Virtually inseparable in isolation
From virtual book clubs to Friday drinks with colleagues over Zoom, ingenious Kiwis are adapting to an isolated life with some No 8 wire thinking, writes Siobhan Downes. ‘When I was young, we went overseas and it took a letter six weeks to get to our pare
Jo McCarroll talks to her mum and dad on the phone all the time. But with the prospect of four weeks apart suddenly making the distance between Auckland, where the NZ Gardener magazine editor is based, and Hamilton, where her parents live, seem that much further, they decided to experiment with the video chat function on Facebook messenger.
At first, it was a thrill to be able to see each other – McCarroll’s face smiling up through the tiny screen at her parents’ home. They were in bed having a cup of tea. What happened next could quite possibly have made the video a strong contender for The Ellen DeGeneres Show.
‘‘My father handed the phone to my mother, who was wildly swinging it around because she’s unfamiliar with it. Then my father got out of bed and the camera suddenly zoomed in on my father’s belly and his [underpants].
‘‘I screamed, my mother dropped the phone and we all went into absolute hysterics.’’
It’s a tale that will no doubt be a familiar one for many Kiwis as technology becomes a lifeline in lockdown. Family chats have been frantically set up. Parents have been given quick tutorials in the language of emojis, grandparents have been armed with iPads and vague instructions on how to use Skype, and human relations teams have been coming up with creative solutions to keep their workplaces connected.
One app you’ll have heard a lot about is Zoom, a video-conferencing tool that has seen an explosion in use since the masses started working from home.
With fun features such as a beautification filter and virtual backgrounds that mean you can conduct your meetings from on top of Dubai’s Burj Khalifa, if you wish, the app has overtaken old favourites such as Google Hangouts and Skype to become the video-calling app of choice during the coronavirus pandemic.
‘‘We’ve been working with Zoom for the past five years, before it was really popular,’’ says Simon Robinson, the national sales manager of Connect NZ, an authorised reseller of Zoom in New Zealand.
‘‘It’s gone from being something that was viewed as a nice-to-have to a mission-critical app in an organisation.’’
While Connect NZ has been working ‘‘18- to 20-hour days’’ to help organisations set up their corporate Zoom accounts, many have been making the most of the app’s free basic accounts, which still let you have up to 100 people on a call for 40 minutes – perfect for virtual yoga classes, gym sessions or music lessons, Robinson says.
‘‘We’re getting some great feedback. It works, it’s simple, and if it adds some value to the country in this period, then that’s great.’’
One Wellington-based organisation was determined to maintain its beloved Friday afternoon ‘‘chips and dip’’ tradition via Zoom.
‘‘Everyone’s going to dial in at 4pm. We’ll probably do the Dom Post quiz and that sort of stuff,’’ said an employee.
‘‘It’s just a chance to see each other’s faces and have a bit of a laugh, and hopefully we can remain connected during this very weird time. Although I was saying to a colleague, let’s be real, no-one’s going to have any chips left by Friday.’’
But it’s not just being deployed by workplaces. Wellington mum Karen Schworer has been letting her 8-year-old daughter, Olivia, use the app to keep in touch with her walking bus friends.
‘‘They’re all at Wadestown School together, and they’re missing each other,’’ Schworer says.
‘‘The calls are hilarious. There are discussions about how little brothers and little sisters are ‘so annoying’. Even if they’re just chatting and being silly, they’re still learning. They’d normally see each other every day, so this is better than nothing.’’
Meanwhile, a Wellington book club – which has met once a month for the past year – is planning its first virtual gathering, using WhatsApp or Skype.
‘‘We normally all bring something to eat, but we obviously can’t do that bit, so we’ll just have to make up our own cheese platters,’’ book club member Esme Chiverton says.
‘‘But we can all share our thoughts on the books, at least.’’
The Houseparty app is another video-chatting service that has enjoyed a resurgence in popularity. The app has been around since 2016, but has shot up all the charts as its ability to provide a ‘‘face-to-face social network’’ takes on new significance.
Part of the appeal is that it’s simple and fun to use. Up to eight people can enter a video chat at once, and when a ‘‘door’’ to a party is left unlocked, friends of friends can pop in, like a real house party.
Auckland mum Amanda, who did not want her last name used, downloaded the app this week, and used it to chat with her mum group, and her 20-month-old daughter was able to talk to her friends.
The next four weeks would be particularly hard as she wouldn’t be able to see her husband, who was working at Wha¯ nga¯ rei Hospital and needed to remain isolated from his family.
But after using the app, her mood ‘‘instantly elevated’’, she says.
‘‘I think I’m quite extroverted, so I do rely on having those social interactions to get me going. I was feeling a bit down, and that was probably due to the fact that I haven’t really been seeing anyone.’’
With endless communication options at our fingertips, Kiwis today will have a totally different experience of quarantine to those who were kept home during the polio epidemic in 1948.
‘‘When I was young, we went overseas and it took a letter six weeks to get to our parents in
New Zealand,’’ Cambridge grandmother-of-seven Lindsay Oldershaw says.
‘‘Now, with technology, it is just wonderful.’’ McCarroll, whose parents have not been put off by their first Facebook Messenger experience and now plan to use it daily, says she has a whole new appreciation for social media.
‘‘I’ve previously been like, it’s pretty dumb, stay off it, but with the situation we’re in, having the tools to connect to the people you love – genuinely talk, share and communicate – it’s actually incredible.’’
LINDSAY OLDERSHAW Cambridge grandmother-of-seven