More signs stating that “Andra’ tutto bene” have appeared, so I thought I’d share them with you. One can’t have too many, that’s for sure.
Amazing how they color-coordinated the poster to the laundry. Does Giorgio Armani live there?Signed by the artists, as are most of them. Marco and Nora did a very nice job.Above the cash register at the Prix supermarket, everything is absolutely going to be all right. The cashier said, “Our kids made them.” They’re obviously destined for greatness.It’s like Christmas met Cinco de Mayo in here.I just have to put this one front and center. Rainclouds on the left side of the rainbow, heartclouds on the right. (Bonus: In the center, he’s written “Duri i banchi,” a very typical expression which roughly means “Brace yourselves on the benches.” This refers to the benches used by rowers in the Venetian galleys going into war — think Ben-Hur: “Ramming speed!” and then the collision). If there ever were a moment when this expression was needed, it would be now. I want Mirko to adopt me.And speaking of the cash register at the Prix, they have installed a large Plexiglas panel between the cashier’s face and those of the scores of passing customers. I’ll be curious to see if the Coop does the same.
Off to a foggy start this morning. Where once I might have reviled the vaporetto for ruining the scene, I have to say that now the vaporetto IS the scene. Yes, we’re still alive…..And the headlines set out by the newsstand: “Virus, 2000 city employees at home and ACTV cuts runs.” All of that was highly predictable, especially the cutting back on the vaporettos. You see them pass and they’re like the Marie Celeste (empty, but with clear signs of recent life). I will tell you the story about the funeral and the denunciation of the parish priest tomorrow.
Our small but perfectly formed walk in the early morning is our one chance to buy the Gazzettino, to breathe some air, to walk around like normal people for about 20 minutes. And inevitably I notice the signs that are stuck on doors — there seems to be a sort of progression taking place, as if we’re all coalescing around certain tiny hard truths: Distance between people, no touching, headlines, isolation.
Here are some discoveries, yesterday and today:
The government’s quarantine comes with a catchy hashtag, since that’s how we communicate now. #iorestoacasa means “I’m staying at home,” and it seems a little more jaunty to put it this way rather than “God, we’re stuck in the house together night and day we’re losing our minds,” etc. It’s succinct, it’s civic, it’s easy to remember, and on the whole it seems to be working.The people in this shop tend to sell items which are a bit unorthodox, which leads us to this notice: “Open intermittently If open we’re in the office, come in and greet us loudly (don’t cough….). If we’re closed, for urgent matters 3351227777.” That number is a little too perfect; I suspect if I were to call it, I’d just get voicemail and they’d never call back.Via Garibaldi wakes up. The trash men are out, the fruit and vegetable sellers are setting up, and the supermarkets are receiving the daily cargo, brought in those large containers you see in the middle of the street, being hauled back to the barge by the guy who drew the short straw. At least the containers are empty now.There’s more activity than the news reports give you to believe, but it appears that many try to get the shopping done first thing in the morning.Luca is handing Massimo the scale (cash register to follow), so they’re just about ready to open. That, and the never-diminishing abundance of their stock, maintains the illusion of normalcy. Don’t ever stop, you guys.In the Prix supermarket, elves have been working overnight laying perfectly spaced strips of tape one meter apart on the runway to the cash registers. Next we’ll have the person with the huge ear protectors and flashlights moving us into position.Ditto at the Coop.At the entrance to the Coop, this innovation: ” Roll of paper towels and disinfectant to use for cleaning the carts.”Shops are beginning to work half-days. The tobacco/toy store announces that they’ll be working from 9:00 AM to 1:00 PM, closed on Mondays.Also the detergent/housewares/everything store. The owners would appreciate being at home, especially if everybody else is.On the door at the Paties glasses and eye-examination store: “Communication to our Clients Based on the recent Ministerial Decree the optical stores (with a licensed optician present, not the simple eyeglasses seller) may remain open because they furnish medical devices. NEVERTHELESS My sense of responsibility toward myself and toward others obliges me to reduce as much as possible any opportunity of contagion. For this reason, OTTICA PATIES will close for the entire period established by the Italian Government. For any necessity, for example the depletion of your supply of contact lenses and liquids, an urgent need for new eyeglasses, excluding obviously the measuring of your eyesight and the application of contact lenses, for the evident impossibility to effect these safely, I invite you to contact me without any problem at 3388790493 and on WhatsApp or by email info@otticapaties.it A hug, and good luck to everybody! I’mstayingathome. Andrea Paties”This shop takes a slightly sterner tack: “Attention According to DPCM 1 March 2020 art. 2, point ‘i,’ we invite you to respect the distance of 1 meter between persons, to safeguard the health of the clients and to avoid penal sanctions and the consequent closing of the shop. We thank you for the collaboration.” I never realized that I could hold, not only my own fate, but that of an entire commercial enterprise and several generations of the owner’s family, in my hands. It’s too much. I’m going to make it two meters, minimum.The door of the trattoria “Nevodi” is beginning to resemble a university dormitory bulletin board; the only thing missing here is somebody looking for a ride to Boston on Friday. The white handwritten rectangle contains a play on words (glad somebody’s still up to it): “We will be closed for some 40 days.” The pun is “quarantena” (quarantine) and “quarantina,” which would be the normal conversational term for “forty-ish,” “more or less forty.” Everybody knows that the word “quarantine” is derived from the 40 days imposed on cargo, ships, and people suspected of being infected with plague. So this person has taken a common expression and revised it in a charmingly frivolous way. Good for you, Nevodi Staff. Meanwhile, the bigger sign shows some improvising in light of the disruption to routine resulting from closing the restaurant: “For consignment of packages (for) Colauzzi and Nevodi (go to) the fruit and vegetable vendor across the street or call 3499021934. I’ll be here in 2 minutes Thanks.”Evening draws nigh on via Garibaldi as the latest shoppers arrive and depart. Shopping takes time now; first is the wait in line to enter the supermarket, then the checkout procedure takes even more time (you can’t approach the cash register till the previous customer has paid, packed up their stuff and left). Life now requires me to adapt and to be patient — two of my least favorite things ever. Except in this case I’m not alone. It’s everybody’s routine now, and there’s no point in muttering about it.
