The Covid Connection
An Ethnography of Mount-Royal park ~ October 23rd, 2020 at 5:15 pm EST
Upon my arrival at Mount-Royal park, vivid blue skies and the balmy sun glared at the smooth grass. I was by myself with a notebook and my phone, using the park’s public Wi-Fi to update applications since Wi-Fi at home was laggy. The park, situated in the heart of the Plateau was thronged with people, from strangers, families, children, and students. Some sat, some played sports, some talked with people while harmonizing the weather. Even animals such as dogs and squirrels chased nearby. The breeze whiffed of fresh grass.
As I was looking for a spot to sit down, many people connected physically with their loved ones during the pandemic. Giggles, chatters, drinking, eating in groups or solitude; I wondered about the impersonal connections. I questioned whether people realize we are in pandemic red-zone crisis, or if they care about their health and safety.
I finally sat. The sod, moist; not dry or miry. In front of me is a wide green grassy field spacious as The Sound of Music. Further down is a shielded, wide sandy diamond-shaped baseball field, surrounded by a short cold barrier. Behind me are the 97-bus station and concrete road — good for jogging. On the left side of the field, is a newly built tennis court encompassing metal fences. To my left, there is a tall bark tree that shades over me. Far-right are colourful trees — ranging from green, red, orange, and yellow leaves dropping swiftly. Those colours shout Starbuck’s pumpkin spice latte. Another bus stop bench situated there. A metal fountain water and overflowed rusty trashcan was nearby. Loud cars passed by during traffic hours on a Friday afternoon and bicycles roamed around the city.
As I jot down the details, a couple settled down close to me. Not intimate close, but near that I can notice. Ants crawled. It looked like the couple were having a picnic, because the guy set up a turquoise picnic blanket. I observed a green glass bottle of wine and two wine glasses in between them. What I envy of them is social intimacy — not social distancing. Social intimacy is pivotal in times of distress. Wanting someone whom I can share my thoughts with is what I need.
The general race of the park was multicultural. The focus is a couple, of a man and a woman wearing long-sleeved clothing — dressed weather appropriate. The pale woman with her luscious dirty-blonde hair wore a light pink knitted sweater and tight jeans. Her man, pale skin, full-on dark beard, wore a navy-blue cardigan sweater and jeans. Their eyes twinkled — drawn into each other. Starstruck with love. Wine glasses clink as the woman beamed with felicity.
Behind the man was groups of children giggling and sprinting around. Due to COVID, everyone is confronted with obstacles. I miss those interpersonal in-person interactions. Unfortunately, I cannot encounter the McGill experience. While online schooling is already arduous; missing out the experience is discouraging.
Around dusk, a gust of chilly air smelled skunk Marijuana. The once blue sky is now a hue of pink and grey. People departed as the park was dimming darker. My arms shivered as I zipped tight my jacket. The man in front of me stood, holding his hands out. I assumed he told his woman to wait, as he darted to pick up takeout food. The woman waited patiently as she posed her arm out for a selfie.
A few minutes later, the man ran back with takeout. Once the takeout was opened, I scented home. Plastic utensils stayed on the mat. I smelled Vietnamese Pho. The pungent chicken broth odour grumbled my stomach. As the woman carefully opened her meal delicately boxed in plastic, she lifted the sticky spring roll into her mouth. Salad munched. The woman is having a date with her man based on the picnic setup — after being confined for COVID. How romantic.
While the woman chewed, I saw both the man and woman looked fixedly drawn into each other. The dingy park set a romantic mood. A shining crescent revealed. I pondered whether I am ready for a relationship. Do I need a certain someone in my life? While people are thankful for being sheltered, protecting themselves from COVID — others feel the need to connect. After the pandemic is over, our ability to seek comfort and aid from physical connections would be appreciative. We would be thankful to see our loved ones again.
Ravenous, I glanced at my dimmed-glass screen. It was past 6:20 PM that I had to depart. Tennis court lights flashed. Pitch overcast chilly skies. Fingers trembling, autumn is here. I left as the couple was about to finish their dinner. I puzzled what is next.
