Let them all tell you what happened - Mercedes Pescador

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      Just the beginning

      Ekaterina Shapovalova

      Moscow, Russia

      I am writing this note with mixed feelings inside. For me personally as a professional coach, consultant and lecturer, the crisis opened many new possibilities and provided a secure space for experiment, where the right for mistake is granted with acceptance. Having faced substantial external limitations people and myself are facing inwards to find and accept their personal limitations, vulnerabilities and imperfection, which in turn is the first and most important step to creativity, growth and professional integrity. I feel it like this since my profession and my passion is around the issue of change.

      But I look outside of my window and imagine lives of many other people in Russia, who’s passion is stability, conservation in the survival mode. And I am scared to think of what social consequences this crisis will have for the majority of people who are losing jobs, struggling making means for living. For me as a Russian citizen the corona-crisis looks like the tiny first step into a wider and deeper social and political crisis in our country, where the need for change was long ignored and covered with propaganda of stability and total control. We are now at the doorway of major disillusionment and disappointment in our system that will follow and I am scared to forecast what will it take for people to overcome this…apathy, rage, revenge…?

      And if I move further to the global context, I also see this crisis as a big test for humanity in accepting its limitations, its non-omnipotence, its vulnerability. But as well as a kind of trial of the distant or not so distant future where virtual will replace more and more the physical, but as we see it now, it will never replace it fully. We now all feel how much we need true human contact.

      If this doesn’t beat me, nothing will

      Juan Miguel Fernández Linde

      Madrid, Spain

      Factory worker

      Without freedom: that’s the best way to describe this moment.

      I’m not in favour of going with the opinion of others, or with the majority, I always use logic and common sense to everything that happens to me, but this time I made the mistake of letting myself be influenced by the media which, far from putting the population at ease, they enjoy making us suffer in a rather morbid way. Spain is, once again, at the back of the queue in regards to coherence and logic. We live in a state of emergency and this has made me be more selfish.

      As I cannot leave the house, I don’t watch television (except for series), but it is inevitable to think of the families what won’t be able to deal with this, in my own family…, but I quickly return to my selfishness and I put that thought to a side. I think they have created this, yes, they’ve created it to wipe clean the planet of the people who are not useful for production and also, once they’re at it, generate a feeling of hate among us.

      And in the middle of this situation, I start to value the people I have, or had, on my side before this happened, thinking that mankind is the worst species of this planet, greedy and jealous by nature. I realised that the few people that are by your side, by own accord, are the greatest treasure we could have.

      I get many things clear from this situation, and I try to stay positive, I, one of the most realist people you could find… But I understand that if this doesn’t beat me, nothing will.

      By the way, I had to spend the quarantine alone in my house. Some say they would go mad, but I brought out in myself the strength of a lion wishing to survive.

      Captain’s log book

      Javier Santiago Soria

      Madrid, Spain

      March 26th, Day of Our Lord, 2020. Eleventh day of confinement on the ship Our Lady of Literature.

      The crew’s mood alters during the course of each day. You can tell that they are not guys used to this type of journey. They are not demoralised yet, but they are worried, uncertain about how many days are left until they can put their feet on the ground.

      The oceans of information we’re sailing through, are unknown. When we set sail, there were talks about it being only for two weeks, although I think not even our commanders trusted that prediction. For sure the lack of government on the ship is the most pressing problem. The history of Spain repeats, a great country dreadfully ruled.

      We get news from other expeditions which with different perspectives. The most terrible ones are those which have sank, and we also know about others which are going through terrible difficulties. It’s specially worrying the fact that there are not enough shipyards to fix certain damages, and they say the lack of materials can even force them to choose which ships continue their course and which don’t. It’s terrific to think that our destiny is in the hands of people who are more interested in saving their own backsides than looking for solutions.

      Each day, on the eighth evening hour, we can hear how other ships cheer the shipyard technicians who are fighting against adversities with such few resources. On our ship, we try on the first day, in hope, but when we stick our heads to starboard we discover in despair that the rest of the ships had a route in the direction out at sea, but our route, no matter how much we advance, it’s always towards the cliffs.

      We fight against monotony trying to keep as active as possible, considering the limitation of our resources. That’s why we force our imagination to use fantasy and oneiric resources to make up for the lack of other realities. Physical exercise is repetitive but necessary, and reading turns out difficult at times, as it’s hard to concentrate our minds in the narrator’s story while our heads are filled with dark clouds. It’s complicated not to have our minds on the hard future ahead once we disembark. Maybe it’s wiser not to think too much about that matter during the sleepless nights: the important thing is to reach port, and about tomorrow only God knows.

      This insignificant Captain hopes to have managed to reflect his reality in this log book. If other captains were so kind as to share their thoughts, it would be comforting, for sure. After all, to know that we are all in similar adventures allows us to look into the future with optimism and smile with the perspective of a happy ending for the majority of the expeditions.

      Commended to the Virgins of Carmen and Guadalupe, Captain Javier Santiago, nicknamed “the one with the clear forehead” bids farewell.

      In the East of Argentina, my city of Resistencia

      Ester Noemí Salomón

      Resistencia, Chaco province, Argentina

      In the hot summer in the city, while I was taking care of my sixty hours a week work, I was looking to and fro, searching for the female mosquito spreading dengue which is keeping us on tenterhooks, it was my great concern health wise! Something changed this March while it was giving way to an unusual Autumn, the season was beginning without the shop windows displaying the new trends for the coming chilly weather. The buzz of devastation was coming from afar.

      We watched television terrified and in disbelief, it was showing a horror movie with a small virus in the leading role, a lot smaller that our winged mosquito. Soon after the legal rulings arrived for all of us to lock ourselves in our homes to protect ourselves from the voracious pandemic. Then, every human being understood how brittle their case that contains them is.

      The mandatory quarantine meant that we had to know and accept the feared “I”. Self-knowledge emerged in the first hours when we had to walk the path of loneliness in our own place, and we found out how much we needed external incentives like going out for a coffee or for dinners with family and friends.

      At home, hundreds of books were waiting for us to show up, and we knew from the very first instant that the word boredom wouldn’t exist in our dictionary.

      Uncertain

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