South Africa has entered its third wave of COVID-19 with another round of strict measures introduced on Sunday night. Cabin fever, coupled with personal relations being strained, can take its toll. In his latest #SliceofGasant, Gasant Abarder describes his journey to survive in choppy waters.
Abarder, who recently launched his book, Hack with a Grenade, is among the country’s most influential media voices. Catch his weekly column here, exclusive to Cape {town} Etc.
Back in my 20s, I had ambitions to surf. I bought a very expensive wetsuit because I wanted to impress my then-girlfriend, who is now my wife. I started off with bodyboarding to learn the rhythm of the waves and how to catch one. But that first time, I had a distinct lack of balance. I wiped out and the seabed’s trajectory upwards towards the beach left some skin on my face behind, like a coarse grit of sandpaper had been wiped across it.
I needed balance. I grew in confidence along with the skin growing back on my face. One morning, I found myself behind the break and in the washing machine of a nasty current. It was misty. All the ingredients for a panic attack and a complete meltdown.
Instead, my less fearful, younger self-decided to sit it out until I got the gap to make my way back to dry land. But this is not about surfing because what I know about that is dangerous. It’s about another kind of wave. The third wave.
So, I present to you my journey of finding balance during lockdown, working from home (or even from the office) and keeping your sanity intact without wiping out.
I am a bit of an authority. My wife and I have been working from home since March last year which, give or take, has been 16 months. My very practical and smarter half immediately set up a home office in our bedroom. I chose a nomadic existence: first the couch, then the spare bedroom and then the centre island of our newly-renovated kitchen where I had plugs with USB ports installed.
The first few weeks went well as we got to grips with the demands of the home, the kids’ schooling and our workloads. My wife’s bosses were clock watchers while the nature of my work was more fluid. We were both fortunate with no salary cuts while many around us tested positive for COVID-19, lost livelihoods and their lives.
But a few months into it, that old chestnut, “absence makes the heart grow fonder”, became a reality. We were in each other’s faces all the time and admitted that while we loved each other, we didn’t like each other very much. Part of it was a clash of work cultures. I’m an extrovert and bounce off others. Mrs Abarder is reserved and diligent about work. The pressure of endless Zoom sessions that people call, I guess, to somehow affirm they’re productive.
Marital bliss turned into troubled waters. Now, though, we’re back on our boards and liking each other again. There are loads of laughs too. How did we get here?
The first lesson is sharing home duties.
We both have full-time jobs and even before lockdown there were no defined roles like hunter-gatherer versus homemaker in the Abarder household. I can hold my own in the kitchen and rate myself an accomplished dishwasher, laundry expert and all-round tutor (maybe with the exception being Grade 6 maths). Not bad for a mommy’s boy.
We realised we needed space away from each other and that meant finding ourselves in our own spaces. For Mrs Abarder, that has been crossfit on a Monday, Wednesday and Friday.
For me, it’s football, a short run, skipping, boxing, cycling and cardio – and heck, even ballet and yoga – on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. The partner who is on the roster is free from cooking and cleaning duties.
We got a generous rebate on black tax and have weekly date nights by leaving the kids with my parents, who live on our property in their own little cottage.
If Mrs Abarder needs a timeout with her girls, she can stay out as long as she likes and I don’t bug her at all. She affords me the same space when I hang out with the lads. And dads, for heaven’s sake: taking care of your kids so the missus can let her hair down is not babysitting. They’re your bloody kids too, aren’t they?
The result: a happy spouse who is on board as your ultimate partner. Staying on the board is staying in the moment.
If your mind drifts you’re going to wipe out. Get that hamster spinning in your head to calm down. Put the phone away when the workday is over and appreciate the quality time with your kids and your spouse. As we’ve seen with this pandemic, life is short and precious.
Be kind to others and yourself. It’s not your wave alone. If you come out of the biggest threat of the 21st century and you’re still an asshole, you have some serious introspection to do, my friend. When you wipe out, get back on the board!
Laylaa Abarder and I celebrate 14 years of marriage on Wednesday. Here’s to many more!