COVID-19 lockdown in Denmark - posted March 13 on Facebook

Day 2 of the COVID-19 lockdown. Denmark will close all its borders to travelers from abroad, from 12 noon tomorrow, March 14. The government advises Danes to avoid travelling outside the country until April 14. Danish citizens who are currently abroad – they number approximately 100,000, including teenagers currently on school excursions to places in Italy – must return immediately.

At 8:30 this morning, a nice man from the municipality rang the house to tell me that the ceremony planned for the 25th, in which I would receive my Danish citizenship accompanied by a handshake, would be postponed until further word from the authorities. Although I have completed all the requirements and my name is included in the roster of citizens naturalized in a law passed this Spring, I cannot be Danish just yet. This has nothing to do with the border closing, however, but with the requirement that all civil servants work from home.

A few minutes to 9 I put on a going-out sweater and prepared to video-meet my TOEFL-preparation students on Skype. On Wednesday, if all goes well, I will do the same for my Cambridge exam preparation students.

Photo: Prime minister Mette Frederiksen at a press con announcing the border closure. Exceptions include people who are commuting to their jobs, truck drivers transporting foodstuff, and relatives arriving to visit the critically ill.

At present 801 Danes have been infected with COVID-19.
Another decision taken by the government: to suspend non-critical hospital procedures to make way for COVID-19 patients. Photo from DR1's 7 pm broadcast today.

COVID-19 lockdown in Denmark - posted March 12 on Facebook

So, Day 1 of the COVID-19 lockdown in Denmark. The photo shows the S-train (H line) I was on en route to Copenhagen -- 9:15 am at Carlsberg Station. I had the entire car to myself for most of the trip. By this time on a regular day most of the seats are occupied. It was only last night that the lockdown was announced, so I showed up as usual to meet a corporate client-student at 10 am, just to be on the safe side. The building was closed to visitors, virtually deserted. Outside on the steps a woman was waiting for a taxi: her entire computer had been disassembled and loaded (unsuccessfully) onto the front basket of her bicycle. All set for at least two weeks in lockdown, working from home. Funnily enough, this was the day that storm-strength winds assaulted the entire country. The office I had gone to was in the Langelinie area, known to visitors as the quay where you can go outlet shopping and visit the Little Mermaid. The gusts were so strong that they carried me along and I had to half-skip, half-run to stop myself from falling flat on my face. My calf-length winter coat with the hood up acted as a sail. At some point, I had to hold on to a post to avoid being blown ... yes, blown! ... into the path of a taxi. Crossing an intersection was nerve-wracking, because I had to keep moving so as not to lose my balance in the middle of the street. It really felt like evil forces were abroad and shrieking through the land.