Social Distancing In Rural America: Notes From An Iowa Farm

Social distancing is a term we have all come to know in the year 2020. While I watch the world adjust to this new lifestyle, I reflect on how this is nothing new to me. I have lived on a farm in Iowa all of my life. A lot of the adjustments that I am seeing my friends have to make are things that I’m already accustomed to.

I learned at a young age that I had to create many opportunities myself. It’s fascinating that decades later, people of all ages are realizing that they have to create these types of opportunities.

Family is all around where I live. And even as the definition of home in my area has changed as family farms are no longer what they once were, social distancing is not easy when you all rely on each other for so many things. Still, in this time of distress, those of us in rural America understand that we need to practice social distancing, just as everyone else is.

In rural America, we are used to not seeing other people for days at a time if we choose. We have learned through the years to be smart with our trips to town to save a little money on gas. Once weekly or even semimonthly grocery trips are somewhat normal, as we tend to purchase things in larger quantities. In my household, dining out is something that we often do as a family, typically once or twice a week. We cook a lot of our own food but enjoy supporting local restaurants when we do go out to eat.

It’s not uncommon to find many of us in rural America out walking the dirt roads with our pets tagging along. Our farm cats have always loved a daily stroll to the train tracks and back. In the country, we don’t talk about city blocks; instead, we tend to use directions or landmarks. Our daily exercise is right out our front doors — when the weather permits. We do not find ourselves surrounded by others when we head out, which makes social distancing very easy to practice.

When the weather does not cooperate, we have gotten really good about hunkering down in our homes. We break out a puzzle or two and it’s fairly common to find a board game set up in the living room. So while this is our reality, social distancing is obviously not an idea I had thought about until recently. Throughout the years, I have learned that it’s okay to stay home when I’m not traveling. I will admit it: Being forced to stay home makes things look a little different, but I am adjusting rather well.

Here in rural America, many of us know how to repair a washing machine, fix a flat tire, change out a spark plug, and even replace a motor in a vehicle. I have yet to meet a farmer who is not a jack-of-all-trades. Farmers are experts when it comes to fixing problems and learning by doing. Social distancing may be a challenge at times, but for many of the day-to-day things, we have learned how to be self-reliant over the years.

Rural America is a great place to raise animals. We love the pigs, cows, horses, and chickens that we and our extended family have raised through the years. 4-H kids everywhere are rejoicing in this social distancing, treating it as an opportunity that has been presented to them. As a 10-year 4-H member, back in the day, I would have loved a break from school a few months before the county fair. It takes time to train a cow for the show ring, and it takes a lot of patience to groom a chicken. These are all things that make rural America a fun place to be.

The crops will be planted soon and our gravel road will be busy with tractors. The corn and soybeans will know no different as they will grow just as they have in previous years. Farmers everywhere will drive their utility vehicles or trucks through the fields to check on the progress of these crops. They have done this alone or with a close relative for years, and this year will be no different.

Social distancing will not be an issue when it comes time to harvest, either. When August rolls around, it’s a treat to walk across the yard to the cornfield. Several rows of sweet corn will have been planted, and I’ll literally be able to pick sweet corn to toss in a kettle for supper, whether social distancing is still in effect or not.

There is minimal traffic in our area. When I see more than four cars drive by my house on any given day, I have to wonder what has happened. This is just one reason bike riding is a popular pastime. Here, we hop on our mountain bikes and take to the gravel roads. Family members of all ages can walk and bike safely, and in relative solitude, without worrying about traffic or encountering a lot of people.

All of those years of bean walking and rock picking taught me a lot, and for that I am grateful. I am thankful that I grew up on an Iowa farm and still have the opportunity to live in rural America. While many of my friends were socializing at the local swimming pool, I was out pulling weeds in a bean field. Today, kids, whether they’re in the country or not, have an opportunity to work on new skills and learn that there is always something to do.

Road trips have never looked better. Here in rural America, we can hop in our cars and take a drive around the section. Depending on the weather, we may come upon a tractor jam. The views of the wide-open road are something that I have appreciated for many years, and even as people coast to coast commit to distancing themselves physically, I’m thankful that I can share my views and insights with the world through social media.

For more COVID-19 insights and inspiration from other TravelAwaits writers, see our most recently published COVID-19-specific content here.

It was looking to be a full but typical year of travel. Spring and fall are the busiest times for a travel writer, and headed into the year, 2020 seemed to be no exception.

Plans were set for spring travel to California in early March, Virginia in April, Alabama in May, a visit to Erie, Pennsylvania, followed by a train ride to Toronto in June, and a dream trip — a women’s fishing expedition in remote Alaska — for July.

Like most people, I had my eye on the coronavirus situation early in the year. As the trip to California approached, I asked my sister, who was traveling with me, if she thought it was safe. At that time, confirmed cases in the U.S. were few. It still felt like a distant possibility. Neither of us brought facemasks or hand sanitizer as we packed for the eight-day trip.

Three days before we departed, on February 25, San Francisco’s mayor declared a state of emergency. I searched maps of outbreaks and news sources to see if there was an increase in cases, but everything I read said the declaration was a precautionary measure — a matter of preparation. So, off we went, not realizing that this trip would occur during the tipping point of the outbreaks in the U.S.

You would never have known we were on the precipice of a major pandemic. For eight days, my sister and I dined in top restaurants, met family in San Francisco, rode the ferry (packed to capacity) to Sausalito, took the train to Monterey for a food tour and walks along the beach, then visited Carmel-by-the-Sea for more beaches and wine tastings and some of the best meals I’ve ever tasted.

Perhaps because we were traveling, and I was working — conducting interviews, taking notes, updating photos, and making social media posts — I didn’t follow the news. Everything I could see was “fine.”

Only a couple times was I reminded of the pandemic and the impending situation. On the train from San Francisco to Monterey, a woman sitting across from my sister and I had an odd cough. It was like she was clearing her throat, but it continued the entire trip. I wondered if it was a nervous tic or if she was ill. Then, while touring a resort where we were staying, the person who was originally supposed to show me around canceled because he was sick. Another woman took his place and when I stuck my hand out to shake hands, she simply looked at my extended hand. I realized in that uncomfortable pause that I’d made an error and wondered if the situation was getting worse without my knowing. Keep in mind that at this time, the virus was still predominately in China.

However, cases were increasing in California. A few people I interviewed — chefs, hotel owners, tour operators — thanked me for getting the word out that it was safe to travel in California. In Chinatown, we took a tour with tourists from Sweden, Germany, and a group of students visiting from Pennsylvania. The area was bustling with shoppers and the virus still felt very far away.

Then, on the flight home, we started to see more masks. My sister was in the window seat and I was in the middle. We both watched as the man sitting on the aisle fastidiously wiped down his seat, table, and monitor. Since I hadn’t been following the news, I thought it was just caution. But when I sneezed (airplane air always tickles my nose), I made a point of sneezing into my elbow, toward my sister instead of the other passenger.

I returned home to an empty refrigerator, so I made a trip to the grocery store to refill my supplies. In just a little more than a week, the situation in Kansas City, Kansas, had changed. I found crowds of shoppers filling their carts, walking in a daze, faces white with fear. Many food items were already sparse, so I grabbed what I could find. There wasn’t any toilet paper to be found, but I did buy a couple boxes of tissues. It was surreal to leave California and its food and shopping and beaches and return to Kansas which, at the time, had just gotten its first confirmed case, but where people were near panic in their preparations.

I had already decided when I returned on March 6 to self-isolate for 14 days, just to be cautious. After just one week of my self-imposed isolation, the number of cases in Kansas multiplied and quick action was taken: Schools closed through the end of the school year. Restaurants and bars closed except for carryout and curbside service.

My two weeks of self-quarantine passed, and now the entire Metro is isolated along with me. I’ve found new ways to entertain myself. Instead of traveling, I’m taking online classes, watching free concerts, and utilizing the free classes the YMCA has online to stay active. I’m also taking walks, working on essays I haven’t had time to write, and dreaming of when I will travel again.

Travel, for me, is stopped until the situation improves. I watched as other travel writers debated whether to continue. Some argued for their right to travel; others say it is irresponsible to travel now. I canceled all my upcoming trips but one.

In July, if possible, I plan to attend the fishing expedition in Alaska. It’s a remote area and the lodge only holds 16 people. There will be plenty of opportunity for hiking and boating and fresh air away from large crowds. All I can say at the moment is, “We’ll see.” But dreaming of future travel keeps me sane during this unprecedented time, so I will continue to plan and wait for future trips.

Back in San Francisco, the night before our flight home, we stayed at the Grand Hyatt located at the airport. Inside our room was a pair of binoculars for watching the planes land and viewing the cityscape and homes nearby. My sister took a photo of me looking through the binoculars. The photo is symbolic for me. It shows my back as I look out, to what lies ahead. I feel like that is my destiny for now, to stay in yet look out toward what is to come.

For more on COVID-19, including ideas for making the most of your time at home, see our most recently published content here.

In January of 2018, after freeing myself from all work obligations, I took off to Costa Rica, planning on a three-to-six-month life and career break. The things I love most have always been overseas travel and meeting people from different cultures. After six months doing both full time, I was hooked. I gave up my expensive New York apartment and am now in my third year of circling the globe. I’ve enjoyed traveling at my own pace — darting in and out of some places, and staying as long as four months in others.

Over the past two years I’ve been to six of the seven continents. I’ve worried about getting malaria in some places, and about being mugged, kidnapped, or murdered in others. But I continued to travel, and I’ve loved every minute of it.

I’ve faced so many fears that when I heard about the coronavirus in China, it seemed far away. Its potential to spread didn’t make me feel that I should stop traveling. I headed to New Zealand, and when I learned that flights from China had been suspended, I was relieved and felt safe.

Since I arrived here in mid-February, things have changed from week to week — and sometimes from day to day. Friends in New York have sent me photos of empty streets and supermarket shelves. Here in New Zealand, however, there’s plenty of toilet paper, and it’s still business as usual — for now. Every day I eat at a local cafe, and I wonder whether it will be the last day I can dine in the presence of other people. I also feel concerned that mandatory isolation has not yet been put in place.

When I arrived in Christchurch, the largest city on New Zealand’s South Island, I found that there were almost no accommodations available. My shuttle driver told me that they had expected the decline in Chinese tourists to decimate New Zealand’s economy. Surprisingly, this didn’t happen because so many people came from other parts of the world. I was lucky to meet a lovely woman on my first night in Christchurch who took me in for almost a week. These kinds of offers would now be unlikely and even unsafe.

I phoned my health insurance company to ask if I would be covered if I contracted COVID-19. They told me they’d only cover me if I got sick in my home country (I’m from the United States) and that if I flew to an impacted country, I wouldn’t be covered. While scrambling to figure out what to do about this, the pandemic caused my carrier to amend their policy, and now, thankfully, I’ll be covered anywhere.

My first two weeks traveling around the South Island were wonderful. However, I noticed myself becoming anxious around people from impacted countries. I hated thinking that I should distance myself — it felt racist and ridiculous. As I continued to travel, the virus went from a problem in China to a global pandemic. There’s so much speculation, and the news is, in my opinion, causing more fear and anxiety than is helpful.

I was delighted with the prime minister of New Zealand’s response. She required 14-day isolation for all people entering the country back when New Zealand only had six cases. She made an announcement specifying that the borders would be closed to people, not products, so there would be enough food for everyone. That’s why the supermarkets here are still well stocked.

With all of the uncertainty, I decided to take a bus up north to an area that seemed less touristy. I hoped I’d be around fewer people and be better able to practice semi-isolation. I rode 8 hours up from Rotorua, changing buses in Auckland.

On the second bus, the woman behind me started a conversation. I learned that she and her daughters were from Canada and had arrived two days prior. They felt lucky to have made it in before they would have had to self-quarantine for 14 days. I wanted to run and hide, but there was nowhere to go. Risking her own health was her prerogative, but coming off a plane and immediately jumping onto public transportation seemed thoughtless, given the circumstances. I’m doing my best to keep a healthy distance from everyone for the next two weeks, since I don’t know if she put me at risk.

On that same bus, I met a guy from Britain. We spoke at length about the circumstances and ended up riding to the same stop. We exchanged numbers and went in for a handshake — then thought better of it and bumped elbows instead. It felt strange to hold back on natural human contact.

I found a lovely Airbnb for a week — a room at a woman’s home. She picked me up at the bus station, and, after showing me around, informed me that her family might be coming over from Australia in a few days to self-isolate. She asked if I minded. I had no idea how to respond. It’s her house, and her family is most important, so how could I say that I’d mind? I thought.

But, truth be told, even though I have my own separate entrance and bathroom, I was worried that we’d touch the same door handle, that we’d be washing all the dishes in the same sink, and that there’d be no real way for us to stay separate enough. These are the thoughts I hate the most. If you let them, they can cause stress, fear, and anxiety.

Her family ended up canceling their trip.

My parents are both older, and if I were home, I’d be terrified to visit either one of them for fear of picking up the virus outside and infecting them. But I worry about them every day as much as they worry about me.

The impact on small businesses is something I didn’t expect. Last year, I took a few tours with a company in South Africa. I put a deposit down in February for a gorilla trek in Uganda later this year. I just canceled my reservation, expecting a 100 percent refund. Instead, they told me that they will be keeping my deposit for use on another trip. As a fellow small business owner, I felt their pain. Since I have a nice relationship with them, and it’s clear that I’m entitled to the refund, but they’re trying to cover their losses, I suggested a gesture of goodwill on both our parts. I asked them to refund me 50 percent now, and, hopefully, they could give me the rest in the future, or I could take another tour with them. They appreciated my understanding and did issue me the 50 percent refund.

Just two weeks ago, I was making plans to visit one of my best friends in Australia, contemplating whether to stop at an island like Vanuatu on the way. But when the prime minister announced that New Zealand would close its borders, I was faced with a choice: risk my health by jumping on a plane back to New York, or avoid the health risk but be stuck — indefinitely — in New Zealand.

I decided to stay in New Zealand. I’ve got two months left on my tourist visa and hope, by then, that things will clear up and flights will begin again. If not, I’ll have to apply for an extended visa. I miss the ability to travel where I want, when I want. All I can do is make decisions with the information I have today — and keep doing that every day.

On the plus side, I’m in a Facebook group for travelers and saw a comment from another woman who’s also stuck in New Zealand. It turns out that she’s from New Jersey! In an effort to carve out a safe space for those of us who need it, I created my own Facebook group for travelers who are weathering the storm in other countries.

My Airbnb host has graciously offered to let me extend my stay with her so that I don’t end up completely alone. I’ve even made a few friends nearby. It’s nice to know that I’m not really alone, and I’m wishing everyone good health.

Although I didn’t grow up in Kansas, after living here for the past two decades, I’ve learned that Kansas City is serious about Spring Break.

We don’t have mountains, so winter sports lovers want to head west and hit the slopes. We don’t have a beach (and the winters can be brutal), so others spend a week in March soaking up the sunshine.

And for everyone else, there’s March Madness. From the consistently highly ranked University of Kansas Jayhawks to the NAIA Men’s Basketball National Championship, it’s no wonder this town is called the College Basketball Capital of the World.

I’m in the hate-the-cold-need-sunshine bucket, and so we boarded a plane for California. While global coronavirus cases were on the rise, the threat still seemed distant, with headlines focused predominantly on Italy. Planes were flying, the sights we wanted to see were open, and we saw no reason to change our plans. Plus, our hotel rooms were nonrefundable.

As soon as we landed, we received word that the tennis tournament that was to consume the first few days of our itinerary had been canceled. As other sporting events around the nation started throwing in the towel, from spring training to March Madness, we realized that things were about to change — and fast.

With half a century of travel experience under my belt, I know that not every trip goes smoothly and that curveballs can veer your way. So we tried to focus on the positive and rework our itinerary, but at each step another roadblock appeared. And, as with every challenge in life, I learned several important things during this trip.

Many People Don’t Understand The Restrictions

While we didn’t witness blatant disregard for the imposed restrictions (like that on display in the now-infamous photos of unfettered partiers on Florida beaches), we did encounter a surprising number of folks who expressed a similar mindset: “I’m young and healthy. Why should I change my routine?” Even back at home, where the number of COVID-19 cases is much lower, I hear folks asking the same question.

A lot has happened very quickly in the past few days. But if you’re still asking yourself that question, know that the restrictions are in place not to keep you from getting the coronavirus as much as to help ensure you’re not inadvertently spreading it to others, especially those who are over 65 or have other medical conditions.

Those Trying To Do The Right Thing Don’t Always Have A Clear Plan

On our last night in Pasadena, we ate at an amazing restaurant in Chinatown. We were the only folks there, and as we complimented the owner on the amazing bowls of homemade ramen, he chatted with us for a bit. He said that the governor had asked restaurants to stay open but cut capacity by 50 percent. He wasn’t sure if that meant to remove half the tables, be open half the hours, or something else. It wasn’t clear what specific steps needed to be taken.

Travel Providers Are Going Above And Beyond

We are avid fans of Southwest Airlines and Hotels.com, and both companies went above and beyond to get us on an earlier flight home and to cancel our unused hotel stays without any penalties. Yes, the folks at those companies are overwhelmed, and it took three of us calling and live chatting from multiple devices quite some time to get the changes made, but they happened.

Folks In The Travel Industry Are Putting Their Best Face Forward

From hotel cleaning staff to front desk attendants to flight attendants, those working on the front lines of the travel industry are extremely worried about their jobs. Yet every encounter we had with them was upbeat and positive. We witnessed so many people going above and beyond standard protocol to help curb the spread of the virus, each reassuring us that they were there to help ensure we had a positive experience despite the circumstances.

Our experience at the Hyatt Place Pasadena was so wonderful that when we get to the other side of this pandemic and try this trip again next year, it’s the only place I want to stay in Southern California.

Small Businesses Need Our Help

Before the pandemic, small businesses already faced plenty of challenges. With the current closures and restrictions, they need our help more than ever.

The impact of canceled events, limited travel, closed stores, and scared consumers is going to be hard on the world’s economy. But global giants and national brands can withstand a 30-day closure, and they’ll be able to recover relatively quickly when this is over. Meanwhile, small business owners could lose their life savings and their homes and be forced to file for bankruptcy.

TravelAwaits readers live all across the United States and around the world. Please consider searching for a resource like this example from Hamilton County, Indiana. The Hamilton County Tourism Board has not just assembled a list of local restaurants offering carry-out. It has also listed ways residents can help small businesses and has established a donation page for local food pantries and community assistance programs.

For more ways to help your favorite small businesses, see this piece.

We Are Living In Unprecedented Times

Like me, you have probably experienced a combination of exhilarating experiences and terribly trying times in your life. But aside from the dwindling members of the Greatest Generation, who lived through the Great Depression and World War II, most of us have never experienced anything like what we’re currently facing around the world. And unfortunately, there could be even tougher times around the corner.

My advice to each of you:

• Heed the advice of infectious disease experts and other experienced professionals to keep yourself and your loved ones safe and to stop the spread of the coronavirus to others.
• Fact-check everything you hear from a friend or read on social media to be sure you’re receiving reliable information.
• Stay updated on the situation, but give yourself a break from the nonstop news cycle. Use this time to make memories with your loved ones, learn a new skill, or binge on a favorite hobby without feeling guilty.

I hope that you and your loved ones remain safe and that we get through this pandemic stronger, kinder, and more united than ever before.