Let’s not throw the baby out with the bathwater

In our rush to get back to what was considered normal in a pre-COVID-19 world, I’m concerned that we might be “throwing the baby out with the bathwater”.

Where there is, of course, a great need to do away with restrictions so that we can rebuild our economy, relationships, and get on with things, it might be worth considering if perhaps we might want to consider holding on to some elements of the restrictions.

Like the Friday night curfew. And perhaps the requirement for that extra space between people and their neighbour in shul. But Friday night curfew, for certain.

There was a simplicity to life in the days, or rather nights, when curfew was imposed. For a short time, Shabbat meals started promptly, and there was no danger of having to consider eating one’s own arm just to stay alive while waiting for guests to walk to Glenhazel from Morningside. Or for the final salad to be made just as people are about to pass out from starvation.

That was also a time before curfew when one couldn’t feel confident that the meal would end before midnight. I recall, with some embarrassment, occasions when in desperation and panic, tears streaming down my cheeks, I found myself begging our host to end the meal before I took my own life with the help of a dessert spoon just so that I could rest.

The meal would invariably and uncomfortably hurry towards conclusion and in no time at all, we would find ourselves on the pavement with assurances that we should do this again sometime. Soon.

The walk home on those evenings was never pleasant as I endured lecture after lecture on the appalling nature of my behaviour. But we were on our way home.

There are other aspects of lockdown that might be worth considering holding on to. Social distancing in shopping malls, extra space in shul, and the need to hug people that you don’t want to hug. It’s all good and well when both parties are close and are in a hugging relationship, but the awkwardness around hugging uncertainty isn’t something I have missed at all over the past few years. It would be a great pity for that to become a concern again.

Masks, on the other hand, need to go. The longer we wear them, the deafer I find myself. More and more, I catch myself leaning forward and pulling down my own mask when trying to hear what someone with a covered mouth is saying.

It makes no sense, but I’m convinced that COVID-19 or lack of listening practice has contributed to the fact that I currently hear about 30% of what people are saying. As a consequence, I have taken to filling in the gaps of the missing 70%, which has made people a lot more interesting than they used to be. You wouldn’t believe some of the things that they didn’t say.

There is little doubt that we’re ready to move on. COVID-19 in South Africa is very last year. But like every good fad, it might be worth holding on to a few of the gains before trashing them with the losses.