Fleeting blossom goes unseen as president makes ominous noises
It should have been a chance to sell ‘Ireland Inc’ but it was all wiped away, writes Niamh Horan in Washington
‘All public events and gatherings are banned’
ON the tree-lined streets of Washington DC, spring has sprung early. But the famous cherry blossoms due to attract more than a million tourists for an annual festival stand alone, the streets are deserted.
The ancient Japanese symbolism of the fleeting pink and white flowers — a reminder to live in the moment — now provide an ironic backdrop to a country gripped by fear. Latest reports predict between 160 million and 214 million people in the US could be infected by the coronavirus and as many as 200,000 to 1.7 million could die.
For Ireland, what should have been a week to sell ‘Ireland Inc’ abroad turned out to be a half-cooked affair.
Thousands had flown in to attend pre-St Patrick’s Day networking events in the White House and at the fivestar hotels around Capitol Hill — but one by one, they were cancelled.
The concern for the economic impact in the coming months has been palpable. As one leading businessman tasked with bringing investment to Ireland from abroad said: “We just don’t know.” There was no other way he could put it.
Last Wednesday night at the Ireland-America Funds dinner, the great and the good drank the night away in what was described as “the last great party in the US for some time”. One reveller said: “It feels like the last days of the Roman Empire.”
Party-goers sipped champagne and knocked elbows, then watched on their phones as US President Donald Trump addressed the nation with an ominous warning. All flights from Europe to the United States — barring those from Britain and Ireland — would be cancelled. As one attendee put it the next day: “When Donald Trump is reading from a script, you know things must be bad.” This felt like war.
The talk at the tables was “let’s get out of here”. Travel agents were called and flights home brought forward. The following morning over breakfast at the Dupont Circle Hotel, the focal point for many on the St Patrick’s Day trip, even the waiters had suddenly become experts on Schengen countries and “flattening the curve”.
Outside, locals spoke of avoiding the subway “at all costs” and people opened door handles with elbows and closed knuckles.
Queues spiralled from the local Costco, where water and toilet rolls were rationed in response to the ‘grab-in-bulk’ style adopted by panicked shoppers.
The stories of how quick the virus was spreading were coming thick and fast.
Down the road, a rector in Georgetown who spent five minutes giving a sermon about hand-washing, later had to inform his 500 parishioners to self-quarantine after he himself had become infected, despite sanitising before the service and again before Communion.
Meanwhile, the Irish, still intent on keeping the show on the road, were attempting to temper the concern with humour. One man stuck his hand out [a gesture now seen as an equivalent to being held-up at gunpoint] and reassured, with a wide grin: “It’s OK, I’ve sanitised, it’s the new chat-up line!”
But no one was taking that risk. The “chicken dance” of tapping elbows and feet was the only socially acceptable greeting in town.
Not heard in previous years was the constant whir of helicopters overhead. Presumably this is how the rich are handling the fallout. Taking social isolation to a new high.
On the streets below, the phrase ‘cancel culture’ took on a whole new meaning. All public events, sports leagues and public gatherings have been banned nationwide.
In the capital’s most famous bookstore, Kramerbooks & Afterwords Cafe, author Carder Stout was setting up fold-out chairs for the launch of his new book, Lost
in Ghost Town, and hoping the panic wouldn’t affect his night.
His friend, a psychoanalyst named Buffy Myles, was perfectly placed to make sense of the madness that had gripped her country.
“In the Vietnam War, the American soldiers couldn’t see the enemy, that’s why they came home so messed up,” she said. “When people can’t see what they’re fighting, that’s a whole other level of fear…”