God cannot send her to Hell… she’s already there and feeling good!
Being quarantined in a Maldives villa sounds dreamy – but it’s turning into a nightmare
h ttps://www.yahoo.com/lifestyle/being-quarantined-maldivian-villa-sounds-144355846.html
By Tamara Abraham, 20 December 2021
I am writing this on the deck of my Maldives beach villa, looking out at pristine white sand fringed with palm trees and turquoise sea. It is idyllic, exactly what I hoped for when we booked a last-minute package break earlier this month with my parents, as well as my sister and her family.
There is a catch though. I’m not allowed to leave.
No sunbathing on the sand, no swimming in the sea, and definitely no wandering along the beach. A Maldives Health Protection Agency (HPA) official patrols the area with a clipboard to check. We had been due to fly home on Saturday, refreshed, restored and ready for a busy Christmas period during which we would be juggling work and family commitments…
Sounds like the tears of a trophy wife so far. Why are those beaches popular, anyway? The kind of beach where the surface is glass-flat, the water is nigh transparent and you can walk two hundred yards out to sea before your knees gets wet… why?
Don’t get me wrong, I love the beach. Snorkel, surf, kayak. Chatting with friends and beers around a campfire. Letting the dog off the leash, physically and metaphorically… good times. Just post a lookout to watch for that Morality Patrol, maybe light some diversionary fires. Not like that, you arsonists!
But why, why travel internationally to enjoy the exact same view as the most trope-ical computer desktop background ever?
Is it merely because the real-life supply of pristine, shadeless beach is limited, therefore worth many dollars?
Is it because those six-six-six-star resorts are like golf, with old fat billionaires pretending to do something while being serviced by legions of dusky slaves?
Is it because Mizz Abraham took up finger-painting landscapes along with her two-year-old? This reason would actually be respectable.
…After my mother tested positive for Covid in her pre-departure PCR (actually, my father was summoned and informed of her results; gender equality still has some way to go here), we were all put into compulsory quarantine ‘because we share a booking reference number’.
Isn’t that sweet! Big Brother is looking out for you! You didn’t really want to leave anyway! But then the consequences of your Socialist Vacay-cay kicked in.
I realise you probably hate me right now. You may even be wondering how you could fake a positive Covid test so that you can extend your holiday on an insurance company’s dime. The way omicron is spreading, chances are you wouldn’t even have to fake it.
No, I’m actually laughing. You took a vacation to an equatorial hellhole that you knew was so politically unstable that you took out an insurance policy against being able to escape it. For Christmas, no less.
One supposes that Afghanistan is no longer available for her trendy vacation needs. Ah, well. Gender equality still has some way to go there, too.
I’m not on my own. I am sharing this glorious four-star jail cell with my partner and 16-month-old twins.
It might just be a combination of low probabilities and confirmation bias, but I’ve recently noticed several accounts of lesbians adopting twin children. An IVF solution to Solomon’s Decision?
We’ve been given spacious accommodation because the usual quarantine rooms on this island aren’t big enough to fit two cots, as has my sister, who has children aged seven and four. But my parents, who are in their 70s, have it pretty rough. As only my mother has Covid (she’s triple-jabbed and asymptomatic)…
…they’ve been separated and given two dingy next-door cabins in the mosquito-ridden interior of the island.
I think the decor of their rooms dates from when the resort was first built in 1988 – no wonder the photos on its website are so soft-focus and filtered. Their quarantine countdown clock has just been reset after the HPA man spotted them eating dinner together; they were ticked off by resort management like a pair of naughty teenagers.
I’ve done time in Hawaii, never mind the circumstances, and let me say this: islanders frequently have a seething hatred for mainlanders. They’ll take you money, no problem, but if you don’t get on the plane home when you’re supposed to then… I am only one datapoint but this maltreatment doesn’t surprise me.
“My elderly parents are being held in solitary confinement in a tropical hellpit! And the decor is so, like, totally 1988!” More like 1984. I cannot hate Baby Boomers when they live in the world, with the family, that they created.
The fact that they are stuck there does take the shine off this extended stay. I also get a lump in my throat every time I remember that my in-laws will miss out on spending Christmas with their beloved grandchildren for the second year in a row.
You COULD sneak out. I mean, you’re right there, too. It would be a great Christmas story in later years.
In retrospect, the decision to take a holiday in the middle of a pandemic seems incredibly selfish given the risks. This is less of a vacation, more of a guilt trip.
Are you sure? It sounds like Socialist Heaven. Big Brother is carefully overseeing your safety, you get to enjoy a fancy vacation that Deplorables never do (because we have friends and do stuff instead) AND you get to cry about being a victim while ignoring your parents swapping COVID for jungle fever in a repurposed detention camp for golfers!
We get food delivered to the room three times a day by our waiters Ahmed and Adam.
Dusky native, check. Pool boy befriending lonely single mothers, check. Oh, that’s why women like to vacation at these resorts where there’s nothing to do but lie around. They have… pools.
My daughter has taken to blowing them clumsy kisses when they leave. The timings are erratic though – lunch can come as late as 3pm and dinner at 9pm – so now the minibar is full of kid-friendly leftovers from previous meals so that we can keep them in some semblance of a routine and not substitute meals with our entire supply of Ella’s Kitchen snacks. The YoYo buggies we rented for this trip have proved versatile, serving as high chairs, climbing frames and barricades.
What’s with the brand name dropping? Did marketing actually work on her?
If I may be permitted a complaint…
The fact that she didn’t intend “my parents are being held in solitary confinement by Maldives Gestapo through Christmas” as a complaint, is the moment I decided to make a post out of this.
Welcome to Socialist Heaven, Grandpa. It looks like women without husbands. Also, mosquitoes.
[My complaint] would be that there is very little clarity about the rules of our quarantine. Should we all be in isolation or just my parents?
Ahmed considered it but he would have become responsible for your infants, now without a supply of clean diapers.
Must we all do a full 14 days? Would a re-test make any difference? Surely the man with a clipboard could have come up with something more lenient for ‘contacts’? The HPA website is vague, and hotel management is giving us mixed messages, but they’re not taking any chances. A little online research reveals why: the first two Covid cases in the Maldives back in March 2020 were employees at Kuredu, who had caught the virus from an Italian tourist who tested positive on his return home. The resort was accused by Maldives police of a deliberate delay in reporting these cases to the HPA, although it was never charged due to a lack of sufficient evidence.
Remember I said that islanders often hate mainlanders? I never said that it was entirely unjustified.
Insurance admin aside, there’s no point getting stressed about a situation over which I have very little control. Quarantine is a necessity of our times, as are vaccines, masks and thorough hand-washing, and we all need to do our bit to contain the virus. I’m thrilled to be doing so from this tropical Alcatraz, although my niece and nephew are very worried that Father Christmas won’t know where to find them.
I’m not sure yet when I’ll be home, but for now I’m going nowhere. Keeping the babies contained and entertained is the main activity here in Quarantineland.
“I’m all about my babies. Will be home when my husband, er, State official okays it.”
My partner and I have one laptop between us, so we’re working in shifts – no fake Zoom background required.
“All my sacrifices were worth it!”
Barbie Abraham is having the vacation of her life: whoring attention by playing the victim card from a beachfront resort! And the only price is “I’m all about my babies” that she would have done regardless. It is fascinating, when looking over her account, to notice 1. how the government serves as a de facto husband over her, 2. how okay she is with lawless cruelty and 3. she has no comprehension of the concepts fun, vacation or Christmas.
This week’s Telegraph fashion content will be coming to you from the paper’s new Lhaviyani Atoll bureau. Everything you need to know about spending Christmas in a bikini coming right up…
That’s not a teaser. That’s how she ended the article. “Pay attention to me!”
I could handle working from a beach. What’s the address? If I fake a new infection every 14 days, will they give me free accommodations and food for a year? Or at least for the winter months…… I could take the summer off and go home, and then return the next November ????
1. Her entire article is one long humblebrag.
Woe is me! I am a prisoner in this exotic, tropical paradise that you can’t afford! Shame on silly, selfish me for traveling during a pandemic to expensive luxury destinations that you’ll never see expect on my social media. And I’m doing it on the insurance company’s dime! In fact, I might have to stay another week, boo hoo!
2. How do we even know this article is true? Does Yahoo fact check its “lifestyle journalists”? There are so many women writing about their “amazing lives.” Since this is often their only source of income, I doubt they limit themselves to the truth.
“How do we even know this article is true?… I doubt they limit themselves to the truth.”
She admitted her triple-vaxxed mother tested positive for COVID. No NPC would make that up.
Quarantine is a necessity of our times, as are vaccines, masks and thorough hand-washing, and we all need to do our bit to contain the virus.
Tamara Abraham = 24-karat moronette. Of course I knew this before I even read Word One of her literary vomitus, and it’s confirmed by the rest of the paragraph from which I quote her, but it still needs to be pointed out, just in case anyone is still inclined at this stage to toss her a crumb of sympathy.
Frankly, I hope they move her into the sh!+hole they’re keeping her parents in, just to give her something legitimate to complain about.
There are so many women writing about their “amazing lives.”
Which law is it that is summarized by “the degree to which a woman’s life is ‘exciting’ is in inverse proportion to the amount of time she spends publicly bragging about it?”
‘Dusky native, check. Pool boy befriending lonely single mothers, check.’
Central and South America are loaded with these gigs. Whole sub-industries. The gringas flock from the U.S., Canada, Britain and Europe to snag a vacay ‘romantic adventure’ with dusky and husky locals. The doods are eager because unlike local girls, the gringas disappear in a few weeks. No legal or familial repercussions.
The girls usually wander about in feral little packs, all with skimpy jean-shorts. Like U.S. college towns.
Ahmed and bros actually would be gratified to round up all the snot-nosed western princesses and truck them and their whelps to jungle accommodations typically inhabited by the poorest of locals. They’d last about a month.
However, the Maldives Tourism Authority would lose bribes and local business owners would complain. So, the snots are tolerated, hosed, bled, and sent home.