The H1N1 Epidemic: Revisiting my Fear of Germs

The other day as I was channel surfing and celebrating being back home in Arizona after another year of teaching English in Mexico City, I came across the movie Outbreak. I remember being horrified when I first saw the film at the age of 11, but having been at the epicenter of the recent H1N1 flu outbreak, I couldn’t help but find the humor in the hyperbolic movie. When I first saw the film, the scene when the infected particles of the sneeze spread throughout the movie theatre invoked fear within me about the intimacy of closely shared space. Seeing the movie now, in light of my recent experiences, helped me to realize that the non-life threatening effects of a flu outbreak can also have a deleterious impact.

There are many precautions people in Mexico City are taking to alleviate the anticipated severity of the flu when winter arrives. For example, many are stocking up on face masks, parents are teaching their kids to sneeze into their elbow instead of their hands (the 1st grade teacher at my school taught her kids to pretend that they’re Dracula, covering their mouth as if using a cape) and people are more willing to use face masks when they are sick with just any minor ailment. I have many scary memories from the first month of the outbreak: the SOLD OUT signs at pharmacies informing us that we had to search elsewhere for the face covers, the late night text messages and calls about school cancellation for an unknown disease, and early speculation as to the origin of the deadly strain of flu. Of these images, the one that will remain most vivid in my mind is that of my 5th graders applying antibacterial hand gel every few minutes in class.

As an adolescent, I was terrified of germs. My behavior wasn’t quite severe enough to be diagnosed as any pathological condition, but I remember hating to touch money, public doorknobs, and even rented sports equipment. I washed my hands often and always seemed, to some extent, to have germs on my mind. When I got to college and started to free myself of the burden of my fear of germs, I enjoyed a great sense of accomplishment. It isn’t that many days ago that I was able to hold the handlebars in the Mexico City metro and pay for my tamal before eating it on the street with no worries. I really feel quite liberated now that I can live my life without antibacterial hand gel. I reached the point where I could think about more important things: “are these men going to cede some space for me to get off at my stop?” “Sweet, I just got a strike on my last frame,” and “What is that landmark on the back of the 50 peso bill that I am casually inspecting?”

For the most part, Mexico City’s new awareness of germs and hand cleanliness marks a pivotal step in illness prevention. It is now common to see antibacterial hand gel at hotdog and taco stands on the street. You are now offered a dab of antibacterial gel upon entering a nightclub, and most schools and many public buildings have signs about proper hand washing. What worried me, though, when I saw all of the bottles of hand gel in the possession of my 5th graders, was that they might become as paranoid as I had at their age.
One thing I have learned while living in Mexico is that it’s ok to not be über clean. The flies at the tianguis, the open-air market, that hop from one raw cut of beef to another don’t seem to be harming anyone, and neither are the mayonnaise and eggs that never get refrigerated.

It took me a long time to find the right balance between cleanliness and the freedom to get a little dirty. I am both excited and optimistic about the possible decline in illnesses caused by a more germ-educated population, but I hope that people do not go overboard with the “antibacterialness” I was so preoccupied with as a young adult. It’s just not good for anyone’s immune system.