The Ones Who Can't Work From Home

The people who head out each day to do jobs that can put them at greater risk of infection.

April 25, 2020

By Adam Majendie

As weeks of isolation turn into months in countries that are still fighting to control the spread of Covid-19, those who must leave their homes every day to carry out essential work are feeling the strain. For the medical workers, drivers, cleaners and those who keep the supply of food and medicine flowing, there is the daily stress of meticulous precautions to prevent infection. Our photographers and reporters went out to meet these people in their daily tasks. This, in their own words, is what it’s like for those who aren’t working from home, whose jobs put them in harm’s way.

A portrait of ACV Enviro industrial cleaning project coordinator Carrie Martin in New Jersey.
Carrie Martin

Occupation: Environmental decontamination coordinator
Location: Rahway, New Jersey
Age: 31
Photographer: Misha Friedman/Bloomberg

Carrie Martin

Occupation: Environmental decontamination coordinator
Location: Rahway, New Jersey
Age: 31

Photographer: Misha Friedman/Bloomberg

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An industrial cleaner for eight years, Martin used to specialize in oil spills.  Now she’s deep cleaning manufacturing and transportation facilities while staying in a hotel hundreds of miles from her home in Greencastle, Pennsylvania. Like the members of her crew at ACV Enviro, she has to wear a hazmat suit with a full-face respirator, gloves and a mask taped on so she’s completely covered. The suit has to be decontaminated and removed in a particular way after each job to avoid cross-contamination. Many of her jobs are during the night when plants are empty. 

ACV Enviro project coordinator Carrie Martin puts on personal protective equipment in Rahway, New Jersey on April 17, 2020.
▲ ACV Enviro project coordinator Carrie Martin puts on personal protective equipment in Rahway, New Jersey on April 17, 2020.
Photographer: Misha Friedman/Bloomberg

It's been a lot of long hours, a lot of travel. We’re just kind of making sure that we keep ourselves protected as much as we can. I’ve been out on the road since Covid-19 was declared a national emergency and it will soon be the longest I've been away from home. 

Usually I don’t know where I’m going to be from day to day. If we have an overnight project, I try to get some sleep when I can. Either I get a phone call first thing in the morning, before I can get some sleep, or I’ll be woken up for projects either that day or that evening. On the job, depending on the scope, I’m either managing the project and ensuring that everything is thoroughly decontaminated, or I’m in there side-by-side with my crew.

When this began, new clients might have hired us out of precaution, but now they understand that it’s a question of life and death.

I'm very happy to be doing what I'm doing and I enjoy it, I always have. It definitely makes me happy to be part of the process to try to get this under control. It’s something very serious that I, for one, took for granted in the beginning. I thought it definitely wasn't going to turn out the way it has. I've experienced so many situations in my time in the industry, but this one is definitely the one that hits home the most just because of how many people it’s affecting.

Portrait of food delivery worker Tony Lau in Hong Kong
Tony Lau

Occupation: Food delivery worker
Location: Hong Kong
Age: 29
Photographer: Paul Yeung/Bloomberg

Tony Lau

Occupation: Food delivery worker
Location: Hong Kong
Age: 29

Photographer: Paul Yeung/Bloomberg

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Lau delivers meals on foot for Deliveroo in downtown Hong Kong. With more people working from home, many of his deliveries are now to apartment blocks on the steep hills above the central business district. Often, the customer requests contactless delivery, where he has to drop the packages at a building lobby, or sometimes ring the bell and leave his pack outside the door and step back so the client can take the food from his bag.

A Deliveroo worker demonstrates contact-free delivery in Hong Kong on March 27, 2020.
▲ Lau demonstrates contact-free delivery in Hong Kong on March 27, 2020.
Photographer: Paul Yeung/Bloomberg

No matter what job you do, you still have a chance of getting the virus. I’ve been working seven days a week since the coronavirus hit Hong Kong, starting at 11 a.m.and ending at 9 p.m. to 10:30 p.m., depending on how tired I am. We still have more orders in Central, but now it’s mainly from mid-level residential buildings, not the downtown commercial area. So the walk we have to do is quite energy-demanding, and when wearing a mask, it’s not easy to breathe.

We’re seeing around a 10% to 13% increase in orders. An increase in orders translates into increased income. It’s a big difference compared with when the protests were happening in Central. That’s how the gig economy works. When there are more orders, you work harder, you get more income. When it’s less busy, it’s time to take a rest.

The thing I’m worried about is that if the damage continues, more restaurants will close. If they are closing down, I will feel very sad. We treat each other like friends. When they have extra food, they share it with us. I’ve been to a restaurant where they introduced new dishes and they asked me to try it out to see if it’s good.

Portrait of paramedic Damien Bradelle in Paris.
Damien Bradelle

Occupation: Volunteer ambulance worker
Location: Paris, France
Age: 20
Photographer: Nathan Laine/Bloomberg

Damien Bradelle

Occupation: Volunteer ambulance worker
Location: Paris, France
Age: 20

Photographer: Nathan Laine/Bloomberg

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Bradelle is an undergraduate student who works with the Protection Civile, a first-response organization that relies on volunteers for 95% of its staff. He helped design and set up a decontamination site for drivers and ambulances returning from work and now joins the teams on calls. 

Members of the civil protection ambulance service carry out disinfecting cleaning work in Paris on March 31, 2020.
Members of the civil protection ambulance service carry out disinfecting cleaning work in Paris on March 31, 2020.
▲ Members of the civil protection ambulance service carry out disinfecting cleaning work in Paris on March 31, 2020.
Photographer: Nathan Laine/Bloomberg

Everything begins with a radio call. When I hear the name of the team, it’s the first adrenaline shot. We know we’re going out but we don’t know where or for what.

In the ambulance, I’m at the back, putting on protective gear. It’s always a strange state of mind — the adrenaline, the sirens and concentrating on my own protection. Then we arrive. For me it’s a relatively relaxed time, looking for the right door.

And then, adrenaline again — we’re in front of the person, we have all our procedures to follow and all the unpredictable things to deal with. We wait for the doctor’s decision and usually take the patient to the hospital. We have to stay focused, being in a small space with a person who possibly has Covid-19. After we drop the person at the emergency room, we decontaminate everything, including the vehicle. Usually, we’re all talking together, having fun. But you still have to concentrate. It’s easy to get contaminated during the decontamination.

Portrait of trucker Charles Stallings Jr.
Charles Stallings Jr.

Occupation: Truck driver
Location: Des Moines, Iowa
Age: 46
Photographer: Whitney Curtis/Bloomberg

Charles Stallings Jr.

Occupation: Truck driver
Location: Des Moines, Iowa
Age: 46

Photographer: Whitney Curtis/Bloomberg

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Stallings’ company, Colton and Associates, carries processed foods from Iowa to California and brings produce back. Among its main customers are restaurants. With many of those closed, his routes have become longer and more complicated for pickup and delivery. He sometimes prepares his own food in the truck when he can’t find take-out.

I've been a truck driver for 25 years. I’ve driven almost 5 million miles coast-to-coast. Now, whatever you planned to travel with throughout the week — groceries, hand sanitizer — you take double. You basically bring double of everything because you don't know whether the stores will run out of product or you're going to be out longer than you’re supposed to be. 

I feel for everybody out here who isn’t working. It's affected people all around me that I really care for. My mother and father are still living. I wouldn't visit them right now. I talk on the phone. If something happened to either of my parents because I gave it to them, that would devastate me. I have four kids. I got three grandchildren. I have a daughter that's pregnant, too. I really wouldn't even want to be around them right now.

At the restaurants at the truck stops, you used to get several drivers talking to each other while they’re eating. You can’t do that now. I'm very appreciative that truck stops keep the doors open and still supply food. But you gotta get it to-go. Everything is to-go. These are crazy times.

People's attitudes are a little bit better now. It will change a few people's outlooks on truckers. And there’s people that I'm very appreciative of — cashiers at a truck stop, cashiers at a gas station, restaurant workers — they’re still working. Every time I get food or get fuel, I always tell them, “thank you for coming to work.” Because if they don't open, I can't drive. 

As long as I can keep the wheels rolling, I'm going to do it. Because everybody’s got to eat, no matter what.

A portrait of a pharmacist in Paris.
Clemence Rouxel

Occupation: Pharmacist
Location: Paris, France
Age: 27
Photographer: Adrienne Surprenant/Bloomberg

Clemence Rouxel

Occupation: Pharmacist
Location: Paris, France
Age: 27

Photographer: Adrienne Surprenant/Bloomberg

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Rouxel works at a local pharmacy in Montmartre, north of the city center, where they installed Plexiglas screens to try to give the staff some protection from clients who might have the virus. With more people working from home, many now go to residential neighborhood pharmacies if they feel unwell, putting Rouxel and her co-workers on the first line of defense.

A pharmacist assists a customer at a pharmacy in Paris on April 9, 2020.
▲ Rouxel assists a customer at a pharmacy in Paris on April 9, 2020.
Photographer: Adrienne Surprenant/Bloomberg

This is a small local pharmacy. Most of our customers we know very well. People came to ask us a lot of questions about the virus. People always come to the pharmacy first, even for things that have nothing to do with it! ‘My sink is clogged, do you know anyone?’ If we can help, we will. 

But now, the clientele is different. On one hand, we have customers who don't usually come to us because they usually go near their work, and on the other there are people who don’t usually come to the pharmacy, but they have decided that they have new needs in terms of shampoo or body creams. If they come when it's not very urgent, it's because they can't bear to stay at home. They are tense, more aggressive.

We changed the pharmacy's hours to make sure we’re fully staffed 100% of the time, in order to limit the risk of aggression. There’s a lot of aggressions at the moment, a lot of robberies. We have to manage our personal stress. We are very exposed on the one hand because there are sick people, and on the other because people come into our premises. 

We try to do other things at home, not to watch too much news and not to get into a total frenzy with the multitude of contradictory news 24 hours a day. I try not to think about it too much to keep my spirits up.

A portrait of doctor Ahn Yeo-hyun in South Korea.
Ahn Yeo-hyun

Occupation: Doctor at Busan Nam-gu district health center
Location: Busan, South Korea
Age: 39
Photograph: Ahn Yeo-hyun

Ahn Yeo-hyun

Occupation: Doctor at Busan Nam-gu district health center
Location: Busan, South Korea
Age: 39

Photograph: Ahn Yeo-hyun

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Ahn is at the forefront of South Korea's mass testing for Covid-19. She helped develop a mobile testing booth to better protect medical personnel. It takes only a minute to disinfect it. Booths set up in the port city of Busan allow rapid testing of potential patients without medical workers having to change gowns and disinfect after every test.

Since the coronavirus outbreak, my daily routine looks like this: as soon as I get to the office, I check the tests I conducted the day before, dividing the results between positives and negatives. I then check how many people are scheduled for tests today, and the time of the reservations. I take samples to  government designated locations, and then I repeat it all over again the next day. It's an endless loop.

After the Covid-19 outbreak worsened, the number of people needing to be tested increased. In order to make sure the patients and the medical staff were both safe, while speeding up the test procedures, I needed to hit two birds with one stone. It took two months to come up with the current walk-through booth we use now.

I think we've reached the limit of how much fatigue the medical staff can handle. There's a huge deficit of doctors working in the public medical field, and there are no people to exchange shifts. I think there's going to be a wave of staff leaving after this. Many of my colleagues have collapsed due to fatigue, but it's not like you can change teams or take a vacation. There are many people cheering us on, which is why we try to continue to give it our all, but I'm honestly not sure how much longer we can do this.

A portrait of a grocery store owner in Tokyo.
Hiromichi Akiba

Occupation: Grocery store owner
Location: Tokyo, Japan
Age: 51
Photographer: Noriko Hayashi/Bloomberg

Hiromichi Akiba

Occupation: Grocery store owner
Location: Tokyo, Japan
Age: 51

Photographer: Noriko Hayashi/Bloomberg

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Akiba started his small chain of five Akidai grocery stores in Tokyo 29 years ago, selling fresh meat, seafood, fruit and vegetables. He has 150 employees in his shops, as well as a bakery and restaurant which is now closed because of the government’s measures to control the spread of the virus.

Akidai grocery store in Tokyo provides hand sanitizer for customer.
Employees at Akidai grocery store in Tokyo wear masks.
Customers at Akidai grocery store in Tokyo wear masks.
▲ Akidai grocery store in Tokyo provides hand sanitizer for customers, most of whom wear face masks, on April 8, 2020.
Photographer: Noriko Hayashi/Bloomberg

The problem is that I need workers. Sales are up 20% to 30%, partly because of stockpiling. But the fewer the staff, the higher the risk of infection. The busier you are, the less time you have to disinfect your hands. 

Some employees say they don't want to leave their houses if the situation becomes more serious. Three people have already taken a day off in the last few days. But I need employees. At the same time, I totally understand their feelings. 

In early January, I told my employees that it’s important to be careful — for example, by not going out late at night. If we get infected, we could spread the infection to our customers. I told them to thoroughly disinfect everything and wash their hands carefully. If they have a close contact with a customer, they should wash their hands when the customer isn’t looking.

Some of my employees live with their mothers, their children, and wives who are pregnant. They are worried that if they get infected, they might spread it to their family. My daughter is also pregnant now, so I don't see her, just in case. 

When an infection spreads, some businesses reduce hours. But if I cut my hours, it will just become more crowded.

A portrait of a hospital assistant and community food kitchen worker in Faridabad, India.
Sangeeta Gupta

Occupation: Hospital assistant and community food kitchen worker
Location: Faridabad, India
Age: 24
Photographer: Ruhani Kaur/Bloomberg

Sangeeta Gupta

Occupation: Hospital assistant and community food kitchen worker
Location: Faridabad, India
Age: 24

Photographer: Ruhani Kaur/Bloomberg

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Gupta lives in New Delhi and drives early each morning to Faridabad to work in a gurdwara — a Sikh congregation space that traditionally feeds the poor — often arriving back home at 8 p.m. A General Duty Assistant at the Sarvodaya Hospital, she joined a group of volunteers this month at the gurdwara to prepare and pack meals (funded by donations) that are distributed by the district administration to slums and other poor areas.

In Delhi, it’s banned to even go out on the streets. The police use loudspeakers to warn people to stay in. Only if you have an emergency, then only one person can go out. I’m allowed to come only because I work in the hospital, but I get stopped by the police every day. 

I live in Delhi, so when I cross the state border to come to Faridabad, I get stopped. I need my identity card. Without it they may not let me through. The hospital has given me a car sticker. After that, they let me go. At night while getting back, sometimes it gets late and I worry that if something happened I wouldn’t have anybody to help me. I’d have to deal with it alone. I drive alone, wash, wear a mask, use sanitizer. 

I'm happy that I can head out and take care of people. At home I have my 45-year-old mother. My father died recently. I just want everybody to be safe at home. My mother is very worried — she asks me to be careful. When you stay in, you’re safe. When you head out, you will be in danger.

When we work in the ward, we wear the full suit: green cover, mask, gloves, shoe covers. Only then can we enter. But you do still feel scared if a patient comes in with coronavirus symptoms.

A portrait of police seargent Ramon Barrios in Barcelona.
Ramon Barrios

Occupation: Police sergeant and deputy head of the Eixample Citizen Security Unit
Location: Barcelona, Spain
Age: 48
Photographer: Angel Garcia/Bloomberg

Ramon Barrios

Occupation: Police sergeant and deputy head of the Eixample Citizen Security Unit
Location: Barcelona, Spain
Age: 48

Photographer: Angel Garcia/Bloomberg

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Barrios is a member of the Mossos d'Esquadra, the Catalan police force, and has worked at the station in Eixample in the center of Barcelona since it opened almost 16 years ago. The station, overlooking the fountains of the Plaça d’Espanya in the heart of the city, is normally one of the busiest in Barcelona.

Mossos d'Esquadra and SEM patrol the streets in Barcelona on April 1, 2020.
Mossos d'Esquadra and SEM patrol the streets in Barcelona on April 1, 2020.
▲ Mossos d'Esquadra and SEM patrol the streets in Barcelona and carry out an intervention with a homeless woman on April 1, 2020.
Photographer: Angel Garcia/Bloomberg

Work has been strange. Very strange. Our daily tasks have changed entirely. All the teams — the undercover group, the victim-support group — they’ve all had to adapt. What takes up most of our time now is controlling the mandatory stay at home. The office that handles police reports had long lines of people, roughly 180 people per day. Now we have three or four. 

There is a fear. We’re used to facing risky situations more than the average civilian. But, especially in the beginning, there was this fear of the unknown. Like all police departments, you just get used to it. You adapt. 

The greatest fear, though, is how long the pandemic will last and how hard it will hit us. The second greatest fear is our families at home. We are oddly privileged, being able to leave the apartment. But, when we get back home, the hugs and kisses we used to give and receive, we can’t do that now. At home it is almost like we are the ones who are isolated.

A portrait of a taxi driver in Moscow.
Andrey Yegorov

Occupation: Taxi driver
Location: Moscow, Russia
Age: 28
Photographer: Andrey Rudakov/Bloomberg

Andrey Yegorov

Occupation: Taxi driver
Location: Moscow, Russia
Age: 28

Photographer: Andrey Rudakov/Bloomberg

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Yegorov has been working in Moscow for Yandex Taxi since last July. After the capital became the epicenter of the virus in Russia, President Vladimir Putin ordered a strict lockdown in the city in March. That largely emptied the streets and forced Yegorov to scout districts outside the center to get fares.

A taxi drives past the Kremlin on a mostly empty street in Moscow on April 2, 2020.
▲ A taxi drives past the Kremlin on a mostly empty street in Moscow on April 2, 2020.
Photographer: Andrey Rudakov/Bloomberg

You have to change the way you work. Everything is closed — shopping centers, restaurants, theaters — you have to find a new way to feed yourself, to look for the places where people still need you. I don’t wait at the city center or at the Kremlin anymore. 

You also spend more time cleaning. Our company taxi park provides us with masks and antiseptic and helps us with disinfection, so when the traffic police stop me, I don’t have any issues. I don’t mind if the passenger doesn’t wear a mask. I have a big car, so they’re quite far away. If they start sneezing, or coughing, I’ll open the windows and after the ride I’ll go for disinfection.

Passengers only trust a driver with a mask. If a passenger is without a mask, I have masks and I can give them one. But if there is a threat of infection I can refuse to take them.

Right now, I’m making enough money, but I believe that the worst is yet to come. People are at home now using their savings, if they have any. When the virus goes, they will start saving again, and I think taxi services would be one of the things they’ll stop using. 

But I’m in good spirits. I can go to work and earn money. A lot of people don’t have that chance. And it’s very easy to drive around Moscow now — there are no traffic jams.

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