Why corona shatters friendships

Corona belongs to all of us and affects us all. I believe that was the only nice thing about 2020: that we were all in the same boat. It was a year for everyone around the world that we will never, but would most like to forget. Corona does not circle around the high-ranking: even Boris Johnson, Donald Trump, and Charles and Camilla simply got corona.

But corona also polarizes. That started with the people who take the virus seriously and adhere to the RIVM rules and the Estelletjes and Lilletjes of this world who celebrate life together on a yacht far from here. Then came the ’to vax or not to vax’ discussion that sometimes led to physical wonders, where steam could be seen coming out of everyone's ears. (By the way, I have written about why, in my opinion, you should dare to take that vaccine.) Now there is the phenomenon of the curfew, which tears and fragments. I must say it doesn't bother me much. I am obediently not meeting up (I do that outside: I walk or run with friends) and I have my family around me. It’s also not like those bleak January evenings have a drawing effect on me, so if I have to sit by the fireplace on ‘government order’ with The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills on my laptop and meanwhile be a nanoswitch in combating the virus, fine with me.

So too my friend F, whose husband supplies wine to top restaurants. Bring on that curfew, the sooner the hospitality industry can reopen and entrepreneurs can earn a bit of money again. I feel her. But then there is our nanny. Single, with her only outing for months being cozy drinks with her sister and another friend on Saturday and Sunday. ‘I see NO ONE else, NO ONE.’ If that is also taken away from her, she really doesn't know where to find joy anymore. And I understand that very well. I would prefer Mark Rutte to make an exception for people like our nanny, who so obediently follows the rules but would really like to have a drink on Saturday night with her regular corona triangle, because ultimately that curfew is mainly for the Lilletjes, I might say.

Oh, I do not envy Mark Rutte and Hugo de Jonge. Meanwhile, I sit on my bench under that blanket, waiting for the storm and corona to pass.