After the storm: life in Italy today

Italy has provided a glimpse into the future for much of the world throughout the coronavirus crisis as we were a bit ahead of the curve. Now that restrictions have largely lifted, and the contagion rate is still falling, here’s a look at what life is like this week.

Covid-19 testing is easy, available, and cheap

My son, Sebastian, was invited to join a friend and his family to go sailing for two weeks. Before anyone could get on the boat a Covid-19 test was needed. We called our doctor, he wrote a prescription, we walked into a lab and were out in five minutes. It cost 25€ for two tests — current infection and antibodies — and we had the results in 24 hours.

Donella just flew back to the UK and left from the Florence airport which has just reopened. She was greeted by a big tent outside the entrance for departures. The first area of the tent was for disinfection — a head to toe spray for her and a complete spray of checked and carry on bags. After that she passed through another tent where you could get a blood draw to check for active Covid-19 and antibodies for 10€ and results in 20 minutes. She was delighted to have this test, got her negative results, and then walked over to check in. Everyone in the airport was wearing masks and there were very few travelers.

Track and trace is almost here

Italy has standardized on a track and trace app (unfortunately there is not a standard one across the EU which is a huge missed opportunity). It has been released in a few regions in beta and is expected to roll out nationwide in a couple of weeks. So far the beta, with little promotion, has had over 500,000 downloads (which is pretty amazing in a total population of 60 million). I downloaded it and it is simple and elegant, although not yet functional in my area of Tuscany. It sits in the background and anonymously tracks anyone you get into one meter of who has the app. If any of those people later test positive the system notifies all people they were in proximity to. All info is stored locally on your phone and complies with the strict EU data privacy standards.

Mask wearing is ubiquitous

I’ve heard of some corners of Italy where masks are not universal, but here in my corner of the world, it is rare to see a person without one. I even spot people alone in their cars wearing masks. I went to the Wednesday market in town for the first time since it restarted and everyone was masked and respecting social distancing. If there was a narrow area people would hold back waving me through first so that we wouldn’t pass by too closely. When I take my daily hike in the countryside nearly everyone is masked — and when I walk I usually only pass a person or two so not high density — and when we pass on the wide trail everyone scoots as far apart as possible, which is a distance of several meters. I saw a sign at the market yesterday asking people to leave at least a cinghiale’s length (a wild boar) between everyone.

Our village had a case

The mayor told the village yesterday that a resident of our village who was working in another region had tested positive after they had visited home for the weekend. They were asymptomatic and the routine testing had caught it. Everyone they’d interacted with had been notified, were in quarantine, and had reported negative. The mayor shared this over Facebook and the comment section was lively. The comments were overwhelmingly that we had worked so hard, and sacrificed so much, to get to where we are and this is a reminder of how now we have to double down on precautions even more as Italy opens up. That even if we are now legally allowed to do more, more freedom must be accompanied by more responsibility and vigilance. The more crotchety comments questioned whether we should allow people who had been in other regions into the village at all, and just exactly how much of an ass this person was for traveling before they had the results of their test.

Italy’s success in its response to coronavirus is also why it was hit so hard

Why has the Italian response to lockdown and reopening been so different than the US and UK, as examples? My best guess about why the numbers were so high was largely due to how early in the pandemic Italy had the virus in circulation, partially due to the close trade and manufacturing ties between China and Italy.

But it also must have to do with how integral grandparents are to the Italian culture, and how many grandparents live with family or are frequently visited by family (usually weekly). People over 70 account for 80% of deaths from Covid-19 in Italy — the average age of death is 81. Italy is second only to Japan in the percentage of people over 65 in the population, and has one of the highest life expectancies in the world (the life expectancy for Italian women is a whopping 86 years.) Because older Italians are a vital part of life, and per capita there are a lot of them around, they were much more exposed .

The response to the epidemic wasn’t perfect, as the investigation by victim’s families attests, but Wuhan and Italy served as early tests of what worked and what didn’t.

And what caused Italy to be hit so hard — connection to family, sense of campanilismo, or attachment above all to one’s own local community or literally bell tower — is also why it has been successful so far in containment. There hasn’t been the same debate as in the US or UK about personal liberty versus community good. There has been very little of the famous Italian trait of being furbo, or trying to outfox rules and regulations, but in my experience just this attitude of “Let’s do this” to protect the vulnerable and rid Italy of yet another in a long list of plagues.

Once again I am proud, and humbled, to be part of my village.

Sunday wasn’t like Sunday

What’s it like in Italy as quarantine begins to lift?

Let me tell you what didn’t happen last Sunday. It was May 3rd and our village did not celebrate one of its most important festivals, Festa del Santissimo Crocifisso, which dates back for no one knows how many centuries. In the morning the wooden crucifix from the 1300s was left in place and not carried through the streets. The members of the Misericordia, the largely volunteer group that was founded in the 1200s to care for plague victims — still at the frontline of healthcare providing paramedics and ambulances — did not dress in their black hooded robes and slowly process through the village.

Grandmothers did not create intricate designs with flower petals on the cobblestones to celebrate the confirmation of this year’s crop of young Catholics who did not dress all in white and disperse the flowers with their feet as they walked down the steep street after their First Communion. There were no celebratory Sunday lunches with extended family.

The antique, hand painted tombola board was not wheeled into the square next to the temporary stage to get ready for the evening. Dusk fell as usual but hundreds of villagers did not crowd the square to await the tombola, a bingo-like game with a winning prize of 1,200€.

The numbers of 1-100 were not read aloud over the creaky loudspeaker, each number verified by a child who is deemed beyond corruption, before being carefully rolled up and placed in a glass container to be randomly drawn. No one had the winning card and no one won the backup prize, which is often a prosciutto. The Misericordia did not receive the proceeds from the annual fundraiser.

There were no fireworks afterwards. No young loves, eager for summer, sharing kisses. No grandparents watched the sky, wondering if this fireworks show might be their last.

It was not like May 3rd at all.

But things did happen. Families went outside to exercise for the first time in two months with masks and a hall-pass of a self-declared permission slip in hand. A little girl learned to ride her bicycle on a gravel road. Tractors worked the fields overtime plowing under young fava bean cover crops to get ready to plant the tobacco. People debated the word congiunto, which the government said is OK to visit, but only in one’s own region. It means co-joined, kin, but Italians don’t agree on what kind of relationship it actually covers. Does it extend new boyfriends or distant in laws? Memes were created and shared. The seriousness of relationships questioned.

Searching for a kin at the beach…

The first poppies appeared. Once again mushroom hunters went out to forage. Builders and factory workers rested after their first week back on the job. The cuckoos are having their brief stopover on their way to Africa. The two mockingbirds on either side of our house compete for girl birds from dark until well into daylight joined by the roosters a few hours before dawn. Que es mas macho, rooster o mockingbird? to pose Laurie Anderson’s question.

And my Sunday? Cooked, ate, walked, and tried to figure out why my mood is dropping as the quarantine is lifting. The lockdown was so binary. There was life before and now a completely altered state. The rules were clear. It was hard and sharp and clean, without ambiguity. I didn’t try to picture what comes after. Now I am realizing how difficult the “after” will be. So many shades of gray. The sense of fear and constant assessment of possible paths to exposure. The damage assessment of local businesses. The different tolerances for risk in every family and the frictions and discussions about everyone’s behaviors as individual actions so profoundly affect the group.

And the loss. Of innocence. Of freedom. Of spontaneity. Of gathering. We will adapt, because we do, and we will find joy and life in this interim period, because we must. This gives me hope and I am humbled to be here, in my village, among the Italians who are some of the most joyful and filled with life people in the world. Their example of nearly universal support for the quarantine has been humbling. That sometimes you pull together and do what is necessary to protect others an inspiration. I am a willing student to see how they create what comes next.

Que es mas macho? Virus o una nonna?

Three weeks into Italian lockdown and what helps

It’s hard to imagine life was once any other way. Going out for lunch, seeing friends, or even stopping for a coffee belong to another existence that’s so foreign that I hardly even miss these things. And it is almost impossible to imagine a future that is different than this limbo. Finding a balance as the world rocks is a fresh challenge every day.

Here’s some context of what Italian lockdown means.  If we leave the property (even on foot) we need to have a form filled out declaring why we are out (emergency, doctor’s appointment, to buy food) and if we don’t have the declaration, or it’s not deemed appropriate, the fine can be up to €3000. A dog walk needs to be within 200 meters of the house. We can’t leave our village to go to the next one. The mandate to wear face masks outside the property will likely be imposed tomorrow, joining the nearby village decrees. Every restaurant has been closed for the duration so breaking the cooking routine with take-out is impossible.

But even with these extreme measures the virus marches on. Yesterday our village of 5,000 announced the first two positive cases.

Three weeks into lockdown here are a few things that I’m trying hard to do:

Grab every good moment and hold tight. I look hard for lovely moments and when I find them I hold them close to my heart for a few extra seconds. For me it’s when the light hits the valley in a certain way. The unexpected snow we had (photo above). When the whole family was in the garden planting a hedge. A line from a song. Evening fires. The dog and the cats, almost always, especially when Lola flies through the snow.

Be kind. The few times I go out I thank the people who are doing the essentials to keep the world moving. When I thanked the masked checkout clerk at the grocery store for being there for us and she got tears in her eyes. I thanked the postal woman for working as she slipped a package through our gate with gloved hands. And inside the house we are all cooped up together and it helps to step back and cut everyone some slack. I am finding that every act of kindness takes away a bit of the black knot of fear. I’d love to go further and shop for elderly people, or prepare meals for them, but it is too risky that we might spread the virus to them.

On a Facebook group for the village a woman posted that if anyone was having a hard time affording food for themselves or their families to turn to her and she would do what she can, with no judgement. Immediately others started chiming in, some in very tough financial situations, offering things that they could donate.

We lost one Olympics but gained a more meaningful one. It makes me happy that the scientific community is racing to understand and mitigate the virus and create a vaccine. John has likened it to a kind of Olympics of humanity with many people from all over the planet working around the clock to solve this thing, and to help others. More medals will be earned than we could ever give out.

We are all just people. So many friends are mentioning that video conferencing is breaking down the carefully constructed barriers between our professional and private selves. I vowed a few years ago not to work with anyone who I couldn’t really be myself with and it has changed everything. I think this is especially true for women who often need to be perfect professionals and sweep all evidence of a family and conflicting needs under the rug when they go to work. l hope this portal into people’s real lives changes the way we relate when things get back to a new normal.

Turn off the screens. I am working hard so hard at this one and failing most days. I have realized that I don’t need to know all the latest all the time. It provides a false sense of control but it actually just keeps me spinning. I am trying to check the news less — a bit in the morning and in the evening when the Italian infection and death rates are announced.

Cook. This is the centerpiece of what is keeping me sane. Creating something delicious and nurturing fills my soul with what I need. Tomorrow I want to start a WhatsApp group of inspired cooks I know to share what they are making. It would be fun to get inspiration from friends.

Ride the rollercoaster. Some days are much, much better than others. And some moments are awful. Like yesterday when I could barely get out of bed. The kindness clause above probably also applies to me. Meditation and walks help even things out.

And I saw fresh wolf tracks near the house. With the absence of humans wildlife is expanding their range.

How Italians are handling the lockdown with grace and style

Italians have never really had much of a national identity, with the exception of during the World Cup. Instead one’s allegiance is with the village, and maybe with the nearby villages or towns when a question of regional pride comes up. But this lockdown is different. There’s pride in the air about doing this extraordinary thing for the common good. Marry that to an insatiable need to connect, share, and be social and some creative and touching things happen. I feel an overwhelming sense that we are alone in our homes but all in this together. Right there now there is 70% approval rating in what the Italian government is doing and 70% of Italians agreeing on anything is a miracle.

All countries will handle lockdowns in their own way, with some novel ideas to burn off stress and connect, but I wanted to share a few things that have happened this week in Italy.

The stay-at-home flash mob idea is big. You’ve probably seen an article about it but my Italian friends are sharing videos from all over the country — the streets are truly filled with music. There’s some coordination through social media instructing people to open windows at a certain time and sing the national anthem, or a pop song popular in the 1970s, or a locally popular ballad. Six in the evening is a popular time for this and our village bells rang and rang in solidarity with the people singing yesterday, according to a friend of mine who is sequestered at the top of the hill in the old section and nearer the action.  I dare you to watch this short video and not cry. (It was shot by Jacopo Losco, a first year university student in Milan, from his house and sent by a friend.)

Tonight we turned on flashlights from our windows at 9pm. People where waving the lights back and forth and calling out “Ciao!” across the small valley.

A Milanese friend says that everyone goes to their windows and applauds at noon in honor of the medical community and support staff who haven’t left hospitals in weeks. People are also lighting candles and putting them in windows in appreciation.

“It will be fine.” Kids all over the country are creating drawings of rainbows with the phrase “Andrà tutto bene” and placing them in windows. I went to the grocery store today and passed several. It warms the heart.

Life at the grocery store. John went yesterday, I went today, and we both had similar experiences. He got there at a bit before opening and there were about eight people in line ahead, everyone waiting very patiently. They let one person in at a time, with time for them put on the plastic gloves by the door and go into the store, and then they let in the next person. When I went today is was during the sacred Sunday Lunch so the store was empty. Both times everything was fully stocked, EVEN TOILET PAPER. Staff masked and friendly. All but a very few customers in masks. Clear demarcation on the floor for the “distance of respect” between people waiting in line. Both experiences were so calm and orderly. It seems to be that people feel like the government has the fundamentals — food, fuel, trash pickup — under control and they don’t need to hoard.

Online school is going well, so far. My friends’ kids who are continuing school virtually seem to be enjoying it. My friend in Milan said her daughter in middle school gets up every morning and gets dressed for online school. Her athletics teacher is even holding remote yoga classes, requesting that students get on their mats on video camera.

Pornhub is waiving their subscription fee for Italy. At least from what I’ve heard.

Signs of Italian pride are growing. People are starting to hang Italian flags from balconies. And this display from the air force with a sound track of Pavarotti singing Nessun Dorma, “let no one sleep”, is moving. And not in a chest-bounding, nationalistic way.

Italians are keeping a sense of humor. Here are two different memes that I particularly love playing on Italian women’s devotion to salons, and hair removal. The salons are, of course, all closed. Both memes show what Italian women will look like when the lockdown lifts (which was originally said to be April 3, but clearly no one knows. Which means it could be worse than this.)

Meanwhile I just got an alert that the death toll in the last 24 hours was a staggering 368. 

I wanted to close with something circulating on Italian social media:

“This is an opportunity to turn an emergency into an opportunity of solidarity and unity. Let’s change the way we see and think. I will no longer say “I’m afraid of this contagion” or “I don’t care about this contagion”, but it is I who will sacrifice for you.

I worry about you.
I keep a distance for you.
I wash my hands for you.
I give up that trip for you.
I’m not going to the concert for you.
I’m not going to the mall for you.

For you!

For you who are inside an ICU room.
For you who are old and frail, but whose life has value as much as mine.
For you who are struggling with cancer and can’t fight this too.

Please, let’s rise to this challenge!

Come together…nothing else matters.”

I think Italy has come together like never before and I’m proud to be a part of it.