I have a complicated relationship with time. I’m often busy, rushing to complete what I feel I have to in whatever time I’m given—a regular workday or a lifetime. My world is full of deadlines, some of them arbitrary and self-imposed, some because, well, life, and some set by clients who want their translated message for yesterday and appreciate a quick turnaround.

I often look at the clock or at the calendar because minutes, hours, days and even years go by fast and I always want to do more.

I have a deadline when I’m travelling too—a return ticket. “Back in the days,” Feng and I used to fly on a one-way ticket and buy the return ticket when we were running out of money but even then, we kind of had some kind of deadline—a visa expiring or making it to Brazil in time for Carnival, for instance.

I had a deadline too for this trip—I was supposed to come back to Canada on March 16.

Then I ended up in Aracaju (again) with the news I no longer had a flight back to Canada. “AC 91 to Toronto, Lester B. Pearson Intl (YYZ) has been cancelled due to the impacts of the COVID-19 pandemic on aviation which includes government entry requirements, travel advisories, and local movement restrictions,” the email said.

“Buy a ticket with another airline, then!” you’re probably tempted to suggest. Normally, I’d just do that but any airline that could take me to Canada goes through the USA, and the USA an entry ban preventing travellers from Europe, the United Kingdom, Ireland… and Brazil. Also, after boarding with a negative test, I’m not paying $2,000 to be locked up in quarantine upon return in Canada.

So, for now, I’m stuck in Brazil.

Suddenly, time no longer matters.

I could have rushed to be somewhere fun for Carnival but Carnival has been cancelled. I could have rushed back to beat the new quarantine-hotel rule but Air Canada cancelled flights before I had a chance to.

Now, just like the rest of the world, I’m waiting. I’m waiting for vaccination efforts to progress, for restrictions to be lifted, for things to change for the better. Like a friend of mine put it, “at least you’re enjoying summer and the ability to go out freely.” She’s right. I have this luxury.

I’m still planning my trip around my original return date because I need a deadline but I have no idea how and when I’ll be able to go home. This is a scary thought, actually, so I try not to think too much.

Fortunately, when time no longer matters, Aracaju is a good place to be.

Time kind of stopped around here anyway.

I’m pretty sure it’s 2021 because there are a few food delivery drivers but there are people riding horses to go places as well, so who knows. It could be Monday or it could be Thursday, whatever—the city is only lively on weekends, when Brazilians from all over the state of Sergipe come party in the capital city.

I’m lost in time but I don’t feel like wasting my time.