Cyclists touring Lucca's massive wall in better times. |
Lucca is like a ghost
town. This is the second day of lockdown. This morning, we went food shopping
and to the pharmacy, but the merchants’ association agreed to close almost all
other businesses until the virus is under control. We’re getting used to lining
up in the street to go into the pharmacies and the greengrocer, butcher and
baker shops in order to respect the one-meter distance from others.
This afternoon, like
many others (except the elderly) we decided to break the ban on staying in
except in case of necessity and did our daily promenade on the wall. Taking
advantage of the spring sunshine felt like a necessity. There were still a fair
number of runners and bikers on the wide boulevard that tops the wall. The
fruit trees are in blossom and seem to know nothing about a virus, although the
mayor has tested positive and city hall can only be contacted by telephone.
There were policemen stopping people randomly, but we didn’t get checked.
A local woman who had
been released from the hospital fell ill with COVID-19 again and was sent back
to the hospital. This bug is vicious and tenacious, and the Italian government
is right to lock down the whole country. It feels a little like we’re in a
prison that we all agree to be in, but it’s far from martial law. In fact, we
live across from the real prison, perhaps the only one in Italy that hasn’t yet
rioted over deprivation of visiting rights.
Yesterday I thought we
were starting to see the light because there were fewer new cases than the day
before: only 977. Today, that number has leaped to 2,015, bringing the total
number to 12,462. Seventy-three thousand tests have been carried out and
they’re still in supply.
I sometimes curse the
one who brought this to Italy and walked around with flu symptoms. I remember
my mother keeping me home from school when I had a cold so I wouldn’t give it
to others. I was too young to understand the implications of Camus’ The Plague
when I read it in French class. We know more now than we did in the nineteenth
century, the period in which it was set. We have more means to fight this. Now
we all must apply our knowledge wisely as the Italians are doing. The question
is how long can we live like this in a country so used to freedom of movement
by ground, air or sea? The very idea of not being able to go wherever you want
when you want might prove to be trying.
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