The Come-Back, Day 7. Of Masks and Idiots.
After two months, I finally returned to my weekly Saturday shopping in Boiro.
At times, it even seemed like a normal day. There were plenty of people, but not overmuch, like a slow Saturday in the summer, when most people are at the beach. I found most of what I wanted, but some things are still out of stock. I wonder if some products will ever come back.
Some stores are still closed, like Merkal shoe store, and the Chinese bazaars, probably because they measure more than 400 square meters. Until Phase Two, only small stores are allowed to open, to give the small business owners a respite.
About three bars near the market place had their tables out. To my eye, there wasn't two meters between the tables, nor did there seem to be less people than at other times. Some of the tables were occupied, and the gregarious nature of Spanish conversations made it seem like the terrace was filled with a lot of people. Some wore masks, others didn't.
I wore one. I hate the damned thing. It's pretty, with a checkered pattern that includes teddy bears. The mother of a friend of my daughter's in Santiago made her four, for her and for us. But that doesn't mean it's easy to wear. Yesterday was almost summery, and, lugging bags from the supermarkets to the car, I had to pull it down. I couldn't breathe. If we have to wear masks this summer, I am not going to go out very often.
I found myself with the mother of one of my tele-students, and we talked about things. At moments, I found myself almost closing my mouth upon the cloth in front of it. It became humid, and I lost the sense of clean air that I sometimes got when I breathed in. I suppose a lot of people have the same problem, but it's one that I can't stand. Even in winter, when it's cold, I have to have my nose uncovered to breathe in the cooler air. I feel trapped, even if warmer, with my head under the covers.
I could never be a health care worker. I admire their resilience and their precision, working covered from head to foot, sometimes even wearing two masks and three pairs of gloves. I could never do that. One mask and one pair of gloves are enough to floor me these days.
The protests in the rich barrio of Salamanca, in Madrid, continue. Just like some Trump supporters, when they're asked why they support him, not everyone in the barrio knows exactly what's going on. A woman with a Spanish flag wrapped around her hips said she was almost crying when she heard that Madrid would stay in Phase Zero, the "only" area in Spain that was doing so. Of course she wanted to pass to Phase One! (Barcelona and different townships in many different regions also remained in Phase Zero for different reasons.) It sounded like she was scared of missing out on a new clothing line from Chanel.
Another nut, who announced himself as a street musician with a few pots and pans and pails bottom up in front of him, talked about the number eleven. He told the reporter, "How many letters in coronavirus? Eleven. When was all this talked about? The eleventh of March. Think about 9/11, 3/11, and you'll see this is all connected. They want us to get used to being under curfew and locked in our houses." One wonders where some people were when neurons were being distributed.
An ultra-Catholic foundation, participated in by some right-wing politicians, also talked about making sure the left was voted out in the next elections. One of the speakers during the video conference suggested that the left was trying to make more voters by "creating" unemployment. One way to counteract that would be to disenfranchise anyone getting a government relief check. I swear, sometimes the human race seems devoid of humanity. I've seen cats that are more human than some humans.
One of the measures urged during the lockdown was to disinfect shoes and clothing upon entering the house after going out for essentials. One woman devised a home-made method using a pressure cooker. I suppose if you didn't want to wash clothes that often, it would be a more efficient method. I suppose.
Life continues.
At times, it even seemed like a normal day. There were plenty of people, but not overmuch, like a slow Saturday in the summer, when most people are at the beach. I found most of what I wanted, but some things are still out of stock. I wonder if some products will ever come back.
Some stores are still closed, like Merkal shoe store, and the Chinese bazaars, probably because they measure more than 400 square meters. Until Phase Two, only small stores are allowed to open, to give the small business owners a respite.
About three bars near the market place had their tables out. To my eye, there wasn't two meters between the tables, nor did there seem to be less people than at other times. Some of the tables were occupied, and the gregarious nature of Spanish conversations made it seem like the terrace was filled with a lot of people. Some wore masks, others didn't.
I wore one. I hate the damned thing. It's pretty, with a checkered pattern that includes teddy bears. The mother of a friend of my daughter's in Santiago made her four, for her and for us. But that doesn't mean it's easy to wear. Yesterday was almost summery, and, lugging bags from the supermarkets to the car, I had to pull it down. I couldn't breathe. If we have to wear masks this summer, I am not going to go out very often.
I found myself with the mother of one of my tele-students, and we talked about things. At moments, I found myself almost closing my mouth upon the cloth in front of it. It became humid, and I lost the sense of clean air that I sometimes got when I breathed in. I suppose a lot of people have the same problem, but it's one that I can't stand. Even in winter, when it's cold, I have to have my nose uncovered to breathe in the cooler air. I feel trapped, even if warmer, with my head under the covers.
I could never be a health care worker. I admire their resilience and their precision, working covered from head to foot, sometimes even wearing two masks and three pairs of gloves. I could never do that. One mask and one pair of gloves are enough to floor me these days.
The protests in the rich barrio of Salamanca, in Madrid, continue. Just like some Trump supporters, when they're asked why they support him, not everyone in the barrio knows exactly what's going on. A woman with a Spanish flag wrapped around her hips said she was almost crying when she heard that Madrid would stay in Phase Zero, the "only" area in Spain that was doing so. Of course she wanted to pass to Phase One! (Barcelona and different townships in many different regions also remained in Phase Zero for different reasons.) It sounded like she was scared of missing out on a new clothing line from Chanel.
Another nut, who announced himself as a street musician with a few pots and pans and pails bottom up in front of him, talked about the number eleven. He told the reporter, "How many letters in coronavirus? Eleven. When was all this talked about? The eleventh of March. Think about 9/11, 3/11, and you'll see this is all connected. They want us to get used to being under curfew and locked in our houses." One wonders where some people were when neurons were being distributed.
An ultra-Catholic foundation, participated in by some right-wing politicians, also talked about making sure the left was voted out in the next elections. One of the speakers during the video conference suggested that the left was trying to make more voters by "creating" unemployment. One way to counteract that would be to disenfranchise anyone getting a government relief check. I swear, sometimes the human race seems devoid of humanity. I've seen cats that are more human than some humans.
One of the measures urged during the lockdown was to disinfect shoes and clothing upon entering the house after going out for essentials. One woman devised a home-made method using a pressure cooker. I suppose if you didn't want to wash clothes that often, it would be a more efficient method. I suppose.
Life continues.
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