A Canadian Quarantine — Day 9
Only in Canada
I’m impressed. Bravo, Canada, for how you’re handling the Pandemic when it comes to travelers. While half the US wrestles with whether scientists actually know anything, Canada has found a way to treat the Pandemic seriously while treating the people with respect.
Canada isn’t the only country imposing a 14 day quarantine on everyone coming into the country. But the policies and processes that are in place are scientifically sound and socially humane.
It begins with who can enter the country. For healthcare capacity reasons, it includes essential healthcare workers. For obvious economic reasons, truck drivers are allowed in. For nothing other than a humane and nuanced view of the foundation of our social fabric, immediate family members coming to help family are allowed. Tourists will have to wait.
Then there’s the process that is efficiently and consistently implemented, starting with ticket agents at the departing airport. They asked us the same questions that the border patrol person asked: “Why are you traveling? Who are you seeing?”, followed by showing them the documentation that backs up our assertion that our daughter, a Canadian Permanent Resident, is in fact, our daughter. The mysterious Canadian policy of retaining a woman’s pre-married family name on official documents finally made some sense, as it was even easier for the ticketing agent to match her (former) last name to ours.
Air Canada gets high marks, too, for taking things seriously — mostly. The boarding area included “spacers” between seats so as to not crowd together everyone waiting in chairs; social distance markers lead up to the boarding gate, and temperatures were taken. Everyone HAD to wear a mask (yes, your children over 2 years old are not optional), and everyone received a ziplock bag full of cleanliness essentials. The kit included disposable gloves, a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer, earbuds sealed in a tiny bag of their own, and a note from Air Canada’s Chief Medical Officer — as well as another note from your friends at the Federal Government. A tiny bag of pretzels was a stark reminder that there would be no food service (though we did notice business class getting real food, albeit pre-packaged). While we only wish they had continued the “no middle seat” policy, the flights were empty enough to make some room.
The government has also created an app to make the border interrogation faster. In addition to being asked all the questions that the ticket agent asked, we were handed a rather large sheet of paper with all the rules about how to quarantine — and a stern warning that the fine for not complying could be as high as $1M and 5 years in prison. It’s still not clear what egregious act would lead to the maximum fine — but suffice it to say that the $1000 first offense fine got my attention as well.
Yes, this is a real quarantine: No visitors and no leaving the premises, so you need a plan for getting food. We are relying on items dropped on our second story balcony by Uber Eats, and given the vast array of wonderful restaurants in Montreal, it’s a perfect arrangement — made more perfect by Daughter Deliveries (we don’t come out to the balcony until the deliverer is back down on the sidewalk. We can wave, but we cannot hug.
As promised, the government calls to chat and check on us. Yes, a real person says hello, and with a unique combination of sternness and Canadian warmth, asks how we’re doing — and equally important, what we’re doing. “How did you get from the airport?” (Private Limo) “Did you make any stops?” (No) “How are you getting food and medicine?” (Uber Eats and drop-offs by our daughter) “Are you getting any fresh air?” (Ah! A carefully worded question to make sure you’re not going for walks! Our “balcony only” answer passes) — followed by all the symptom questions. We’re told we’ll be called at least three times, and they will call back until you pick up the phone! So, I’ve added their phone number to my contacts so I’ll know it’s the Canadian Quarantine Compliance team calling.
We also get a daily email reminding us what to do, and inviting us to report our symptoms. With polite consideration that is rare among countries these days, it’s optional to report your symptoms daily. “This is completely voluntary and there are no consequences if you choose not to submit this information; however, symptom information will be used to support public health compliance follow-up.” How lovely. Thanks, Canada, for striking a perfect balance. Just because you asked so nicely, I think I’ll answer the questionnaire a couple of times.
Seven days (half-way) into our quarantine, I received the nicest robo-call I’ve ever received. Paraphrased, “Congratulations, you’ve made it through your first 7 days of quarantine; we’re calling to remind you that the next 7 days are just as important as the first 7 days…” They even carefully selected the person to make the recording, someone with a calm and “welcome to Canada” kind of voice. If this was the US, and if the US got smart enough to do likewise, the recorded voice would likely be that same idiot that makes unsolicited sales calls to convince you that they have the best solar energy deal of the century.
So as we count down the days until we can get some ACTUAL fresh air and hug those we love, we look forward to the kind voice on the phone asking if we’re being compliant. Maybe I should invite them over for a socially-distant coffee after our quarantine period is over, just to say thanks for treating us like human beings…
