my gold stud earrings, my nice suede jacket and heeled boots. I waved my hair and of course I carefully chose my favorite light pink lipstick. My lips would be seen. People will see me smiling at them.
I wonder if this is how my Nana felt when they would get dressed up to go to a dance during the War. Because life was not to be taken for granted and was to be celebrated and you never knew what was around the corner.
I picked up my phone to check the time and out of habit clicked onto my instagram. God, I have to delete this I thought. Just for a while. Just to have a break.
I mindlessly scrolled for a second.
New Post: Gov. Newsom’s instagram: As #covid19 cases and hospitalizations continue to rise, 30 counties will now be required to Close indoor operations for fitness centers, places of worship, offices for non-critical sectors, Personal care services, hair salons, barbershops, malls, indoor restaurants, bars and wineries.
I took a deep breath of relief. Thank goodness. It is bitter sweet but I was hoping this would happen. They opened everything way too early which has caused everything to go right back to the beginning. If they had just stayed shut down this wouldn’t have happened.
The week before I left LA I went for a walk through Franklin Village to pick up a pint of my favorite ice cream at Van Lewan. I couldn’t believe the crowds of people sitting outside Birds and La Poubelle. It was like a Black Mirror episode. People were NOT 6ft. apart and of course their masks were off the entire time because they were eating and drinking. It was really disturbing. “This is never going to go away here”, I thought to myself.
I decided to walk in the middle of the road to avoid walking through that many people. As I walked past I even heard three different people coughing at tables, loudly, for a very long time. I knew for a fact that Covid was heavily in our neighborhood so this was frightening.
I definitely feel for the restaurant owners. I have worked in hospitality on and off for a long time and I understand how hard it is to break even when there isn’t a pandemic. But you will not catch me eating out in LA until there’s a vaccine. Instead Brett and I supported our local favorite spots by ording to go and eating at our new date spot, our balcony, safe at home.
This was a strange and a bittersweet feeling. My excitement faded to guilt and sadness. The day I will be set free and be able to start socialising again and go out to cafes and do all the fun things I used to do, Is the day my second home, California, is shutting back down.
It truly breaks my heart what is happening in America. It’s absolutely devastating. The tension, the lack of leadership, the miscommunication, people giving up, tired, trying to keep going the best way they can. It’s all such a mess.
When I was there and living in it, like a lot of my American friends, I was overwhelmed with fear and rage. I was angry at the lack of leadership and I was angry at the silliness I was seeing around me.
I continued to scroll for a second.
New post: BERNIE SANDERS. Trump is finally wearing a mask. Too little too late. His refusal to develop national pandemic policy based on science has led to widespread confusion and cost us many thousands of lives. Trump has rejected science. In November, we must come together and reject Trump.
100%. I love you Bernie. Sexiest man alive.
Knock! knock! I checked my phone. 830am. I opened the door. “Hi Amy! I’m just coming to do your final health check and exit interview.”, the nurse said.
Yes, that’s right. I’m here in New Zealand about to leave managed isolation. Today is a joyous occasion. No worrying today, ok Amy?
Last night, I had received a note outside my door explaining the exit process in great detail. I was to stay in my room three hours prior to my confirmed departure time. I had told them this would be at 10am when they called to schedule a week ago. They wanted to avoid crowds in the foyer. It explained that I was too keep the confirmation slip from the nurse safe, but then it said ‘but if you lose it, no stress, just ask the nurse at the nurses station for another one before you leave’.
‘No stress’, I smiled as I read this.The kiwi nature of that sentence.
I read on.
‘Thank you for being so patient with us during this time, we wish you a safe and pleasant journey home’.
Patient with them? I thought. They have been absolutely incredible.
The nurse handed me the little confirmation slip. 37 degrees (celsius). No symptoms. She told me that I was to hand my slip into the navy on my way out with my exit paperwork.
950am. Mum would be here in just 10 minutes! I put my mask on and ran out into the foyer.
On the way out, I saw Te Atatu doing her health check rounds.
“Are you leaving today Amy?”
“Yes I am !!”
I waved my arms in the air and spun around, “Exit day!”
She laughed and she said it makes her so happy seeing everyone leaving. You all look so happy and excited.
“Thank you so much for everything’, I said to my new friend.
“Oh no worries, Amy. Have the best time with your family.”
“I will.”, I said, smiling at her from behind my mask.
I wanted to hug her. She has been so nice to talk to. So comforting and kind and friendly.
I walked into the reception to collect a trolley to put my bags on. I had gathered more items from all of my family visits so I had more than what I bought from the airport.
A nice man from the navy helped me wheel it back to my room. The phone rang.
I answered it excitedly ! “ HEllO!” I said
“Your ride is here Amy.”
“Coming!”, I yelled, hyperventilating.
Mum had checked in with security at the gate and would be driving through the parking lot to the front entrance of the hotel. She would have to wait inside her car.
I piled all my luggage on to the trolley as best I could. I actually, probably could have packed a little better but as you can probably tell by my scattered thoughts I was too excited and wasn’t thinking straight.
I pushed the heavy trolley through the hallway. It was harder than I thought. My large suitcase kept banging, side to side, into both walls. My dumbbells fell out of a plastic bag and rolled underneath the trolley, and my yoga mat rolled off the end and got stuck underneath the wheels. After what, felt like a lifetime, I finally wheeled it through to the front lobey. There was Mum in her car waiting for me out the front. She waved happily. I could see her mouthing “Amy! Amy!”
I handed Claudia my confirmation receipt and final exit paperwork and she handed me my Certificate of Completion.
‘This letter is a formal confirmation of your completed stay in managed isolation or quarantine. We thank you for doing your bit to beat COVID-19 by staying the course in one of our managed facilities. We hope that your stay has been comfortable and you have felt well supported.
We are pleased to confirm Amy Louise Waller has completed a 14-Day (336hours) isolation period in New Zealand and received a negative day 12 Covid-19 test result.’
Wow. So incredibly organized.
I said one last big thank you before pushing my trolley out through the door.
I ran to the car. I wanted to hug mum so bad but she wasn’t allowed to get out.
There was a security guard there to make sure of it but he also was kind enough to help me with my bags. We had trouble opening the boot (trunk) but eventually got there.
I shoved everything in as quickly as I could and said thank you to the nice man for helping me.
I opened the left-hand passenger door and jumped in the seat next to mum.
“Hi Mum! “ I said with tears in my eyes.
And we hugged. And there it was. Her samsara perfume. Her warm embrace. All the things I missed deeply at the airport. We squeezed each other tightly.
“Oh Amy, my darling girl,” Mum said. We both burst into tears.
Everything that I had been feeling since March 15th. All the fear and tension and worry. All of it came out. “I missed you Mum”, I said.
“You’ve done so well Amy.“, Mum said. ‘You’ve handled this all so well.’
We hugged for what felt like 5 minutes.
I looked up into the foyer of the hotel. There was Claudia and Brandon and the rest of the navy, the hotel staff and security all smiling. I could tell they were happy for us. I looked at them one last time. ‘Thank you for your help, and being so kind and for keeping us all safe’, I thought.
Mum said “Hey, shall we get a coffee and go for a walk?”
‘Umm Yes! ’ I said. In disbelief.
This feels insane.
We drove out of the hotel parking lot, past the security fences and into Greenlane. Into the world. Into New Zealand. Into my homeland. We drove along the motorway. I looked out of the left hand passenger door window.
Wow. Everyone is free here. I thought. Safe.
‘There’s Mt. Eden! ’ I said to mum ‘ look there’s New Market!”, “oh my god there’s Victoria Park Market’, ‘look there’s where I used to work Mum!” I looked at a playground, filled with children all tucked up, cozy in their warm winter jackets. Playing happily. Parents talking to each not having to worry about standing at a distance. All without masks.
I just couldn’t believe it. The difference in energy is unreal.
We parked the car at Three Lamps Plaza and got out.
Mum began to walk down the street, in front of the shops that were all open, operating again. I followed behind, feeling like I was having an out of body experience.
A woman walked past me and naturally I circled 6ft. around her to give her distance. She looked at me and smiled. Sensing my confusion. Oh that’s right. I don’t have to do that anymore.
I walked past another couple. The woman looked at me and she smiled. I think she could see the absolute wonder in my eyes. Like I was on another planet. I smiled back. And she could see it. My smile. My face.
Mum casually opened the door of the cafe we had decided to go to. Salta. One that used to be a regular spot to me. But this felt so different. Brand new. I floated behind, grabbing for my imaginary mask that I thought would still be around my neck, and then releasing it wasn’t and didn’t need to be.
This feeling was incredible. It’s really difficult to put into words. But it reminds me of that Black Mirror episode. San Junipero. Where the older women put a chip in the ear and go back to their favorite past time and place and its paradise. This feels like San Junipero but it’s not. This is my home, New Zealand. And it’s not the past. This is now in the world of Covid-19.
There were four two-top tables on either side of the cafe filled with people. Mostly older men and women, silver hair, in their woolen cardigans and thick black framed reading glasses. All relaxed, happy, enjoying their morning coffee and subconsciously, their safety.
Wow.
We ordered our coffee from a nice female kiwi barista. She was mask, gloves and screen free. She looked happy and relaxed going about her work day as per normal. Without that look of terror in her eyes that screams ‘save me’ like a lot of my friends who were forced to go back to work under such terrifying circumstances.
‘Umm….’ I said distractedly thinking about my friends in the service industry in LA.
‘Oh sorry, ah a long black please.’
“Have here or take away?”, she said warmly.
‘Oh definitely have here please’. I said. Mum and I looked at each other and giggled.
Mum sat down on a two top table that was placed closely in between two other tables. Each occupied by two men that looked similar reading the newspaper.
We sat down. I felt way too close to the people next to us. My sense of space has changed.
‘Mum.’, I whispered. ‘This is so strange. They feel so close.”
I wasn’t used to having people in such close proximity to me.
Mum laughed at me.
The barista bought us our coffee poured to perfection in delightful pottery. This is heaven. I thought.
The air around me felt thick, the sound of chatter and the coffee machine became muffled. I looked around at everyone living their normal life doing everyday things so comfortable and relaxed and happy. I saw mum, happily looking at the paper making polite conversation with the people next to us.
‘This is unbelievable’,I said to mum. ‘It feels like it never happened here.”
We drank our coffee and went for a walk.
Honestly all I wanted to do was walk around the street past people and not feel scared. I wanted to walk in and out of shops and restaurants and see peoples faces. Something that I used to take for granted.
I needed to go to the bathroom and there was the evidence.
A sign saying “Protect EACH OTHER from Covid-19. Please wash your hands for 20 seconds.”
Ok, yes, it was here. I mean I knew it was here, and if I arrived 6 weeks earlier I’m sure the feeling would be very different. But everyone had just done a fucking good job at shutting it down. The team of 5 million people worked together. They protected each other by not seeing each other. And it worked. It went away and we must do our best to keep it that way.
Mum and I continued on our ventures, we looked at the shops, went out for a late lunch, also incredibly surreal and then made our way up to Matakana to see my sisters and nieces.
I continued to feel like I was floating and in another world and circled around strangers by accident and to use a paper towel to touch things and open doors out of habit.
Walking around, I noticed that the streets were less busy than last time I was here and a lot of businesses had decreased their hours of operation and were closed, some had closed for good. Covid-19 did hit NZ and they are also feeling the deep after effects. Lots of job losses and businesses going under.
We got in the car, and drove North. Down Jervois Road, near the old house on Clifton Road that I lived in for a good 4 years.Then past Ponsonby Primary School where I taught performing arts to 5 year olds, over the harbour bridge, past Albany where I danced at so many Rugby games. Past Orewa where I also lived for two years, through the tunnel and finally into Matakana.
All of these places, so familiar, yet so estranged. Like I was looking at them with the same amount of love but with a new pair of eyes. I’m a completely different person then when I lived here. I thought to myself as we drove.
We had organised to meet my sister and nieces for a drink and early dinner at the Matakana Village pub. More eating out!
We had just arrived when I heard, “Amy! Amy!”
Three beautiful girls ran towards me. My niece, Ella, grabbed me and squeezed me extra extra tight. “Hi Auntie!”, she yelled. “Hi darling!”, I said. Tears coming back strong.
Sophie squeezed me tight too. “I knew you would cry Auntie!”, she said. Teasing me.
I knew I would too. The last few months have been a lot to process and all I have wanted to do was this.
And then finally my big beautiful caring sister. We squeezed each other tight and we both cried. All five of us Waller women in the middle of the doorway at the Matakana Pub, hugging and crying and laughing.
Absolute heaven. The best moment of my life. If only Catherine was also here.
We ordered a bottle of local Omaha Bay wine to celebrate us all being together and sat down and excitedly caught up.
“Does this feel so strange ?” my sister said. “To be out, It’s been since early March, right?”
I nodded. ‘Yeah, it really does. We are so so lucky.’, I said.
My beautiful friend Kimberly, who had been so supportive to me during these last two weeks of lock down met us with her two boys. We hugged and cried and enjoyed our wine and food, sitting here, dining in at this beautiful restaurant.
I took in the ambience, the locals at the bar watching Rugby on the telly, the family at a table next to us, the group of friends behind us. I looked around at our table and I watched this beautiful table of generous women laughing and conversing, hugging each other, squeezing my arm and I just couldn’t believe it.
I was ecstatic, so happy and grateful. So much love in my heart. But there was a part of that same heart that couldn’t help but still think about the rest of the world. America. My boyfriend. My friends. My family. All still fearful and on edge. I wished they could all be here. I wished they could experience this feeling that I felt. This feeling of feeling safe and looked after.
After a few more wines, more food, more laughs, more hugs, we went back to my sister’s house and hung out and reminisced. Eventually the wonderful day was over and I got ready for bed. What a day. I was tired. Exhausted. I wasn’t used to interacting with people. I felt like I did more today than I did in the whole year. But I was calm and most importantly happy. I lay into bed and I looked at the ceiling. I took a deep, relaxed breath and smiled to myself. Home Amy. You are Home.
“ Even when it’s more real than you want it to be. Your story is what you have, what you will always have, it is something to own.” – Michelle Obama, Becoming.
Dance party song of the day – “I Want to Break Free” – Bohemian Rhapsody. Queen.
