It’s even worse for the prisoners

Everybody tends to think their situation is the worst, and I’m not going to start some competition.  But even in the best of times (whenever those were), one tends not to think about prisons and their residents unless there is some special reason.  There’s a reason now — it’s the virus, and I don’t mean only the risk of contagion in crowded quarters, which has already been recognized as a huge danger.

No, it was when I heard that quarantine in the prisons entailed cutting off family visits that I began to pay attention.  Seen from the outside, of course it makes total sense.  But that was pushing the prisoners just too far.  There were violent revolts in prisons around the country, with some victims.  Then a few prisoners started writing.

On Saturday, March 21 the Gazzettino published a long open letter that the inmates of three prisons — in Venice, Padova and Vicenza — sent to the President of the Republic, the Prime Minister, and Pope Francis.

Slightly shortened and translated by me:

“Like everyone in the outside world, we are very worried about this Coronavirus now classified as a pandemic, that involves everybody without distinction and that is inevitably changing everybody’s life…..

As is natural, we who are among the “last” of society are feeling anguish about those outside these walls, just as they are feeling it about us.

The conditions in which we’re living are difficult, in some cases impossible (note: overcrowding is a national scandal).  Someone could say that in the Veneto, all things considered, the situation isn’t the worst (but we can assure you that this would be a war between the poor), just as someone could say that we deserve prison.

For the great majority, that’s true, but we deserve punishment, not torture.  Our liberty has to be removed, but not dignity, the right to health, the right to live.  We respect the restrictions imposed on us, but we don’t accept all of them.  For example, some measures that have been taken in light of the emergency, intended to contain the virus, such as the suspension of family visits, the activities of volunteers and their associations, the “reward” permissions and the activities of the officials (guards).

Prisoners during the Venetian Republic had time on their hands and heavy thoughts on their hearts.  Many of them found some kind of tool that was perfect for gouging graffiti in the stone of their cells — the usual things: names, dates, imprecations, affirmations of innocence, pictures of martyred saints who looked like them (not made up, there’s an amazing Saint Sebastian graffito in the Doge’s Palace prison).  But  this lion deserves special mention, lying as he is on what was the sill of the barred window of somebody’s cell.

We are struggling, Mr. President and Your Holiness, to understand the goodness of these choices.  We’d like for you to understand how dramatic these choices are for us.  A visit, even if only one hour a week, a word of comfort from a volunteer, some activity even if only intermittent, are little things that keep us alive.  Maybe so much distress wouldn’t have been so violently shown if the decisions had been communicated to the prisoners keeping in mind the pain that they would have caused and immediately giving, at the same time, the possibility to telephone every day, and to talk via Skype more often…..

We are making this appeal for all incarcerated people in Italy (and soon this problem will be experienced in other European countries and the world), but we permit ourselves to make it also for the personnel of the prison administration, first of all the agents.  Today we all have to be united to fight the same thing, not between ourselves.  The game of cops and robbers doesn’t matter anymore, here we are playing with each person’s life.

The “merit” that this “damned virus” might have is, on one hand, whether we want to or not, it puts us all on the same level because we all need each other, and of collaboration…The other is that it imposes on us a serious reflection, a real question on the meaning of life, of the life of each one of us, even the most derelict.

This is why it was needed immediately, though it’s never too late, a more human attention to we 61,000 prisoners and our families, and also for the nearly 45,000 persons and their families who are involved in the management of the 189 prisons….

With this letter we want to express our closeness to all the categories that despite everything and with all the difficulties of the case continue to guarantee assistance, medical care, security and control.  We want to thank all the volunteers, their absence has made us understand how precious they are and how badly we treat them sometimes.

St. Theodore (“Todaro”) with his spear, shield and dragon surmount the column in the Piazza San Marco, but what we see there is a reproduction; the original saint and his lizardy victim are here, safe in the courtyard of the Doge’s Palace.  I’m supposed to cheer for the saint, but ever since I saw the dragon up close here, all downcast and disheartened, I changed my mind.  I’m part of Team Dragon now.

We want to thank especially our angels of health: to doctors and nurses goes a symbolic but sincere hug and praise for their professionalism and humanity. We look at their actions with profound emotion.

We also feel the need to be close to all the families who have lost someone dear, we here in prison know too well what it means to lose a loved one (mother, father, wife, sons, brothers…) without being able to be near them and for many of us without even being able to attend their funeral.

In all the prisons in different ways we all are trying to help however we can.  Two examples: From the prison in Venice the inmates held a meeting and wrote a letter to make their voice heard in sign of solidarity, communicating that they have collected 1 euro per prisoner for the Intensive Care Unit of the hospital dell’Angelo in Mestre (70 contributions totaled 110 euros/$119.08).

At the prison “Due Palazzi” of Padova among many activities one in particular has to do with the world of health.  The work group, despite the difficulties, fear and worry, continue to make their small contribution furnishing the CUP service (appointment reservations for the hospital in Padova and Mestre). You can’t imagine what it means to be able to make our contribution in a moment like this — it makes us feel alive!

We’re not looking for praise or thanks, we’re proud of our little contribution that we make with patience and dedication to people who are vulnerable in this moment as never before.

Our families are very worried about us, just as we are worried about them.  The prisons aren’t immune from danger, on the contrary, they’re particularly vulnerable considering the condition they’re in.  In this regard we ask how the contagion is going to be dealt with, considering the overcrowding and the same structures that don’t permit the essential standards of security.

We’re not a little worried about the circular put out by the chief of DAP (Department of Prisons): The personnel of the Penitentiary Police who are working in prisons must continue to work even if they’ve had contact with infected persons, because they are “essential public workers,” and so must “guarantee…the operation of the activities of the penal institutions” and therefore “safeguard the order and security of the public collective.”  It seems to us like a provocation in bad taste!

We have among us people with grave pathologies such as diabetics, people with heart disease, invalids, people with respiratory problems, especially the elderly, and many, many drug addicts, persons with serious depression and psychiatric pathologies — if you’ll permit us to say so, it’s a human dump.

All of us….want to launch a call for help but also an invitation to provide for containing the virus within the prisons and the problem of overcrowding, because the two are connected….

We’d like to remind you, Mr. President of the Republic, that all the institutions have the responsibility and duty to care also for the weakest and defenseless of society.

To “our” Pope Francis, we say thank you, and don’t worry if the powerful don’t listen to you, or listen very little, we love you.

In this very particular moment, in which we are all a little more equal, we are very trusting that our cry for help will not fall on deaf ears.

Signed:  The inmates of the Casa di Reclusione Due Palazzi di Padova, Casa di Reclusione della Giudecca di Venezia, Casa Circondariale di Vicenza

Sign on the facade of the prison in Ravenna, placed by prisoners and guards. (Photo: ravennatoday.it)

(As of today, the President and the Premier have responded via the newspaper, with many thanks and expressions of appreciation, etc.  Actions remain to be seen, but no deaf ears, in any case.)

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Ten-minute break

I need to take a deep breath at least once a week.  Let’s all do that.

“I thought it was love, but instead it was Saturday.”
Cats are always cool with “sheltering in place.”  As for self-isolating, they invented it.
Our neighborhood boating/fishing supply store manages to cram everything anyone could ever rationally need into a fairly small space. Among everything else, this display contains one exceptionally important piece of nautical equipment.
A corkscrew. “You’d be amazed how many people ask me if we’ve got one,” Mattia told me.  I doubt that they ask for “Red Wine Opener,” as it says on the label; I understand specialization, but if by some wild chance I were to want to drink some Soave, or Bianco di Custoza, or Verduzzo or Malvasia, would I be forced to buy a corkscrew somewhere else? “Red Wine Opener” — what the heck kind of category is that?
Via Garibaldi at 7:30 this morning.  There is NOBODY, and yet: A dog has pooped, and somebody has rolled right through it.  (My brilliant powers of deduction lead me to suppose this is a relic from yesterday afternoon — the width of the wheels implies a shopping trolley, as does the direction of the tracks, toward the Coop supermarket.  But that still means that with scarcely anybody on the street, the person still went straight through it.)  It’s enough to make you believe in fate.
Henry James said that the two most beautiful words in the English language are “summer afternoon,” but I’m going with “morning sunshine.”
The only thing that could make these pansies more wonderful is the thing they’re hanging from: The old bell-pull attachment (see the handle amid the petals) that once served some upstairs apartment.  You still see some of these bits around, and very occasionally one that still works, like this one in our neighborhood.
I have actually heard little old ladies complain about this cat; they say it’s dirty and shouldn’t be permitted to do this.  All I know is that the cat is obviously the owner — as all cats are — so you can see that there would be no point in lodging a complaint.
Mariska and Luca had just re-affirmed their wedding vows and half the neighborhood showed up to surprise them when they came out.
The streets may be empty, but we’re still here.
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The mayor’s Philippic

Thursday the number of deaths in Italy surpassed the number in China.  What makes that even worse is that the number of infected cases in China has stopped, while the number in Italy is still rising.

We think our cities are deserted?  The Chinese medical team in Milan was stunned to see how many people are out in the streets.  The message still doesn’t seem to be getting through to a large number of people.

So the rules are being tightened.  Dogs have to be walked, everybody knows that.  But now the owners will be permitted to walk them only as far as 200 meters (656 feet) from their house.  No more using Fido as an excuse to take a delightful hour-long stroll.  And temptation is now going to be mitigated by the closing of parks and gardens and beaches.

Our Coop supermarket will be closed for the next two Sundays, as will the Prix.  The signs announcing this cite the exhaustion of the staff, their need to rest and to be with their families.  Totally credible.  My own theory is that this is a bold new way to hit the brakes on this juggernaut.  No supermarket, no earthly reason to be out of the house.  It may  be that the Coop’s next move will be to shorten their usually long, luxurious hours to only 8:00 AM to 3:00 PM, which would be another reason to make everybody go home.

But last Sunday Gianfilippo Bancheri snapped.  He’s the mayor of the Sicilian town of Delia (pop. 4,218), and he doesn’t need Chinese doctors to tell him that too many people aren’t taking the quarantine seriously.  The transcript of his cri de coeur, translated by me, is below.  I’m showing the clip because you have to hear his tone of voice, and watch his face (up to and including the dark circles under his eyes, to which he acidly refers) to get the full impact.

If I were a citizen of Delia, I’d be embarrassed to hear myself talked about like this in front of the world.  I wonder if they’re all pretending it didn’t happen.  I hope not.

“Good evening to everybody.

Yesterday evening around 10:00 one of our neighbors was examined by 118 (the ambulance number) and was taken to the hospital to be checked for a suspected case of COVID-19.  She was swabbed and a little while ago the health director, Dr.  Marcella Santino, communicated to me that the result was negative.  So it is not a suspected case of coronavirus.  And therefore we send her our best wishes as citizens for a good recovery.

Having said that, we need to pay attention to a few situations that are occurring.  Lots of you have made big signs written “Andra’ tutto bene.”  Many are writing it on Facebook and by messages.  But I want to understand how everything is going to be all right.

How is everything going to be all right if we continue to go out, every day, to do the shopping, when you can do the shopping once every ten days?  How is everything going to be all right if every day people go out to buy cigarettes?  Instead of taking  — well, I don’t smoke, but that’s not the point – buy a batch of them and keep them at home.  No, instead they go out every day to get cigarettes.

How is everything going to be all right if people go out every day to the gas station?  What purpose does this gasoline serve if you have to stay at home?  How is everything going to be all right if lots of people ask to have their hair done at home?  To have the hair stylist come to their house?  This hair – what’s it for?  This hair, done in this moment, what’s it for?  Have I made myself understood?

How is everything going to be all right if lots of people call me to talk about going to have a little run (corsetta)?  Because they’re stressed.  Guys, I’ve run 20 years, with ups and downs, more than 20 years.  And in Delia we runners are 20 people, maximum.  But now everybody in Delia has become a runner?  Everybody wants to run.  But where are you running, when the last time you ran was at the outdoor festival in elementary school?  Where are you going to run?

Do we want to be serious people?  They call me, ‘Mayor, I have to go to Canicatti (9 km/5 miles) to do the shopping.’  You can’t go to Canicatti to do the shopping.  You have to shop in Delia, except for some life-saving medicine, a food for some intolerance.

They call me, ‘Mayor, my dog eats the treats that they only sell in Caltanisetta’ (23 km/14 miles away). Do we call this being serious?  Do we call this being serious?  Do we call this common sense?  People who have children who come from outside Sicily, because we’re all one red zone?  And the family members go out?  And we have to reprimand them?

Today on Sunday there are people out in the countryside to roast meat, to barbecue.  Are we joking?  We’re playing with our skin (meaning life) and that of everybody in town?  Having parties in your apartment building.  I went just today, on Sunday, and there was the whole building.  What about contagion?  Stay home means stay with only my family, not with the neighbors.  I’d like to see what sort of rapport you have with these neighbors.  All these good neighbors are suddenly in Delia?  All these good relationships with the neighbors are in Delia?  People who make the big signs saying “Andra’ tutto bene” are having parties because the big sign has to be beautiful so they call cousins, friends, to make the sign.  That is contagion!  That is the risk of contagion, do you want to understand it, or not?

‘Stay home’ doesn’t mean to have a party.  What are we talking about?  And somebody says to me, ‘Mayor, we need to thank those who are staying home.’  No!  I tried out that phrase and no!  Those who are staying home are doing their duty, which today is obligatory.  Today it is obligatory to remain at home.

We need to thank those who are in the trenches, because in Italy we’re really good at turning things upside down.  We need to thank the thousands of doctors, nurses, paramedics, the forces of public order (police in their various forms), associations of volunteers, mayors, the people who are in the trenches, or in the streets to protect the multitude that doesn’t give a fuck.  My colleague the mayor of Niscemi said the same thing, people are just messing around, just goofing off, and it’s true.

‘We’re stressed to stay at home, we’re stressed.’  With the telephone, with the Internet connection, with the television, with eating, we’re stressed.  Stressed are people who get sent to war, not those who are sent to stay at home.  And why do we sing “Azzurro Azzurro” from the balconies if we’re going out to do the shopping every day?  Where is the consistency?  Where is the consistency?  Where is respect, ours for the others?  Do we want to stop this, or not?

Today I was at the municipal police, we denounced certain persons to the judicial authority, and we’re going to continue to do it.

Today, Sunday, I went out to tear people off a strip, people who are grown, vaccinated (it’s an Italian expression meaning adult), but I’m hardheaded because this evening people are sending messages asking “Mayor, who is this lady, what do we need to do?”  But we have to go out and let others take care of it.  Because the problem is somebody else’s.  The problem is always far away from us.

But we’re playing with everybody’s ass and the responsibility of the Carabinieri, mine, the doctors, of those who are taking risks for you.  Do you regard this as decency?  Excuse me.  Do you regard this as correctness?  It’s not correctness, it’s selfishness, it’s cretinism, it’s stupidity, it’s superficiality.

Somebody says to me, ‘Come on, mayor, we mustn’t be alarmed.’  How must we not be alarmed?  How do we not need to be alarmed?  It’s a pandemic.  It’s not an epidemic anymore, it’s a pandemic.  And we shouldn’t be alarmed?  When do people think we ought to be alarmed, if not for a pandemic?  Excuse me, when should people be alarmed?

Do we want to be serious, or not?  Do we want to act like intelligent people, or not?  All these parties at home with friends.  Does someone actually have a neuron in their head?  Does somebody have a neuron, or are all the neurons extinguished?

And they say, ‘Mayor, you’ve got dark circles under your eyes.  You’re tired, you need to rest.’  But when must I rest?  I risk every day like the others, like the doctors, like the nurses, like the Carabinieri, like the volunteers.

It’s others who are taking the risks and people who are staying home are stressed.  Stressed.  “I have to go out, take a walk, do a little run, walk the dog,” they pass at this time of night under my window.  But this dog, how many times does he need to piss?  Take the dog out, go around your house and go back home.  Don’t take a walk.

The blockhead with the stroller, ‘I’m going to my sister.’ Going to your sister?  You’re supposed to be at home.  Do you understand, or no?

I hope I’ve been clear.  I hope I’ve been clear.  In any case, you should know that we are going to start issuing denunciations, because it’s right that who errs, pays.  It’s right that who is wrong has to be penalized and denounced.  And if someone evidently someone can’t manage to connect their brain, it’s not because they’re slow because they’re retarded.  Why retarded?  That’s what we’re talking about.

Thank you.  Good evening to you all.”

“I don’t have legs to disseminate myself.  I use those of the imbeciles.”  In the 24 hours between 8:00 PM on March 20 and 8:00 PM March 21 the police have issued 10,000 denunciations of people for being out of their houses without a valid reason.  I didn’t really appreciate how many imbeciles there are at the moment.

 

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Just stay home already

The headline this morning: “Virus, another two deaths, too many people are ignoring the prohibitions.”

I know I promised you the mayor of Delia first thing today, but I decided to post this first.  Think of it as part of the overture before the curtain goes up.

There are so many facets to daily life in this extraordinary interval that it may be pointless to try to keep up.  And I’m not sure a daily “Cyrano’s Gazette” would even be interesting after a while.

Still, a riffle through the newspapers today shows that too many people in the Veneto still haven’t grasped the basic concepts of quarantine.  The first basic concept is “Do not exit your front door.”  Second concept: “This is going to annoy and inconvenience you.”  Third concept: “This isn’t just about you, buddyroe.”  Yet too many people are clearly annoyance-and-inconvenience-intolerant, if not openly allergic.

This is what your world is supposed to look like, though maybe without the canal.  No people.

As for the blithe spirits who continue to wander far from home and hearth in blatant contravention of the order (note: It’s not a request, it’s not a suggestion, it’s not an opinion) to stay home?  We don’t have to look far to find them.

The Carabinieri of the province* of Venice have stopped some 30 wanderers to inquire why the hell they (the wanderers) are not only outside their house, but even outside their province?  “My garden has immediate need of topsoil (terriccio).”  (I realize people have to care for their animals’ needs, but you’ll just have to muffle the demands from the begonias.)

“I have to meet my lover near the stadium.”  (Standard practice here would be that the Carabinieri immediately check on the whereabouts of the lover too.  So two people are now in the soup.)  This swain was not only outside his province, but outside his region — he lives in Friuli.

A bar in Favaro Veneto, six miles from Venice, was open at 9:00 AM (the hour is immaterial: it was open) serving drinks to a merry gathering of nine.  All of them were reported — that’s the official denunciation, plus undoubtedly a fine — including the owner of the bar.

The same case in a bar in the town of Santa Maria di Sala, and also in Passarella, a little postage-stamp of a village outside San Dona’, whose complaisant owner opened his bar for some people (it’s a small town, they could even all be relatives) who were found playing cards. The classic excuse of “I wasn’t there, and if I was, I was sleeping” cuts no ice at all these days.  All of them were fined, and the bars are now what the police mean by “closed.”  In these cases the Carabinieri typically attach a notice to the door: “Sotto sequestro” — impounded.  If you try to sneak into an impounded place to have a nightcap, this would indicate that your passion for gambling — not with cards, but with your next few years — has risen to a whole new level.

In other fragments of the hinterland, the respective owners of a pizzeria, a bar, and a pastry shop were all discovered to be conducting business as usual, and now they’re not.  To paraphrase the song, what part of “closed” do you not understand?

Just to remain in the nautical idiom.

Speaking of which, for the next two Sundays the supermarkets will be closed.  Translation:  Get your shopping done early, because that reason for being out has been removed.  You will have no motive whatever, apart from relieving the dog, to be outside your house, or driving around in your car, on your unicycle, on waterskis, on your feet, on anything.

I feel sorry for the dog, though; he’ll be worn to a nub by how many times he’s going to be taken outside on Sunday.  Now that I think of it, I’m waiting to hear that some clever dog owner (or ten) has offered to rent their pet for a small consideration.  It will happen.

This morning I went to do some topping-up shopping in order to remove any necessity of going to the store tomorrow on the eve of the first supermarket closure.  Too bad I can’t go out and photograph the lines, they ought to be considerable.

Our trash collection service has accelerated.  The old routine was that two men (both adorable, I have to say), each with his big handcart, would arrive in our little side street between 8:15 and 8:25.  Maybe 8:30.  One cart was for kitchen garbage, the other for the recyclables of the day, either paper or plastic/glass/cans.

The past two days, though, the two have disappeared, and one new man (probably also adorable, but his mask makes it hard to tell) shows up at 8:00 or 8:05 with just one cart into which everything goes.  And he doesn’t wait around.

I asked him why he’s suddenly passing by so early, and he said — in a rather rushed manner — “We’re short-staffed, and also we have to finish by 10:00.”  First we were running low on doctors, now it’s garbage collectors.  And coming up are the officers of the law — the Carabinieri, etc. are thinning out, which is one reason why the Army will be joining the quarantine control brigade.

This is to help me keep my smile in working order. I hope to use it again at some point.

The mayor of Conegliano is ready to take on his citizens who can’t resist (God, they’re everywhere!) going out walking or running or bicycling among the lovely vine-draped hills of the surrounding Prosecco-producing area.  Starting tomorrow, the police are going to be sending up drones, three at a time, to surveille the landscape. The mayor’s pretty conscientious to have fired this warning shot.  I’d have just sent the drones up and then hauled in the nets, full of thrashing quarantine-breakers.

It appears that there’s one thing we are never going to run out of, and that’s the special cases who are totally incapable of changing their routine, or hearing anything outside their own cranial cavity.  These people remind me of the horses I used to ride in Central Park in New York, long years ago.  They were so broken-down mentally from doing the same circuit all day that only by near violence could you make them respond to your commands and not those of their muscle memory.  “At the second oak tree we’ll trot,” their inner voice said, and it would take a while for them to notice the outer voice, which was me, saying “Actually, no, WE WON’T.”  I bet they talked about me once they were back in their stalls.

“Why doesn’t she want to trot at the oak tree?  Does she want to wait till we reach the ginkgo?  Why?”

“Boy, I’ve had some weird ones, but she was the worst.”

“She’s coming back tomorrow.”

“Maybe she’ll forget….”

 

  • A “region” in Italy (there are 20) corresponds roughly to the states of the United States.  The Veneto is a region.  The regions are sub-divided into provinces, a large area surrounding a major town, which gives the province its name.  The Veneto is made up of 7 provinces, Venice being one of them.

 

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