Staying COVID-safe during My Wander

I’m heading out into the world at a time when everyone is probably safest never leaving the house. From a COVID perspective (and possibly from every other perspective too), things are going to get worse before they get better. At the same time, living out of a van that is entirely my own, and in which I’m mobile, feels pretty safe to me. After all, if you’re doing the right things, feeling safe is just that: a feeling. And that feeling of safety has a lot to do with how much control you feel like you have (as I laid out in my well-received piece on coping with COVID back in March, which is still relevant as ever: Coping with Coronavirus: The Human Side of this Crisis). All that’s to say that, having a space all to my own, which I can drive anywhere I want; that feels pretty safe to me. But let me go beyond the feelings.

Establishing boundaries (an anecdote)

One activity that will be part of my wander is WWOOFing, and I want to share a brief relevant experience I just had. I connected with some WWOOF hosts who own a small farm in rural Maryland. I was excited about them, because they are the only hosts in the US who mentioned anything about Burning Man on their profile. (How could I go wrong with burners? Side note: turns out they’ve never participated in any Burning Man events, but they just came across the 10 Principles, and they really resonated – which is great!) I spoke with these hosts for over an hour last week, and while there seemed to be a little bit of ideological mismatch, I decided it would be a good experience for me nonetheless.

That is, until we came to the COVID part of the conversation. They told me that in their area, they don’t know anyone who’s gotten sick (*eyebrow*); most people do not wear masks (*grimace*); and they don’t believe in living in fear (*second eyebrow*). They also said they take basic precautions like washing their hands. While I didn’t feel totally great about it, I decided to carry on and think more later. Well, I thought about it and sent them a message a few days later. I found that their county has almost twice as many cases per capita than NYC (where everyone wears masks), and their neighboring country in West Virginia has over 4x the number of cases per capita that NYC does.* Not great.

I shared with them those numbers, and I mentioned that rural America is getting hit hard. Since I would be staying in their home, I then made several requests. This included requesting that (1) everyone in the house wears masks in public, regardless of whether or not an establishment mandates it, and that (2) I be given advance notice of any guests coming to their home and that there be space for flexibility around people visiting. Seemed reasonable to me. Well, both these requests were effectively denied. The gentleman responded that (1) “I myself will only wear a mask when mandated” and (2) “We will give advance notice [of] any expected guests but there is no room for negotiation.”

That pretty much settles it for me: I’m going to pass on this opportunity. Not because I have any moral issue with them or their choices (I probably do have an issue; it’s just not the reason for my decision to move on), but because this poses a very real elevated risk to my well-being. Maybe it only bumps my risk of contracting COVID from 0.1% to 0.3% (just making that up), but I’d rather not accept that risk, since I have a choice in the matter, and many other farms I can visit.

My safety strategy

It’s evolving, but I have been staying very safe in NYC throughout this pandemic, and so I’ve developed a solid baseline. I have built a sink in my van for frequent hand-washing, and I have copious sanitizer. I have plenty of mask supplies. In terms of visiting people, it will need to be an open conversation about comfort levels and behaviors. The level of precaution taken by the folks above did not meet my threshold. Had they been more open to my requests, I probably would have been comfortable staying with them. If I were to visit someone in a different location, I might request that everyone gets tested, or have a conversation about behaviors since our last test. I am open to quarantining for a week or more, if needed. And I’m always happy to get tested in localities where testing is available.

But what makes me feel the most safe is open, honest, and kind communication about boundaries, approaches, and behaviors. (In fact, this applies for me in all areas of human interaction, not just COVID.) If we’re honest and find that we’re on the same page about what it means to stay safe and reduce risk to ourselves and our communities, then the minutiae of when everyone was tested, and what door handle we touched, and the last time we coughed isn’t as important. If, on the other hand, someone believes that taking low-effort precautions to protect the community means “living in fear,” then I’m pretty sure it won’t work out. (Wearing a seatbelt doesn’t mean I live in fear of dying in a crash; come on people. Also, being afraid isn’t the end of the world; people just disdain fear and other emotional experiences because of some hyper-masculine conceptions of “strength.”)

I’m confident that I can remain physically safe in this wander by using common-sense approaches to cutting down my actual risk. And by communicating clearly and honestly, and with my mobile home at the ready, I’m confident that I can feel safe in my wander, perhaps even safer than if I were staying in NYC.


*Maybe an epidemiologist can set the record straight, but I feel like per capita cases is a little misleading, because population density has to be a factor. If people live near each other, they are more likely to come into contact regularly and thus spread the virus faster. Lower density means fewer interactions in the same period of time. That said, cases are spreading in rural areas, so it’s probably more a matter of speed of spread (e.g., everyone gets infected when they go unmasked on their weekly grocery runs) rather than overall impact. And I have to believe that it’s still more dangerous to live in a low-density area where no one takes precautions than a high-density area where everyone does.

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