It’s been 14 days of living in this tiny hotel room all alone. I don’t mind the room, I’ve always preferred smaller, cozier spaces than large spacious ones, the only thing it’s missing is a window that opens. There’s a window with a view of Sydney’s tall skyscrapers, but unfortunately it’s locked shut. To my understanding, I’ve never had COVID-19 and have been tested 4 times now with 4 negative results. Tonight I get to leave my hotel room and breathe fresh air for the first time in 2 weeks, and the first thing i’m going to do is hug my parents and little sister. I haven’t seen them for exactly 25 months. When I left Australia in July 2019 to embark on my life abroad adventure to Portugal, I would never have imagined that we would be apart for that long. But as we know, the pandemic had other plans for all of us, and so you can imagine how long I’ve anticipated this moment for.
Australia’s mandatory 14-day hotel quarantine experience has been an extremely controversial topic within Australia. Outside Australia, I know there are only a handful of countries who are doing the same process with incoming passengers, while most others are allowing people to self-isolate in their own home. When I was living in Portugal, up until 2 weeks ago, most people that I spoke to were kind of shocked when I told them that I, as a returning citizen, had to pay AUD$3,000 to self-isolate for 14 days in a designated hotel upon arrival, even if I had tested negative when I arrived. I’m not going to lie, it has been tough. I can’t even begin to imagine how it’s been for people who are claustrophobic or really struggle being alone. Without my family, boyfriend and friends keeping in constant contact with me through social networking platforms, I most likely would’ve seen my mental health spiral into a really dark place.
Now I’m not here to attack Australia’s mandatory hotel quarantine system, because although I do disagree with it and think that after 1.5 years of this they could’ve figured out a better way, I’m sure it has saved a lot of lives from COVID-19, and I can’t ignore that. I am grateful to be in Australia after having tried to secure a flight here for so long because I know there are still thousands out there who can’t secure a flight. But I’m mad that I had to spend every last bit of my savings to do it. I’m also grateful to be safe and healthy and looked after by nice people. The hotel staff have been so lovely this entire time, and have tried to make this time as good as can be. Sometimes it’s hard not to laugh though, yesterday I received a flyer with instructions on how to leave the hotel on Day 14, and it also said “Most of all we thank you for being a part of the solution in helping make Australia safe during these unprecedented times of COVID-19. You are considered heroes to us”. I don’t know why I found that funny, I just did.
It’s been a weird experience to put it briefly. Each day, three times a day, I get a knock on my door to signify that my breakfast, lunch or dinner is here. I must then wait at least 30 seconds before opening the door and collecting the brown paper bag that contains the meal. At the end of the day, I put a trash bag filled with empty plastic food containers outside my door to be collected. At the start I felt like a prisoner, or worse, an animal, whose main concerns were being fed. If you require more toilet paper or hand soap, you call reception and they leave it at your door. I’ve not seen another human being in this hotel besides the nurse and the security guard who sits about 20 metres away from my room in the middle of the hallway, 24 hours a day. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I just ran across the hallway, but then I remember that this is no joking matter.
I never imagined that I’d experience something so bizzare in my life. Sometimes I catch myself in the hotel mirror and think that one day I’ll tell my children about this strange experience and they will probably find it so fascinating. Trying to find the silver lining has been what has helped me get through the days, and there have been a few. Here is something I’ve been thinking about a lot during this time:
Distractions can often feel like addictions, helping us escape our own thoughts. After days of distracting through every means possible, I felt drained from trying so hard to run away from myself. I remember the evening where I just surrendered and let myself cry and feel all of the feelings. It was hard, and it still is hard, to sit in silence with yourself and not have anyone around to fill the silence. I am no stranger to being in solitude, but usually those moments of solitude in the past were deliberate and chosen by me. In the past I would decide that my mind and heart were tired from people and busyness and I would pick out a morning or day to give myself alone time. In that time I would usually reflect on how I was feeling, and participate in some kind of soul-nourishing activity like journaling, meditating, swimming in the ocean, yoga, massage or reading in the park. But when you don’t have a choice in the matter, and you are forced to sit in a small room with no where to go, no one to talk to (that is face to face) and when distracting yourself with Netflix, Instagram, TikTok and work reaches its limit, that’s when we must face ourselves. In all our pain and all our glory. I’m grateful for those times during this quarantine where I had no choice but to face myself. Or as Pema Chödrön calls it, to face the “hot loneliness”. Today I find it that little bit easier to sit with myself, even when it’s hard.
ANGELICA G WRITES 
Leave a comment