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Burst that “safe” bubble of family and friends

Image by Rudy and Peter Skitterians from Pixabay

“It’s Christmas time,” Band Aid sang for Africa back in 1984, “and there’s no need to be afraid.” Thirty-six years later, as South Africans ready themselves for a 2020 festive season like no other, they know that there is a need to be afraid, very afraid.

They know what is waiting for them, hiding in the shadows, coming from the most unexpected of places and when they are least expecting it.

The kiss. The slobbery, on-the-lip, festive-season smacker from the aunty with the bristles and the bad breath who has been hitting the sherry a little harder than they should. It is a kiss that feels like it has been a year in the making and a year in the dreading. It is a kiss that leaves you wanting to wipe your lips, brush your teeth and question your family tree.

But, this year, South Africans are ready for it. They have been preparing for the kiss since South Africa went into the pandemic-enforced lockdown. They are in the social distance form of their lives. They have masks. They have been training in the virus-safe space of the great outdoors. They have their anti-aunty-kiss protocols in place.

This festive season, South Africans are ready to sidestep that kiss like Cheslin Kolbe going around Owen Farrell for that glorious final try for the Springboks in the 2019 Rugby World Cup final when they beat England. At last, a silver lining in the time of Coronavirus.

This will be a holiday season like no other. On the one hand, the pandemic has seen South Africans discover a more intense sense of ubuntu and caring for each other. They have been together even though they have been apart. Now, many will come together with their families and friends, knowing that when they do so, they must still stay safely apart. Care for others like you care for yourself. Don’t be a mampara.

There will be many, many awkward moments as South Africans navigate the holiday season safely, some of them deliciously funny and some inducing a level of uncomfortable silence not seen since Julius Caesar asked, “Et tu, Brute?” How should we steer through social gatherings, what is the safest method when attending church, funerals and weddings, how must we behave when travelling with friends, on public transport and across provincial borders?

Like the Mask-ateers, er, sorry, Musketeers in the novel by Andre Dumas, there are three essential behaviours. Wear a mask properly. Practice social distancing. Avoid large indoor gatherings that could be super-spreader events. The how you do this is the thing, and this is where it gets entertaining.

In the time of the pandemic, being rude is the new polite. All those things you have wanted to say or ask, are now essential for your safety.

So, when that aunty or uncle comes in for a Christmas or New Year kiss and hug, it is okay to say, “It’s not you, it’s me.”

If you are invited to a party, it is now okay to ask the host, “Who is going to be there?” That was once felt to be snobby as if you were checking to see if the cool kids were going to be there. But, as etiquette coach William Hanson, who hosts of a podcast called “Help I Sexted My Boss”, told the Guardian on pandemic manners: “There was an awful tendency, before all this, to respond to an invitation with: ‘Who else is going to be there?’. Now it is permissible, even healthy, to ask that. But you may still want to disguise the question, so if you’re bringing a cake or a homemade cordial, say: ‘Let me know how many it will be for.’ ”

That way you know how many are going to be at the gathering and whether the others are those who have been adhering to pandemic protocols. Also, you get to know if there will be cool people, because if you are going to go to a party, you don’t want to be with the Donald Trumps of this world. And, when it comes to turning down an invite, say, simply, “I’m not ready for that yet.”

Social distancing at gatherings is a tricky thing because it is unsocial distancing. Perhaps we should just call it physical distancing. There are some people you wouldn’t mind social distancing the heck out of. The first thing is to make sure it is outdoors. You need space for your Cheslin Kolbe move.

Then build your very own bio-bubble. This land is my land. That land is your land. There will be no “mind the gap” signs on the floor to know your safe distance. After a few drinks, inhibitions ease and standards slip. If someone gets too close, start talking about how the rest of the world has been having fun with physical distance information signs.

In Australia’s Northern Territory, they recommend you stand the length of one saltwater crocodile apart. At the University of Sydney, the proper distance is four koala bears. In Japan, it is two metres, or one big tuna, or a bicycle, or the two middle Beatles on the Abbey Road album cover.

For South Africans, safety could be ensured by the length of four or five serious Gatsbys lined up end to end. Or, perhaps, the three Rugby World Cup trophies the Boks have won. Or, if that doesn’t work, download the song “Don’t stand so close to me” by The Police on your phone and hit it when you are uncomfortable. Make it fun, make it light, but make it right.

Travelling is fun, but problematic, particularly when on public transport, but there are some fixes. Roll down the windows. Let the air flow. If someone says they want the windows up, say that there is a funny smell in the vehicle and then stare knowingly at any person as if it has come from them. Keep mumbling, “Did someone eat a lot of garlic?” during the journey.

Masks have become cool. Not Lone Ranger or Batman cool, but your standard fashion item. They are your armour against the pandemic, the most essential of apparel. Coronavirus is airborne, seeking to get into your lungs to wreak havoc. Keep two in your car, at your front door, beside the flat keys, in your handbag, in your pocket. Buy cool ones. Buy funny ones. Get some made with a picture of the bottom half of your face on them. They will be a part of life for some time yet.

Wear them the way they were designed. The Sunderland City Council in the United Kingdom advised their residents to treat their masks like their underwear. The advice is perfect. Make sure it’s the right way round. Make sure it is tight, but comfortable. Don’t borrow one from friends or give yours to them. Don’t touch or fuss with it, especially in public.

It’s Christmas time and there’s no need to be afraid, South Africa. It has been a year like no other with a threat that requires all to be vigilant and to fight using three basic behaviours. Mask up, social distance, don’t attend large events. This way, all of us will be safe from the aunty’s kiss…and Coronavirus. #UnityInAction. DM

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