Not all bad

My friend Franca and I have been exchanging little essays--hers in English, mine in Italian--as one way of trying to increase our fluency. I've shared some of her observations about the situation in Fidenza in earlier posts.

Her essay describing how the virus had shut down the town was titled "Corona...I hate you!" Which considering how tough things have been there is pretty much what I'd expect. I think by now we all have experienced a lot of visceral anger at this not-even-quite-living thing that is robbing us of our lives, in tens of thousands of cases quite literally.

So I was surprised when I opened my email one morning and found she'd sent a new piece of writing titled, "Corona I love you." Of course Franca doesn't really love the virus (unlike some U.S. Republicans, who seem positively gleeful that it will clear out the old, the weak, and the non-white). But she has found a few things to be grateful for, which strikes me as very healthy.

With her permission I want to quote some of what she wrote. (I've made a few small grammatical corrections.)

"Yes, this seems to be a silly affirmation, but [this situation] has so many positive sides. I obviously am speaking about life in Emilia-Romagna, the region where I live, but I think that more or less you can extend my outlook to other places in Italy, or in the world.

"First of all, the sky is blue. You may think that it is an obvious thing, but it isn’t. Here we usually always have a gray-blue sky, because of the nearby great highway that connects the North with the South, and the industries, and the thousands of cars that everybody uses in our overpopulated zone.

I think this was more fog than pollution, but the sky was sort of gray-blue.

"Now the sun, the moon and the stars shine like never before!

"You can sniff the air and it smells good; it's like the air in the mountains, scented with flowers and grass. Before we had one flat smell of …...nothing!

"What about the silence? 

"l am a fan of deserts. When will I have another occasion to stay at home and have the same kind of silence? No cars, no planes, no people in the streets, very few trains...there is only the sound of the birds in the trees or in the sky!

"There is no stress. This is like the life of about 40 years ago; you have things to do, but with a relaxed rhythm. We are not in a hurry for anything....

"Before we had no time, no time for anything. Everyone was in a hurry and always more, and more, and more. Our life was full of work, meetings, courses, shopping, false desires and false necessities. Now everything has gotten more simple. More natural. More quiet.

"And if Mr Corona is giving us a suggestion, perhaps it is: 'Take it easy and enjoy this, your one and only life.'"

Now of course neither Franca nor I think that quiet and blue skies make up for the deaths and all the other losses this pandemic has inflicted on Italy and the rest of the world. There is no ignoring the tragedy of it. But I think most of us are finding little things to be grateful for as well in this sudden stoppage of the everyday--things we should appreciate while they last and that perhaps we will miss when the crisis is over and normal life roars back again.

A little more news

Various friends in Fidenza have been checking in to let us know how they are faring. I'm happy to report that everyone in our immediate circle is still in good health, evidence that social distancing is working. And now it sounds like the town's rate of hospital admissions is starting to go down. There as here, you can't help but wonder if locking things down sooner might have saved even more lives.

My friend Franca told me that on Feb. 23, the day the Italian government cordoned off the handful of northern Italian towns that first saw big outbreaks of COVID-19, her family drove over to a seaside town on the Ligurian coast, about two hours from Fidenza, to celebrate her mother's 90th birthday. The streets and restaurants were full of people; the danger all seemed to be many kilometers away.

During the drive home they listened to news on the radio and heard that cases had now shown up in Piacenza and Parma, towns right near Fidenza. But it took two more weeks before everyone was told to go home and stay there. Even then, a lot of Fidentini seemed unable to believe the danger was really that great--the same denial we've since witnessed, and perhaps been guilty of ourselves, in communities all over the world.

By early in March people in Fidenza had been told to stop meeting in groups, stop hugging and kissing each other, and stay at least a meter apart--a big ask in Italy, where hugs and kisses are standard greetings even among people who barely know each other. At that time Pia, our upstairs neighbor in Fidenza, told me that although she was very carefully following the rules, she could see that a lot of other people weren't.

Franca says that although people were told they should wear masks when they go out, most people didn't until more recently. Perhaps that was because masks were very hard to get. Franca bought some on Feb. 23 when she came back from her family's outing and had to pay 5 euros for each mask. By the next day, she says, they were up to 15 euros.

Franca hasn't been outside without a mask since March 8, and like Pam, Romano, and everyone else we know, she rarely goes out at all. She's only allowed out of her home to get food, but since everyone in the household is desperate to escape the house, there's stiff competition for who gets to do the shopping. "So I've only gone out about three times since then," she told me.

A few days ago our friend Debora the banker told me that the COVID19 dead now include many people she knew. "Every day someone rings to tell me that their father, uncle, husband has died," she wrote. Men, she noted, are apparently much more at risk. A co-worker's father died in the hospital in Parma, all alone, because relatives weren't allowed in for fear of infection. The local crematorium was so overcrowded that his remains were sent to Ravenna, more than two hours away, and for the moment at least his ashes have gone missing.

Meanwhile many people--especially those with marginal jobs and those who work in Italy's bustling underground economy--have been living without a paycheck for weeks. "People are beginning to starve," Debora said.

A volunteer delivering food (photo swiped from the mayor's web site)

When I checked the mayor's web site I was glad to see that the town has been taking action. Fidenza has organized volunteers from the Red Cross and other groups to do food shopping for older citizens. It is starting to distribute free surgical masks to its citizens. It was also reportedly one of the first municipalities to put in place procedures for distributing the national government's first wave of food aid.

The aid is in the form of vouchers that can be used to purchase food in local stores. "We did it with clear rules so we don't waste money and get it to those who really need it," the mayor wrote. The first round of vouchers, intended to cover two weeks' worth of groceries, came to about $300 for a family of four and went to over four hundred families.

In addition, Fidenza is collecting money for additional food aid from those able to donate. We're going to kick in a few euros. After all, it's our town, too.