Items

• 2020-08-10

  Smelling the labor shortage

  Trash stinks. This fact is universally recognized, except, maybe, by raccoons and the like. Nobody likes to have trash around, let alone piled up and overflowing. And that's not something that most people have to really worry about. The – at least relative – cleanliness of the streets is taken for granted by the vast majority of people who are privileged enough to enjoy regular cleanup services. For most of my life, I placed my trash in a bag in a bin in my kitchen until it was full, or, if I made chicken for dinner, until I was done cooking. Then I took the bag out of the bin and out to the larger bin outside – out of sight, out of mind. When Sunday night rolled around, I emptied the kitchen bin one final time, took it out, and wheeled the larger bin to the sidewalk. It was empty when I woke up on Monday and thus began the cycle again. The city's sanitation workers faithfully took care of mine and everyone else's trash before the crack of dawn. But something changed one Monday morning in August 2020. I pulled in the driveway at 3:30pm after having just finished an exhausting shift at a coffee shop, where a third of my coworkers had called out sick over the course of that week. As I always do, I walked over to the bin, grabbed the handle, and started wheeling it back to its usual place by the back yard gate. It felt heavy. It wasn't full; I usually don't produce enough trash to fill it up every week. "Was today a holiday?", I thought to myself. No, it was just a regular Monday – as regular as any day could be post-March 2020. Maybe they were just behind schedule. I kept walking back to the back yard gate and. as usual, I spun the bin around intending to just walk away. Being clumsy, I managed to set it off its balance and knocked it over. Trash spilled onto the ground and one of the bags broke open. The smell of rotting eggshells, an old hunk of cheese I found while cleaning out my refrigerator three days prior, and the, er, soiled, cat litter wafted upwards creating a smoldering cocktail of aromas that left me coughing. I got gloves and a mask (something I never would have owned six months back) and cleaned it up – no big deal. Tuesday came and still there was no sign of the sanitation workers. Sunday arrived and again I wheeled the bin to the road; this time it was so full that the lid would not fully close. I assumed that last week's interruption of service was a one-off. As I got home from work Monday and saw the bin still full, I realized the degree to which I had been taking the trash service for granted. I wheeled it back to the gate, went inside, and opened up the news app on my computer. I stumbled across an article about the disproportionate affects of COVID-19 on essential workers. The lack of service was not a one-off, it was a problem. Recent photos of streets littered with trash and overflowing bins abounded when I did a Google search for them. I went outside to go for a walk. That smell – the cocktail of cheese, eggs, and cat litter – was now at my front door. Similar cocktails emanated from each house I walked past, each with their own garnish, so to speak. It was overpowering. It was the first time I had experienced the result of our modality of living in such a visceral, sensory way. But beyond my own discomfort and beyond the discomfort of my neighbors' similar experiences, that overpowering stench that saturated the air made me conscious of the people who clean it up for me every week. It made me conscious of the degree to which we as a society depend of them and people who perform other services we take for granted. It highlighted, in a very stark way, what our society prioritizes above the health of its people. The sanitation workers don't make very much money. They have to go to work, even if they are sick, because lack of guaranteed sick time even in the midst of a raging pandemic puts their lives at risk. Either way, their lives are at risk.
• 
  2022-02-01

  The Toast of Covid

  The COVID-19 pandemic has been quite the sensory overload. Our sight, smell, and sense of sound were heightened as the world slowed down, paralyzed with fear. As I write this, I have just become one of the countless victims of COVID-19, revealed to me by a home test kit just this morning. My body is weak, I cough constantly, I get dizzy if I stand, and I find that my appetite has left me. When talking about the heightened senses of COVID, it would be easy to talk about the sounds of coughing, or the feel of masks pressed up against your face, but in this moment I find my most heightened sense is the smell of toast. Peculiar as it is, it seems to be the only thing I find remotely appetizing at the moment. My mother, who is a registered nurse on the front lines of the fight against COVID has loaded me down with a regimen of vitamins and assorted medicines. She is insistent that I keep something on my stomach to avoid getting more sick. But what to eat? Nothing looks, smells, or sounds satisfying except toast. The smell of heat and bread wafting from the toaster reminds me that it could be far worse. I could have lost my sense of smell completely, as so many have. It further gives me hope that I will move on from my sickness as society will move to manage COVID. What the smells of the pandemic can tell is, is that while it seems a collective struggle of society, it is an even greater individual struggle. How can we cope with sickness when our bodies are paralyzed with the inability to function as we once did? The smell of toast to me that provides hope, could be chicken noodle soup for another, or fresh air for another. These smells are enticing for a number of reasons to improve our health, whether that be toast to hold medicine down, or the smells of outside which bring about a healthy walk. In a world so panicked and overwhelmed, what I think will be ultimately remembered by the pandemic is the appreciation for simple sounds and smells, such as that of toast.
• 
  2022-01-31

  THE WISDOM OF TWO-YEAR-OLDS

  As I got out of my car last Sunday morning in pursuit of caffeine, I took one last deep breath of the freshly-brewed coffee emanating from my local barista's shop before pulling on my N-95 mask and entering the cafe. I live in California and masks are required in all shops in my part of the state. So snug was my mask’s fit, that the aroma instantly vanished. Masks and odor are tightly related, not in just snuffing out outside scents. For anyone who has ever pulled on a previously worn mask, you will have noticed an opportunity to smell used YOU, up close and nasally. Walking in to get my brew, I passed a family with two-year-old twins, bedecked in pink glittery princess gowns complete with wands, tiaras, and the newest in royal attire—tiny COVID masks. One skipped and the other twirled, both seemingly unbothered by their face coverings. And they are not alone. I am still stunned by the casual aplomb of the very young when it comes to mask-wearing. I first noticed this phenomenon several months ago at LAX. It was late in the evening—peak red-eye time. Preschoolers, some overtired and wired, others sleepily dozing in their parents’ arms, passed by. All wore COVID masks; Spiderman; Elmo; mini soccer balls, dinosaurs. None complained. Perhaps they welcomed the slight dulling of their sense of smell since young noses are far more sensitive to odors than mature ones. This makes me wonder why small children do not feel the need to evoke the Gestapo or Hermann Goebbels when it comes to a small piece of fabric that has saved millions of lives. Apart from a diminished sense of smell when wearing N-95s, will we miss mask-wearing when it is no longer a matter of life or death? I for one am not sure. I like the fact that there is no need to wear lipstick. I can skip makeup from the brow down and stop obsessing about new wrinkles. I welcome the feel of an extra layer of warmth on chilly mornings. But perhaps we should look to the two-year-olds who have accepted this bit of sartorial attire as a fun accessory—a tiara for your nasal passages.
• 
  2020-03-19

  Pandemic Smells and Silence

  When the pandemic became widespread enough for schools to start shutting down, it seems that’s when life really changed. I remember - it was March 2020 - and my school district had just gone on spring break. It was still uncertain whether teachers and students would be returning to their classroom after break’s end. We were asked to come into our classrooms to gather any teaching supplies we might be able to use to teach virtually in the event that we would be told to remain at home. When I arrived at school, it was so quiet. There were a few cars parked in the parking lot, but no people to be seen. The usual student chatter, catching fragments of conversation as they walked by, the bustle of cars parking was gone. As I entered my building, a wave of chemically cleaned and sanitized air blasted my nostrils. The smells of bleach and whatever other industrial cleaners schools use wafted through the halls. They had recently been cleaned - I had never seen them so pristine. A few custodian cleaning carts were scattered nearby, but still no one to be seen. Every footfall seemed louder against the backdrop of silence. The deserted hallway and the chemical smell assaulting my olfactory system had turned my second home into something sterile and unwelcoming. Entering my classroom, I noticed it, too, had been sanitized with heavy chemicals and a jug of hand sanitizer had unceremoniously been plopped on my desk. I surveyed my classroom, nostrils burning from the bleach again, grabbed what I needed and went home. It would be the last time I would see my classroom for a long time. The memory of that shining, white hallway and the burning air of “purification” has stayed with me.
• 
  2021-09

  The comforting smell of cardamom and cinnamon on a Sunday morning

  One of the most defining characteristics of my quarantine has been learning how to bake. After a year and a half, I am finally comfortable kneading, proofing, and baking. I have learned the tell-tale signs of under-proofed and over-proofed bread by touch (slightly indent the bread with the end of your finger and how the dough springs-back will tell you all you need). I have learned to listen for the hollow sound of fully cooked bread. However, one of the greatest joys I have found with baking is filling the house with the smell of cinnamon, sugar, and cardamom on a Sunday morning with my slightly adjusted cinnamon roll recipe from our well-used Betty Crocker’s 1961 New Picture Cookbook (it was my mum’s before me). My family is Scandinavian, and the smell and taste of cardamom is ever-present in Scandinavian baking. Kanalsnegl, klejner, and fødselsdagboller are all delicious Danish and Norwegian cardamom classics. But Betty Crocker’s cinnamon rolls are also highly popular in my house. From this, a fusion roll was born. On Sunday mornings, the house is filled with cinnamon and cardamon of these classic buns. The Betty Crocker recipe calls for two teaspoons of cinnamon filling, but I sub one teaspoon with cardamom. I also add a pinch of cardamom to the butterscotch topping. In a time of stressful uncertainty, the smell of freshly baked rolls with cinnamon and cardamom is like wrapping up in a comfortable blanket. I have attached the recipe if you want to try this sensory smell experience, too.
• 
  2021-10-17

  Fish Food

  Since the Pandemic began and I was moved to remote work I have been spending more time than ever in my apartment. I bought some house plants to liven up my humble abode but they are easy to care for and don't do too much other than exist. I was looking to get a pet to occupy some of my time but unfortunately my building does not allow for cats or dogs, so I went for a fish friend as the lease was ambiguous towards fish. In college my roommate had two fish tanks and cared for them very well. The fish were always big hits with house guests and caring for them seemed easy enough. It was with this in mind that I purchased a male betta fish, which I named Tarzan after the drug smuggler Ludwig Fainberg from the documentary "Operation Odessa" which I highly recommend. However caring for a betta fish is not as simple as I initially thought. Yet with the help of the internet and all its wisdom I was able to do enough research and find exactly what I needed to make my tank as comfortable as possible for Tarzan. I purchased a five gallon tank along with, a filter, a heater (betta fish like it warm), gravel, a background poster, a pagoda, live plants, a net, a gravel pump for cleaning, ph chemicals, a large moss rock and of course fish food. He gets fed twice a day, once in the AM and once in the PM. The tank needs to be cleaned at least once a month and the filter is changed during that process as well. Every time I crack open his food my nose is greeted by a distinct fish food smell that is unmistakable and equally unpleasant. While I do not think that it would be impossible to care for Tarzan if I was still going into the office every day, it is definitely easier now that I am home more often. Cleaning the tank takes about an hour and can get smelly at times depending on how long it has been since its last cleaning. Without the current work from home situation brought on by the pandemic I would not have considered owning any type of pet that I would have to care for on a daily basis. The average lifespan of a betta fish is between three to five years, hopefully with enough care Tarzan can live to the full five and see the other side of the pandemic.
• 
  2020-08-15

  I Missed Normal Hand Sanitizer

  I am a high school teacher, so I used a lot of hand sanitizer long before COVID-19. One of the things that I will never forget from the pandemic was the smell of the hand sanitizer. There were shortages on all disinfectants for months, and the hand sanitizers I could find were brands I had never seen before. The worst part about this new hand sanitizers was the smell. They all had a sharp smell, much worse than the normal alcohol smell. Some smelled truly terrible, almost rotten. I put lemon essential oil in one to try to change the smell, but it made no difference. It just smelled like rotten citrus. When my school went back in person in the fall of 2020, the worst part was having to sanitize all the time with the stinky hand sanitizer. I gained a whole new appreciation for Germ-X. It was almost sad how happy I was when I found a bottle of Germ-X stashed in my cupboard (because teachers were hoarding cleaning supplies before it was cool). I put it on my teacher desk behind my computer and hoarded it from the kids!
• 2020-06-01

  Beautiful Silence in Paradise

  Hawaii is a very unique place in terms of its beauty and overall welcoming atmosphere. I grew up knowing how popular of a destination spot my state is and how in many ways we are extremely dependent on outside sources to fuel our small island economies and businesses. I had thought that aspects I had become used to seeing, such as the extremely busy downtown shopping and tourism part of Hilo, would never change. The many common things you'd have smelled seen and heard were the many cars out on the road, the overfilled wastebaskets by every park and beach, the tents of entire families at many of the beaches, and the constant rush of modern living in Hawaii. Then in March through April of 2020, the university in which I was attending at the time made the big decision to cancel in person meetings for the foreseeable future. The days of constant business and crowded areas in a matter of weeks ceased to be. In late April continuing until recently, the most common things you would see empty streets, closed signs, empty parking lots, and most importantly of all, you would actually get to smell the salt of the water from the ocean, the chirping of birds by the dozens in commercial areas, and even the return of sea turtles to what were known to be crowded beaches. It’s as if the lack of tourism and industry during Covid-19 gave us local residents a new perspective of our home. One where it felt like we could finally breathe and stretch out our legs for a bit while we dealt with the pandemic effects.
• 
  2020-11-26

  A New Sense of Taste

  The memory I related is about the difference in taste and smell before I had covid versus after. It is still altered in some ways and did not return as it was before. I still find it jarring eat something that I used to love only to find that it tastes different and I no longer like it.
• 
  2021-10-14

  Smell of Covid in Carolina

  This story of the pandemic deals with the sense of smell and how it relates to my experiences while working as a security guard at a local college.
• 
  2021-10-14

  Smell of Covid in South Carolina

  Until recently I worked for Campus Security at a small college in the upstate of South Carolina. Before Covid, my job mainly consisted of patrolling the campus on foot and by vehicle. I would let students into their dorm rooms when they were locked out, perform traffic duty, write parking tickets, and occasionally perform searches if we thought a student had a weapon or some other kind of contraband. When the virus began to make itself known on campus, our job descriptions changed. Oddly enough, we were expected to deliver meals, three times a day to students who either had the virus or were in quarantine due to exposure. At first, we only had a small handful of students to feed but by the Fall of 2020, we were delivering meals to nearly one hundred students. Keep in mind, there were at the most, only four officers delivering these meals at any given time and the student to be fed were spread all over campus. The one thing that really stands out in my mind during this time is the smell. I have never been a huge fan of breakfast but the smell of scrambled eggs that never seemed to go away, almost ruined the first meal of the day for me. No matter how quickly you delivered the meals, by the time you finished, the patrol vehicle smelled like scrambled eggs. If it was a warm day, which it usually was in South Carolina, the smell was particularly heavy. House Keeping had to sanitize the dorms daily. One particular dorm building had a smell of its own due to the fact that a large trash bag burst in the elevator and spilled its contents all over the ground floor lobby. Many of the quarantined students lived in this dorm and I can still remember the rancid smell when walking through the front door. No matter how much they cleaned, house keeping never could quite get the smell out. While working at the college, I was like most, worried that I would contract the virus. To help prevent this, I sanitized my hands on a regular basis. The smell of alcohol wipes and Lysol will always remind me of this time. I also wore a mask wherever I went and would sometimes spray different scents on the mask to make it smell nice. Smell, above all other senses, will remind me of Covid and my time as a Campus Safety Officer.
• 
  2020-09-09

  The smells of the campus silenced

  The vibrant community around San Francisco State was the main factor why I decided to move into Park Merced. The ability to walk to campus each day or ride my bike with other students was exciting to see riding skateboards or bikes while smelling coffee or energy drinks was common. The smell on campus with the wide variety of food and snacks was common to every part of the campus early or late. However, this all changed once Covid was originally announced and students and staff started leaving the campus and area and the sights and sounds of people and food on the campus were silent. The campus now remained silent and the smells of burritos and coffee were gone along with students walking to campus. The residents who used to sit outside and occasionally sat outside reading papers disappeared. The air while cleaner breathing because of the lack of air was soon polluted by the fires in California leaving a red mist that made the air smell like burnt wood. The pandemic changed so many people's lives and it is important to recognize the impact mentally and physically people have suffered. The pandemic silenced the campus and the community silencing the site and sounds while removing the smells that the campus was known for.
• 
  2020-05-12

  Smell and taste disorders during COVID‐19 outbreak: Cross‐sectional study on 355 patients, Dell’Era, Valeria ; Farri, Filippo ; Garzaro, Giacomo ; Gatto, Miriam ; Aluffi Valletti, Paolo ; Garzaro, Massimiliano, 2020 (Hoboken, John Wiley and Sons, Inc. Head & neck, 2020-07, Vol.42 (7), p.1591-1596).

  2. Description: Among the most commonly observed effects of Covid-19 on patients are deteriorations (temporary or permanent) of taste and smell (Dell’Era et al. 2020, p. 1591). During the Italian Covid-19 outbreak in 2020, Novara University Hospital conducted a cross-sectional study examining the extent of smell-and-taste related disorders among patients confirmed to have contracted the virus. Results from the study suggest that an overwhelming share of patients experience sharp alterations in both senses, the severity of which differs from subject to subject. While extreme symptoms disappeared a fortnight after subjects participated in the study, a portion of respondents reported lingering sensory effects resulting from the virus (Dell’Era et al. 2020, pp. 1591-96).
• 
  2021-05-15

  South Africa Trains Dogs to Detect COVID-19 at Airports

  In South Africa, a private security company that deploys dogs to sniff out illegal drugs and explosives at airports now is teaching the canine corps to detect COVID-19. Romain Chanson checks out the situation for VOA in this report from Johannesburg, narrated by VOA’s Carol Guensburg.
• 
  2021-07-02

  No kids in the hallways

  I work as a director of a Boys & Girls Club in Cleveland, Tennessee. For anyone unfamiliar with the Boys & Girls Club, we are a Department of Education-certified after-school and summer program. Our organization is comprised of fourteen Clubs across four counties and, prior to COVID-19, we served over 1,000 Club members every day. Immediately following the outbreak of COVID-19, the hallways of our Clubs were empty. In a matter of hours, an invaluable local resource became inaccessible to hundreds of families who depended on our support. This was an extremely difficult time. Fortunately, our organization has an exceptional leadership team. From the moment our doors closed in March 2020, our administration began working around the clock to adapt our program into one that was both virtual and accessible. Clubs began having daily ZOOM calls with their members, calling families to just check in, making silly YouTube videos and connecting with teen members on safe and secure social media platforms. Even further, our administration ensured that no one was laid off and employees still had plenty of work to do. With our hallways emptied, we were divided into small teams that could easily work in a socially-distanced manner and were assigned to a number of facility maintenance projects. We knew that one day our Club members would return, and when they did, we wanted their Clubs to be fresh, clean, and updated. I was assigned to the floors team. This team was charged with stripping and waxing all of the floors in each of the fourteen Clubs. For about eight weeks straight, I became overly familiar with the burning, sterile scent of Zep Heavy Duty Floor Products. Even with an industrial mask, the sharp and bitter aroma of the cleaner was pungent. Now, anytime the floors need to be done in my own building, I am taken back to those 14 weeks there were no kids in the hallways. Fortunately, we re-opened our doors to our Club members on June 1st, 2020 with strict health and safety protocols, and only at half capacity. We remained at half capacity until June 1st, 2021 when we were finally able to fully re-open our sites. Our numbers have still not returned to what they were, but we are slowly getting there. The important thing to us is that we are able to safely provide much-needed services to our community.
• 
  2021-07-01

  A New Normal

  The COVID-19 pandemic came upon our lives in what seemed a very sudden fashion, forcing us into quarantine and changing our habits. Almost suddenly, the noisy, bustling streets became empty. The sounds of cars with people commuting to work disappeared. The friendly faces I’d see at work would be traded for a face on a screen. Remaining at home gave me both a sense of security and a feeling of isolation and loneliness. During brief outings to get necessities at the grocery store, it became odd to see each other with our faces covered. There was a feeling of unease as we made our way through the aisles, doing our best to remain six feet apart. Many times, I often felt disconnected, and initially a little wary of others. Were they infected or asymptomatic? Was I? I missed seeing my friends. I missed the shared meals we would have in a busy, noisy restaurant. I missed the smell of coffee brewing at my local coffee shop while I typed away on my laptop. So many experiences that we took for granted, disappeared in an instant. Over time, this way of living became our new normal. The scent of hand sanitizer and antibacterial cleaner became a regular part of my life. Hearing the regular news reports on the rising death toll was devastating. The feeling of the mask on my face as I made brief forays out into society gave me the comfort in knowing I was protecting others in case I was an asymptomatic carrier. I still shudder at those who express the sentiment that the masks were a form of oppression. I viewed it as a small sacrifice for the benefit of the many. As we appear to be a downslope to overcoming the virus, I recently remarked to a friend about how it now feels strange to think about “getting back to normal”. Our normal has undoubtably changed. And many of us have changed with it.
• 
  2020-04

  Clean Hands and Empty Spirits

  This story is a small snapshot into how I felt mentally, and smelled, heard, and touched physically during April 2020. It talks about how the smells and noises around me at the time contributed to my worsening mental state and the feeling of hopelessness. This is important to me because it was this time that I learned that I am mentally stronger than I think and that I can get through rough patches with the help of my husband. It was not a fun experience, but I grew from it.
• 
  2020-09-08

  First Day of School Scents

  September 8, 2020 was the first day of school at my regional high school and I was beginning my third year as a teacher. As always, the night before the first day of school was marked by butterflies, but this time around, the butterflies were not due to the excitement and hecticness of the first day, but due to fear. As someone who social distanced to an extent unmatched by most of my peers, coming to school on the first day terrified me, as I was concerned with putting myself around so many other people in such a small room, specifically high school students who certainly enjoyed more social interaction over the summer than I did. However, as a teacher, I had to come in with a smile on my face, as you can see in the picture, despite the immense fear I was feeling in the pit of my stomach. What I remember most clearly is the smell of the school. The hallways were filled with hand sanitizer dispensers which released a scent that could overpower all else. Individual classrooms were packed with cleaning supplies and Lysol wipes which I had to clean each desk with between periods. What is so shocking is that more than anything, it is these smells that I associate with the fear I felt that first day of school. Though that first day was one of the most fear-inducing days of my life, the year ended up being incredibly rewarding and my students and I together helped each other through one o f the mo st difficult years of our lives. Though originally nervous to teach in 2020, I am incredibly grateful to have been able to conquer this year with my students by my side. Hopefully someday I will not have such an adverse reaction to the smell of hand sanitizer.
• 
  2020-12-04

  Henshin! The nostalgia wanes and reality sets in.

  Overcrowded movie theaters, expensive popcorn, and escapism entertainment made for the best days as a child of the 20th century. Surrounded by an ever growing crisis of climate change, the rising political tensions domestic and foreign; nearly every issue fades away as the lights dim in a theater, directing all attention to the action set pieces of the latest blockbuster hit. Unfortunately now, there are no lights to dim, no popcorn to smell, the once intense reverberating sound and art of audio mixing, is now forced to protrude from broken TV sound bars. The magnificent subtle nuances of orchestral scores, become muffled by the yelling of neighbors. As basic and selfish as it may seem, Covid-19 served as a reminder of the unobtainable nostalgia and senses that surround my past, the art of escapism through film. In 2020 I witnessed the passing of loved ones, relationships dwindle, and ironically the comfort of escapism...has now escaped me. Movie theaters were closed, the discomfort of the slightly course and rough woven stitched seats, became a desperate dream, a return to normalcy. The artificial smell of buttered popcorn, along with the overpriced snacks, became memories of an easier past. I wrote Henshin, as a manifestation of the changes of Covid-19. It isn't necessarily that films can never be enjoyed again, but the ability to truly escape, is gone. We view, smell, feel and see things differently now. The bombastic sensation within a theater, sharing the laughs, cries and emotions with other children, is now replaced with a constant checking of watches to return again to the world. The smell of artificial flavoring may be gone forever. Loved ones will never carry us out of a theater again. The inconvenient sounds of crowds, machines, and other viewers, are now replaced with conventional house noises. Undoubtedly film will return, theaters will open up again, but the once wholesome experience from the past has changed. The families laughs have now turned to cries, quoting movies with one another has turned to editing eulogies, smells are now memories instead of new experiences.
• 
  2020-10-28

  Pierogis and Kielbasa: Sound and Smell During COVID-19

  Before the pandemic and the subsequent lockdowns began, hearing or seeing a loved one seemed almost a certainty. Although I worried for the safety of all my friends and family, I was most concerned with the well-being of my aging, immunocompromised grandmother. As a daughter of Eastern European immigrants, she was accustomed to eating ethnic Polish food. Throughout my childhood, she would kindly make pierogis and kielbasa sausage for me and my sister. The savory aroma of pierogis and kielbasa sausage cooking in sauerkraut inundated the senses. With the onset of the pandemic, however, my life, as with so many others, changed. Unfortunately, my grandmother is not accustomed to using video-chat services; however, hearing her voice over the phone or social-distancing on her porch allowed me to maintain contact, hear her voice, and smell the wonderful aroma of the food she always made for me as a child. Although momentary, the loss of hearing my grandmother’s voice as well as her delicious food made me realize how important it is to cherish the connections you have with your loved ones. During a time of uncertainty, tragedy, and disconnection, a loved one’s voice (as well as the food they make) can provide an emotional uplift.
• 
  2020-02-14

  Happy Valentine's Day! We have COVID!

  For Valentine's Day 2021, I gave my boyfriend COVID! What a great gift, right? The week before I started to feel down, congested, and I had a sore throat. As it was mid-February, I thought it was just a regular cold, like I get every year. So I really thought it was no big deal, so my boyfriend and I spent the weekend together like normal. But on Feb 14th, I woke up, got in the shower, and realized I couldn't smell any of my soaps! I ran out of the shower in a panic and went to the kitchen to smell all the food we had. I couldn't smell the onion, the salsa, the garlic powder, the coffee...nothing! So we decided to cancel our date plans for the day and went to get tested. My test came back positive so we went in the quarantine together, as we had spent the last four days together. At this point, I was getting exponentially sicker and laid in bed for the next 5 days. About 3 days after I lost my sense of smell, I lost my sense of taste, but only for about 24 hours. What a terrible week! Hopefully, Valentine's Day 2022 is better for us!
• 
  2021-05-04

  My Dreammmmmm

  This was an assignment in Paula Flynn's 5th grade class at Franklin Elementary School in Santa Monica, CA. Universal Studios Color everywhere, and many people swarming around The sun shining on all of our faces as we wait in line The sounds of people whooping and hollering as they go on rides The smells of the giant donuts in Simpson Land. I enjoy spending the day at an awesome amusement park When will I go again? Universal Studios
• 
  2021-01-16

  Texas family without sense of smell escapes house fire

  WACO, Texas -- A Texas family suffering the effects of COVID-19 is safe after their home caught fire, and they weren't able to smell the smoke. Fortunately, a fourth family member, a 17-year-old girl, was able to alert her three relatives and get them to safety. The one-story home caught fire in Waco Friday morning with four people inside. Three people at the home where Bianca Rivera lives lost their sense of smell due to the virus and were oblivious to the danger that was consuming the structure. The teen told KWTX-TV she smelled something burning around 2 a.m. "I started smelling burnt plastic, and that's when I got more alert and ran outside of my room," Rivera told the station. "I couldn't even pass the hallway because it was filled with so much smoke." "I would just do whatever anyone else would do for their own family," Rivera told KWTX. "I just wanted to get everyone else safe and alive that's all I wanted that's all I wanted was to keep everyone alive. I don't really count myself a hero." The family members escaped with their lives, but weren't able to save much else. The Red Cross and other relatives are helping the family as they recover from COVID-19 and a destroyed home.
• 
  2021-02-04

  The Emotional Toll of the Loss of Smell

  When weighing the various outcomes of contracting Covid-19, the loss of smell seemed rather low on the list. Smell always ranked rather low in the hierarchy of the five senses. Sense of smell was always the go to answer in the childhood ice breaker “if you had to lose one of your five senses, which would you choose and why?” The lowly sense of smell seemed the least important. And in the Covid-19 experience, this strange symptom seemed to pale in comparison with being put on a ventilator, going in a coma, or losing one’s life. However, this article on the emotional impact of losing one’s sense of smell is a reminder that the aftermath of Covid-19, and the very ability to smell, is more complicated than one could imagine. As numerous survivors attest, the loss of smell is disorienting and depressing. It is not simply the inability to taste food, or coping with ordinary smells that are now offensive. Scents are tied to our memories, and many survivors relate losing their sense of smell to losing their sense of self. As this article explains, many survivors are turning to smell training in hopes of regaining a part of themselves that many of us never gave a second thought to prior to this pandemic.
• 
  2021-01-22

  Symptoms

  Covid-19 has a lot of symptoms that range from common to severe and life threatening. Some common ones consist of: coughing, loss of smell or taste, sore throat, fever and more. A severe one is: blueish lips and face. Coronavirus can be commonly mistaken for a fever or a common cold and anyone showing symptoms should be tested.
• 2020

  Symptoms of Covid

  The first symptoms of covid that I heard about was lost sense of taste and smell. After that I heard one of the symptoms was fatigue and shortness of breath. Then it was fever, cough, headache, vomiting, and sore throat. I also heard about diarrhea, muscle aches, and runny nose. The worst symptoms I heard about was pain in the chest, bluish lip or face, and difficulty breathing.
• 2021-01-24

  Welcome to My Non-Smelly World

  I am currently in the midst of a once in a lifetime experience that I never thought would occur. First, allow me to lay the foundation for this submission. I was born with a condition called Isolated Congenital Anosmia. In laymen's terms, I was born without a sense of smell. This is a rare disorder that affects between 1%-5% of the overall population.* I rarely volunteer that I cannot smell as it involves laborious conversations answering questions as to why and how it could have happened, what foods I can taste, or if I am sad or angry that I have this condition. People are well-meaning, but it gets old repeating this conversation multiple times, so I avoid it like the plague. Wait. Too soon? My preference to keep this close to the vest changed with the arrival of COVID-19. Those who have still not regained their smell after recovering from the virus are now temporarily just like me. It is surreal. Not so secretly, I admit I feel a tiny bit of satisfaction that they are experiencing a glimpse of my day to day life. As a result, I am now feeling the odd desire to tell anyone and everyone about my condition. I feel compelled to share advice and comments with this segment of society while wearing a hat bearing the words, "Welcome to my world!" Also, ideas of creating a Zoom course titled "How to Survive the No-Smell Apocalypse!" frequently come to mind. I can include concepts such as enlisting close friends or neighbors whom you force to smell your house before having people over, obsessively take the garbage out since you do not know if it smells, or the joys of surviving a dutch oven with zero consequence. Also, I will share my list of candle scents that anyone would enjoy smelling in your home. Hint: There is only one, vanilla. Trust me. I have tried them all using my family as guinea pigs. Finally, I feel like the art of 'fake smelling' is underrated and must now be remedied for society to interact with some sense of normalcy during this otherwise chaotic time. I will demonstrate the proper and accepted social reactions when smelling various odors such as used diapers, spoiled foods, lotions, perfumes, or (insert all world smells). The creme de la creme is learning how to emote false elation at the announcement of another semi-annual Bath and Bodyworks candle sale or when Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Lattes come around again. The ability to avoid drawing attention to yourself via 'fake smelling' cannot be underestimated. In conclusion, this pandemic has provided a unique opportunity for others to experience life through my nose. It is not something I would ever wish permanently on others, yet knowing that it is a temporary condition, I have found it to be a bit of respite in a dark year full of so many unknowns. Now can someone confirm whether my Jeep honestly smells like stinky teenage feet or if my husband is messing with me again? *Disclaimer: This measurement may not still be accurate but comes from articles and journals I have read over the years.
• 2021-01-22

  My Experience with COVID Symptoms

  When COVID-19 had just started I had heard a lot of people had gotten sick, but no one that I had known. Fast forward a couple of months into the pandemic I get the news that my friend had gotten COVID when I had just seen her a couple of days ago. She has five siblings, one of them was a toddler, her older sister who had a one-year-old was staying with them, and she was pregnant for the second time. Thank god everyone ended up all right including the baby who had not even been born yet. Out of the 9 people that were living in their house at the time only two of them got it bad. The second oldest siblings along with her mom had body aches, a fever, a headache, lost their sense of taste, had a couch, stuffed nose, and couldn't get out of bed for a week. The rest of them only had a cough and a stuffed nose. Lucky they weren't infectious yet when we saw them so my family did not contract the virus from them. Another time this happened, my dad had a business meeting with his co-worker. Three days late his co-worker had tested positive for coronavirus. Once again our minds filled with worry. My grandma was staying with us at the time and because of her age, she was high risk so we sent her along with my uncle to a hotel nearby our house. We waited till we reached the five-day mark and my parents went and got tested. Luckily they tested negative and my grandma and uncle came back home and we celebrated the New Year all together with some negative COVID tests.
• 2021-01-21

  Covid Symptoms

  The symptoms of Covid are very similar to the flu. For example for Covid and the flu, you might have a high temperature. Covid might also cause the victim to lose taste or smell. Headache is also another common symptom of Covid can also cause coughing. I don't know of anyone that got Covid. These are the symptoms of coronavirus
• 2020-07-17

  Symptoms

  My great aunt had covid. Her first symptom was the loss of taste and smell. She had the virus very bad and had almost all of the symptoms by the time the virus went away which included Fever or chills, Cough, Shortness of breath or difficulty breathing, Fatigue, Muscle or body aches, Headache, New loss of taste or smell, Sore throat, Congestion or runny nose, vomiting, and trouble breathing. She was hospitalized for about 3 weeks.
• 2021-01-21

  Friends/Relatives with COVID-19

  During Thanksgiving, my grandparents got COVID-19. My family was going to meet with them for Thanksgiving, but since they had COVID-19, we decided not to. They got over it relatively easily. The only two ways it affected them was they lost their sense of taste and smell and they were very tired. Usually they get up at about 5:00 am and stay up until about 8:00 pm to 9:00 pm, but when they had COVID-19, they got up at about 9:00 am and could only make it to about 3:00 pm.
• 
  2020-11-10

  Made the worst discovery of my life

  Woman works with covid patients and wakes up one morning to discover she can no longer smell. In the video she goes around the house trying to smell different items. Her face becomes more distraught as she realizes she is not smelling anything. This is a popular Tic Tok video type right now. Many people's first sign that something is amiss is the loss of smell and taste.
• 2020-03-01

  Daily life at an Air Force Major Command

  Daily life at Head Quarters (HQ) Air Force Global Strike Command (AFGSC) before COVID-19 and its restrictions was full of sounds and constant movement. It was customary to walk the halls and hear keypads beeping, and door locks clicking or overhear conversations as you pass people in the halls. Meetings were full of people, and the subtle roar of conversation was only stopped by the entrance of a General officer or other meeting chairpeople. As the restrictions for COVID-19 began to roll across the country, AFGSC was quick to implement them. First came a stop movement for personnel and a restriction of movements. There would be no or severely limited Permeant Change of Stations, and all temporary duty (TDY) was canceled for the foreseeable future. All personnel was to limit their office spaces to allow for six feet of distances and, if not capable of initiating telework procedures (which was an accomplishment in itself). This was the moment that life changed at HQ AFGSC. There would be fewer beeps and clicks. There would be no hallway conversations overheard because the hallways were nearly empty on a day-to-day basis. There were no more in-person meetings resulting in the muting of the subtle roars of conversations and the sudden silences created as meetings started. However, there was a new element created from COVID-19, a smell everywhere you went. Cleaning and self-sanitization ramped up at AFGSC. Every office you entered now had a hand sanitization station on a post or a wall. The restrooms and common areas cleaning increased, resulting in a lasting scent of bleach and other strong cleaners. But still, the most surprising thing was the silence that COVID-19 created in an ordinarily bustling Command.
• 2021-01

  An Old Gray Piece of Cloth

  Gabriel Rheaume’s Sensory history contribution to COVID-19 Archive I would like to submit my gray, cotton face mask to the COVID-19 Archive. It is perhaps not as the most important item, but certainly it is the most present item for me throughout this pandemic. At almost a full year into this adventure, everyone has a keen familiarity with and opinion of face masks. I got this one as a gift. It feels about the same as getting socks on Christmas, except more useful. I have used this thing every single day unless I forget it—which sends me into a chaotic panic. I am a teacher in a suburb of Nashville, TN. Our school district insists on teaching in person, despite having alarmingly high infection rates in our community. This mask is now part of my daily uniform, a non-negotiable. It serves as a role model for students. A sign that their health is of paramount concern to us. It is part of everything I do. I have dozens of paper replacements in my desk. Those aren’t as good. They straps hurt your ears. The cloth ones are better, more comfortable. I thought about getting one with my favorite band’s logo, but I am going to stick with this old reliable gray, cotton mask. The smell of this mask will haunt me the rest of my life. I wash it multiple times per week. It often smells like laundry detergent. That is a good thing. However, by the end of the day it often smells like whatever I had for lunch. The masks gets hot. It is blasted with my carbon dioxide for eight hours straight. It gets really bad when I have to lecture during the day. When you inhale sharply to talk, it sucks in the material. I’ve learned how to breathe differently when I have the mask on. Sometimes I just pinch the end and hold it with my fingers while I talk. I can rarely take it off. I panic if I forget to put it on when I leave my classroom to go anywhere. Who would have ever thought this little cloth mask would be so important? I often doubt that it is effective at preventing the spread or contraction of infection. I am certainly NOT an anti-masker. But it’s a piece of cloth. I guess that it’s better than nothing. This gray cotton face mask, sometimes imbued with the glorious smell of fresh linen in the breeze or Last night’s roast and mashed potatoes has become a source of loathing and resentment, but simultaneously an anti-viral security blanket (if only in my imagination). Yet, I can’t wait to get rid of this vile thing.
• 2021-01-09

  Lionel Trains & Billy Joel

  Last Saturday night, my folks came to visit, bringing beef stew and, yet another birthday gift for our now 3 year daughter Lennon (her birthday was a week before and they’d already showered her with gifts at that time). Of course, we’ve kept a very close circle since March last year, and that has become increasingly more important since, now my wife is 8 months pregnant, son on the way. Our reality being quite different from the norm this past year is of course, not unique to us, but had Covid not been a thing, last Saturday night, it can be counted on, that we would have been at a boisterous gathering, hosted by family members of one side or the other. My wife’s family and my own; they’re strong in numbers and lack modesty, but not volume. We miss that, but the small, quieter gatherings that the necessity of the moment has brought moments that might have been missed. That’s too much of a lead in, so I’ll make the point more brief, When my parents came, the oven cleaner was burning off. My wife and mother brought attention to it. But the smell brought me back to my childhood. That’s exactly what I said, and I looked at my dad, because I knew that he’d be the one that knew what I was talking about, though I wasn’t necessarily sure what I was talking about. This briefly interrupted our trying to construct a Troll castle (with way too many tiny parts!) or something, that my parents had just gotten for their granddaughter. But then, dad said, “Lionel Trains” That was it! The toy trains on the track that my father, brother and I used to do when we were kids. It brought us back, that was the smell. It’s probably not healthy, but it was a really nice moment. Ok, that made me think of a time that my brother recognized a smell from childhood. I was like 12, my brother 14, I think it was my first concert. My father had taken us to see Billy Joel at the Spectrum in Philadelphia, we had fun. After the show, walking through the parking lot to the car, my brother said, “What’s that smell? I remember it from when we were little.” My dad said, “That’s pot.”
• 
  2021-06-14

  Embracing the Plants

  Once the pandemic was in full swing, food became rather scarce out in the county where I live. Frozen meals? Gone. Frozen vegetables? Gone. Meat? Gone. Dairy products? Sparse. What I could find in abundance were fresh fruit and vegetables. Largely because these do not store long term and people were stocking up on everything that they could hoard for the long haul. Could I really sustain my meat-loving family of 4 on fresh fruits and vegetables to help stretch our very thin stock of meats and dairy products? I have included some basic recipes that I used to help get through the pandemic. This massive change in diet left a lasting impact on my experience of the pandemic through my sense of smell, taste, and hearing. Meals no longer smelled like warm cooked meat with roasting potatoes. Meals became light and fresh. My house began smelling more like a garden every time I prepared a meal. I also no longer smelled the warmth of the stove or the smell of a pan heating up, since we chose to eat a lot of the plants and fruits in a more raw style to get the maximum nutritional value. The taste of meals and snacks changed from processed foods to natural snacks like nuts, dates, and dried fruit. I could taste the change from the pandemic. Everyday noises that would occur in my pre-pandemic household were no longer present in my pandemic household. No longer was there the sound of the oven turning on, the microwave running, or oil popping in the pan on the stove top. Instead, the new normal sounds were that of the food processor to make hummus, the sound of the blender making smoothies, and the sharp tap of the knife colliding with the cutting board. The recipes I chose to include are ones that we started with that have changed the way we eat. These were the easiest to sustain with readily available produce in my rural area.
• 2021-01-14

  Sensory History: What Does The Plague Year Smell Like?

  If someone asked me ten years from now the defining smell that I remember from the plague year, I would quickly respond with hand-sanitizer. Before the start of the pandemic, it was the smell of bleach and Pine-sol that reminded me of those bygone days when my mom would wake up early on a Saturday to open all the windows and scrub the house from top to bottom because “cleanliness was next to godliness” as she would say. In the past, the smell of bleach and Pine-sol had come to mean a sense of cleanliness and the simpler days of childhood, where my biggest fear was missing the latest Power Rangers episode. However, hand-sanitizer mixed with its scent of alcohol and strong perfume has now become the smell that I relate to cleanliness. Hand-sanitizer has become that essential item in my purse that I cannot leave the house without first checking to see if I have more than one bottle. When I leave a public space, the first thing I reach for is not my car keys or my cellphone; instead, it is my Bath & Body Works Pocketbac Sanitizer. It has become an accessory that matches my outfits, masks, and even daily perfume choices. This past fall, when I celebrated my birthday, one of my most exciting gifts was not my seasonal favorite body spray, Sweet Cinnamon Pumpkin, but the hand-sanitizer that shared its name. Hand sanitizer has become a safety net and tool to make venturing in public spaces with high touch areas a bit easier. While handwashing, social-distancing, and proper face coverings are the most effective way to prevent the spread of Covid-19, hand sanitizers can hold one over until they can wash their hands properly. Anyone with children can agree that hand-sanitizer is a necessary tool because kids touch everything.
• 
  2021-01-15

  Out of the Woodwork: Innovation of Sanitation in 2020

  A self-account of the exploding market of hand sanitizer and the smell thereof
• 
  2020-04

  Banana Muffins

  When the pandemic began, the company I work for sent us all to work from home. While I did some baking and cooking before, I took it upon myself to grow and learn more. Plus, in the office we usually had some sort of food available, and now I had to provide that for myself. I began looking up recipes to make at home that were fast and easy, yet really good. I stumbled on this recipe and now it is my go to recipe. The smell from them baking and after they come out of the oven is great, and they don't take too much time. The smell lingers in the house the rest of the day as well, and the I love the flavor of these muffins.
• 
  2021-01-14T18:43:30

  The Sounds, Smells, and Experiences of a COVID Graduation

  As the year 2020 ushered in my family and I had many events we were looking forward to, one event was my son’s high-school graduation. Once COVID hit his ceremony got postponed, and then it was turned into a drive-thru graduation ceremony. I felt happy my son’s graduation ceremony was still happening, but sad for both my son and me too. Since, my son would miss out on the traditional aspects of a high-school graduation ceremony, and I felt sad for myself because I did not get to attend my own high-school graduation; so it had meant a lot to me to see him experience what I did not get to at a traditional high-school graduation ceremony. On the day of my son’s drive-thru graduation ceremony, I was driving and my hands were dry and slippery from the hand sanitizer, I constantly put on for protection from COVID, both factors therefore made it hard to focus totally on the visuals of the event; and also impacted my ability to get a lot of video and pictures at the event. These circumstances I feel made me fixate on all the sounds and smells just as much as the visuals in front of me while experiencing the graduation. While waiting in the car line to get to the graduation stage the graduation speeches were streamed from a local radio station. The speeches I heard given by chosen student speakers referenced at times the sadness they felt due to the senior events cancelled due to COVID. When usually speakers at graduations express sadness, but the class of 2020 had a unique sadness and that is the effects COVID had on their senior year. As my son and I approached the commencement stage we both put our masks on, the smells of my car were replaced by the stale air I breathed within my mask that I had become all too familiar with since the start of COVID. My son got out of the car to walk across the commencement stage. The sounds I heard from the car were kind of distant, and made me feel like I was watching the ceremony from a different location. At the end of the day, while watching my son walk across the graduation stage, all my feelings and different observations before the event subsided and I felt nothing but proud of my son. Along with I felt grateful for the people who put together the graduation, for some of the unique sensory experiences I may not have focused on as much in pre-COVID times, and for the event since it could have been canceled because of COVID. If anything COVID implications provided many unique aspects to my son’s graduation ceremony that may come to give more meaning to it in the long run then a traditional graduation ceremony. The video clip I submitted is one of a few captured memories I have of the graduation; and it’s an example of the distant sounds of the graduation I heard while viewing it from my car.
• 2020-04-27

  COVID-19 and Daycare

  I worked at a daycare in Hoover, Alabama for 5 years that provided care to over 200 children. When the state went on lockdown, our numbers dwindled down to 60 as we were only allowing children of first responders to stay. All other children were either left to their parents, babysitters, family, friends, etc. I was a lead infant teacher for babies 6-12 months. I normally have about 10 but on my first day of work after lockdown was initiated, I only had 2 and that instantly meant less noise. I have a schedule I keep but each activity lasted half the time it normally does. It gave the babies more time to play and explore but for me, I had to begin the process of deep cleaning. We were issued new cleaning products and if there was a time when you weren't busy with children, you had to clean. We kept our masks on all day for the children's sake but it limited my breathing since I wasn't used to wearing one. Add that to new, stronger cleaning products and it makes for a difficult day. I experienced the normal smells of infant care that I have for the last 5 years but the new, stronger cleaning smells altered my olfactory system. I was worried how the babies and I would react to it after we've been exposed to the chemicals for a long period of time. We weren't allowed to open our doors or windows so the smell stayed with us all day. It gave me headaches and made my babies cranky. It was a learning process with the new sanitizing methods and we all finally got a rhythm down and requested that we be allowed to open our windows and doors while cleaning. It helped us keep our kids and ourselves healthier and more conscientious about our cleaning habits. With less children around, we were able to clean thoroughly and get everything in order but it felt less like a daycare without all the noise. We worked diligently so that when lockdown was over, we could welcome back our loud and crazy kids to a new, sanitized environment.
• 2020-12-24

  COVID Smells

  My family had been fortunate to avoid COVID 19 for ten months. However, in December 2020, that changed. My symptoms began with a minor headache which, on day two, morphed into a minor cough. I was fortunate to never be hospitalized, but on day three, my experience underwent a strange and unexpected change. I began to smell the strong smell, of what could only be described as ammonia. I was once a cat person, and remember the smell of cat urine on a carpet or furniture if left untreated. This smelled exactly like that. My first reaction was to inquire of my family, and no one could smell it but I, which only served to make the experience all the more strange. When everyone can smell the same smell, it’s one thing but when only you can smell it you begin to questions your sanity. The smell of ammonia was strongest outside and somewhat subdued when indoors. It lasted for one day and was gone the next but it was strong to the point of discomfort.
• 
  2021-01-11

  Pizza and The Old Stone Church

  Lockdown restrictions to indoor dining at restaurants, which prevents friends from gathering and socializing in familiar locations.
• 
  2019-03-17

  The Smell of Bread

  I have uploaded a story of scent. During the first part of the stay-at-home order in Washington state, March 2019, I baked fresh bread daily to help my family during the food shortages. The amazing aroma of bread filled my home and brought hope to my family that everything would be well.
• 
  2020-05-28

  Trail Runs

  A close-knit family can mean a lot of noise, a lot of home cooking, and a lot of downright work. Care in a large family doesn’t understand the word pandemic or isolation; it only understands that you’re there or you’re not. COVID meant to my family the opposite of what it meant to everyone else on the planet, we would need to be physically closer to help care for those who need it. Instead of focusing on the smells and noises caring for others, I choose to remember the feel of damp earth under my feet and the smell of new ferns in the forest. I remember the whisper of water in the creek signaling the halfway point on Thursdays or the smell of the rainwater pond at the end of Tuesday. I can laugh at the smell of a wet dog; who got into both and had to be bathed twice a week for the entire summer. We took turns going for morning runs or hikes so that one person would always be home with my grandparents. My grandfather was needing more and more supervision daily that my grandmother couldn’t handle on her own. Ironically enough without COVID, we wouldn’t have been able to do the things we did. Now, instead of remembering the smell of hand sanitizer; I remember the clean air in my lungs and the smell of the trail on those morning runs in northern Arizona. I have downloaded a sound effect from https://www.freesoundslibrary.com/mountain-river-sounds/ that reminds me of one of the places I went to get away from the chaos of COVID.
• 
  2021-05

  Smelly Hands Are Clean Hands

  I welcomed my first child into the world at the very beginning of the COVID-19 crisis in the United States, leaving my fiancé and me isolated at home with a newborn. After three months, we desperately needed a night away from our precious bundle of joy. The only restaurant open was a sketchy looking German beer garden blasting accordion music, but we were just thrilled to be spending some adult time together while our son was with my mother for the evening. Upon walking into the restaurant, I readily pumped some off-brand hand sanitizer into my hand, and nudged my fiancé to do the same. I rubbed my hands together as we were seated, and breathed a sigh of relief that we were free from the colicky cries of our beloved child for the night. Suddenly my nostrils filled with the stench of bottom shelf tequila. The hand sanitizer wasn’t simply off-brand, it had been homemade by the restaurant. It was as if whomever had concocted the sanitizer was convinced that the best way to ward off the COVID-19 virus (and the fear attributed to it), was to completely bombard the olfactory system with the smell of alcohol. My fiancé remarked that because the sanitizer smelled so horribly, it must be killing all of the germs; unknowingly, he became a perfect example of how individuals have come to associate certain scents, like alcohol, with the illusion of cleanliness. Thinking back on that experience, I find myself pondering just how effective their homemade hand sanitizer really was. Or, more than likely, was it a last ditch effort (forced into action by society’s panic buying of cleansers), to provide their customers a sense of security through unconscious sensory associations.
• 
  2021-01-11

  The Smell of the Pandemic, Face Coverings in 2020

  One of the longest lasting memories for me of the Pandemic will be the olfactory association I will forever have between the smell of musty, soiled fabric and this period of time. The combination of coffee, toothpaste, sweat and laundry detergent was a defining one for me this year. As a high school teacher and coach, my days were long and required extensive periods of lecture based discussion and non negotiable face coverings. While the requirement was understandable from a safety perspective, the result was a facemask that always either smelled like it needed washing or had just been washed. For that reason, these scents will always remind me of this period
• 2021-01-11

  Covid

  I first learned that the cause of this virus was that people stored coffee beans that made a bad smell witch caused a disease that was deadly and there could have been someone who got sick from somewhere else and brought it to everyone then and that's how everyone got sick all because of people traveled by ships they probably picked up diseases then. I think it was trying to kill people so they lower the population of the people there. No, my opinion did not change. My experiences with discovering this disease were kinda relevant right now we're kinda similar to each other because we are going through the disease.
• 
  2020-10-18

  Smoke During Covid-19

  For me much of the pandemic has been an abstract concept. Our senses cannot really alert us to the presence of Covi-19. The exception I suppose would be the presence of masks but that is not a constant reminder. I have only worn masks when going in and out of stores. My sensory memory of the pandemic is four months of the smell of smoke. I noticed the smoke yesterday and again this morning. Since the California wildfires started in June there has been an almost constant smell of smoke in the air. We also get large grass fires in this area as well so there is usually some type of fire burning. I believe that the sense of smell can at times be a much more powerful sense than sight. I will remember the smoke long after Covid-19 is gone.
• 
  2020-10-15

  Mask Life

  In late January, most people around me considered Covid-19 to be the next "avian flu". It was not taken as a serious threat at the time and I even remember my colleagues having a "corona" party on the roof of our building where we all drank corona and made jokes, as we unknowingly awaited the worst pandemic in a century. As the months went on and things seemed to escalate daily, I tried as hard as I could to resist going anywhere that required a mask. I couldn't fully accept all of this and really only left my house to run or take walks, I was working from home and could order groceries or food at any time of day or night so it was an easy thing for me to reject at the time. Eventually I had to give in because I needed to occasionally stop by the office so I ordered some nice black cloth masks that could house HEPA filters. It took much getting use to but wasn't terrible wearing the masks and as I began to venture out more and more, it started to become routine. I'm on my way out, grab my sunglasses, keys and now mask, all which are kept in the same decorative bin on a table next to my front door. Come home, throw keys and mask into bin, place sunglasses on the table. Leave, grab keys and mask and sunglasses, come home, put keys and mask into the bin, sunglasses folded neatly alongside. Every day same thing, until it is something that I no longer thought about or consciously did. One day, on my quarter mile walk to the office, I smelled cinnamon. I looked around but in that part of the city there wasn't a bakery or coffee shop within a few feet, didn't see anyone walk by me and couldn't even understand how I was smelling such a strong aroma through a cloth mask with a filter. I started to realize that I couldn't even remember the last thing that I had smelled while wearing this mask, so this was definitely unusual. But like many of our fleeting daily thoughts it was just that, and by the time that I was in the elevator my mind was busy on other things. I come home, keys and mask in the bin, sunglasses on the table. Leave the next day, grab mask, keys, sunglasses and walk to work. I stop at a coffee shop on the way and again...cinnamon. Instantly I’m taken back to the previous day and asking myself, “was this what you smelled yesterday?”, but quickly realizing that I didn’t go this direction, so I hadn’t walked by this place. I get to work and again its forgotten quickly. Come home, wake up, leave for work, come home, every day the same routine and many of those days, not all though, I had at some point smelled cinnamon. Finally, one day I came home and entered the house extremely distracted, having a work conversation on my phone while fumbling with my keys and trying to take off my sunglasses off at the same time. The phone started to slip as I was approaching the “drop off table” and in my haste to catch the phone I dropped everything else onto the floor. Sometimes life forces you to slow down and this was one of those times because this was probably the first time in weeks that I was just standing next to this table and focusing. In the bin, where the masks and keys go is a stick like, brown bundle of something that first appeared to be a dehydrated plant. I picked it up and immediately could smell that thick, rich cinnamon flavor and connected dozens of fleeting, scattered thoughts to their final conclusion. My girlfriend had bought some decorative, fall scented potpourri, placed it into this bin and every day the inside of my cloth mask slept on that cinnamon bundle. My brain will never again associate the rich smell of cinnamon with fall or desserts, but now will think of masks and a global pandemic. It seems like it could be a long time before my brain can break this association and have return this spice to its proper neural connection, but sadly wearing masks is now the thing that feels normal to me. If there is any positive take away to all of this for me, its that I often realize that we are probably living through notable history right now, something that will be remembered and written about for a long time. Being that I love history and in much of what I read I usually stop and think “what was that really like in XXX place at XXX time? I wish that I could have seen it…”, I try to keep perspective and realize that one day in 100 years someone will be wondering the same thing about right now.