COVID Isolation in Remote Yukon

Isolation. 

That word was pretty foreign to me before moving north. Sure, there were days I felt somewhat isolated in my downtown Vancouver apartment, but the hubbub outside would always remind me that I wasn’t. I suppose the city can leave one feeling alone, but in remote Yukon, you feel the isolation.

Before I moved, I remember thinking, “What if I have a stroke?!” (substitute ‘stroke’ with any other major medical incident, as they all went through my head). My next thought would inevitably be to calculate the distance to the nearest hospital (a mere 470 kilometres), and then to imagine myself slumped somewhere in my new remote home, slowly dying, medical assistance far away. 

(I now know that my little isolated community actually has a nursing station and a volunteer EMS crew. Suffice it to say, if I did suffer some major medical calamity, I wouldn’t be all on my own.)

Once I arrived in Beaver Creek, I remember feeling the isolation. And boy, I felt it big time. My partner, Cairo, was at work. Sometimes days and sometimes nights. 12-hour shifts. They dragged by. I’d go for walks with our new puppy, but in the dead of winter, it’s easy to walk in Beaver Creek without seeing a single soul. Days went by without real human interaction with anyone other than Cairo. I tried to learn how to cook. I did my home workouts. I kept up with my school and research work. I called my friends and family back in Vancouver. And still, the days bled into each other, the isolation enveloped me. 

Now, I’m used to the isolation. In fact, I often enjoy being alone. I like my own company, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss my family and friends.

When COVID-19 emerged in the spring of this year, words like ‘physical distancing’, ‘self-isolation’, and ‘quarantine’ did, too. A friend in Beaver Creek and I laughed – “Physical distancing is the norm here!” As much as our lives have changed in the Yukon because of COVID-19, it’s true, our geographic location lends itself to physical distancing. Most of our activities are outdoors, so maintaining the 2 metre (or 1 moose length, or 333 mosquitos, or 4 lynx) distance between folks is pretty easy.

I don’t mean to minimize the impact COVID-19 has had on our community. There is serious concern (deservedly so) about the virus striking Beaver Creek. As a largely First Nation community, Beaver Creek is home to White River elders with traditional language and cultural knowledge. We have limited medical resources in the community, and the few businesses that do exist in Beaver Creek rely largely on tourism. While COVID-19 has already affected the community in many ways, its impact could be devastating.  

All that to say, while COVID-19 has caused many to feel moreisolated, it has had the opposite effect on my life. COVID-19 brought with it an increased emphasis on remote connections, if you will. It ushered in the Zoom era, the group text check in, the virtual concerts and conferences, remote retreats, and so much more. 

Pre-COVID, I was entirely unable to attend a friend’s birthday party/wedding/baby shower back in Vancouver unless I drove 10 hours return, stayed in a hotel in Whitehorse overnight, and paid a minimum of $400 CAD for a flight. 

But now, let me tell you, the FOMO, social isolation, whatever-you-want-to-call-it is a thing of the past! Since March alone, I’ve been able to participate in virtual birthday parties, baby showers, a wedding (!!), conferences, a meditation retreat, family dinners, concerts, plays, a surprise party, a cooking tutorial, daily PhD work sessions and so much more. I’ve connected more with friends around the world than I have in the past few years. We’ve checked in, caught up, and supported each other. Although I haven’t been able to see my family as frequently as I’d have liked, I’ve been able to ‘see’ them on Zoom, and FaceTime, and WhatsApp video. I’ve managed to secure remote work in my field, thanks to COVID-19, despite worrying it wouldn’t be possible because of where I live. 

Physically, I am isolated. I live 470 kilometres from the grocery store, the hospital, and the airport. All that is the same as when I first moved north nearly two years ago. Mentally, though, my isolation is limited. I am much more comfortable alone than I was in my first weeks and months as a Northerner, but due to COVID-19, I am connected in a way I wasn’t before.