A chill in the air

When I was heading out for my walk today I spotted this amazing rainbow and John was able to get this photo out our bedroom window. It reminded me of what my mother used to say when I was really little and we spotted a rainbow. “That’s God’s promise that he won’t kill all of us again by using water. It will probably be fire next time and we will all be burned.” Why she thought that this would be a good thing to tell a small child would fill a book, which I do not intend to write, but my mother did have a gift for worrying. It’s a good thing that a pandemic, divinely sent or not, never crossed her mind.

The days are getting shorter, as are our leashes. Life had pretty much returned to normal in Italy over the summer, albeit with the new accessories of masks and hand sanitizer. Outdoor spaces and nice weather were abundant so it was easy to eat out, catch a drink with friends, or have a morning coffee pretty safely. Stores have been open and operating normally for months, although it is required to be masked and sanitize before entering. But it was kinda easy to let worry subside, fill up on socializing, sunshine, and freedom of movement, storing away those experiences like bits of gold for the soul. And when cases were averaging a couple of hundred a day, out of a nation of 60 million, this felt appropriate. I felt so very lucky when friends and family in other parts of the world have remained in virtual lockdown since spring.

Things have changed. As temperatures have started to drop cases are surging again. There is a new worry and seriousness on people’s faces. Even though everyone has been 100% masked in the grocery store throughout the summer there was a lightness and normalcy that’s fading fast. Fewer people are stopping to chat, the contents of carts are getting bigger, and eyes above the masks look concerned.

The slide back to a lockdown is happening quickly. The first sign I had that things were getting serious was when the Italian government announced a couple of weeks ago a warning that Sunday lunches were of grave concern. This may seem like an odd government warning to people outside of Italy but here Sunday lunch, culturally more than Friday night drinks or Saturday evenings out, is the main event of the week. Families gather en masse with everyone in attendance from babies and toddlers to recalcitrant teens to young families through to the very elderly with much conversation and hugging. Although a lot of lunches occur in homes it is almost impossible to book a restaurant Sunday at lunchtime. If you are lucky enough to get a place you often find you are sandwiched between long tables with dozens of people, all related. There’s a loud din as people from one end of the table are trying to catch up with others across six or seven people in the middle. Kids are underfoot everywhere. And it is a wonderful thing to behold. And a petri dish in action. If I happen to be driving on a Sunday around 1:30 the roads are empty. Stores are deserted. It’s like Superbowl Sunday. This tradition is starting slipping a bit — several families of Donella and Sebastian’s friends don’t do the formal Sunday lunch anymore — but Sunday lunch is still ubiquitous enough to merit a nationwide government warning aimed at the very heart of Italian culture.

This primal need to be social extends to schools. Keeping schools open is of the highest priority for the government, partially due to the impact on the economy, but also because it’s felt that socialization is one of the primary benefits of school. There’s a phrase in Italian i bambini devono stare con i bambini, children should be with children, as that’s the only way they will learn the rules of getting along in society. As of right now most schools in Italy have students back in the classroom. There was an interesting article in the New York Times, written by an American pediatrician/parent living in Italy. The article quotes an American, Mary Barbera, living in Florence with a 7-year old daughter attending a local school. She describes the elaborate safety procedures and parental co-responsibility pacts that are in place. “Personally, I think Italians have a better inherent sense of common good and taking care of each other. They understand that in order for people to be well, everyone has to follow the rules.” And from what I’ve seen locally, which is reflected in the article, there is a willingness to trust the system and other parents, and take some risks, in order for the kids to have this important socialization that was missing when academics were online.

But it is fairly inevitable that with cases surging in numbers similar to the spring that we, no matter how much we are social creatures, are headed into a dark period of more isolation as winter sets in. Some things are definitely an improvement from the spring, downloads of the trace and track app Immuni have been impressive. The app monitors via Bluetooth everyone you are around, how close you are, and for how long. If you are positive you self-report to the app which notifies the people who have been in your vicinity and might have been exposed, all anonymously, so that tests can be administered. Testing in Italy is free or low cost and widely available. When a traveler arrives at a major airport or train station there’s a tent where you can get a free, rapid result COVID test. Rome’s Fiumicino Airport was the only airport in the world to be given 5 stars by SkyTrax COVID-19 Airport Rating. Despite all of these impressive things the testing numbers are looking bad — 11,700 new cases today which is similar to the worst of the spring, although thankfully, hospitalizations and mortality are still lagging the earlier wave.

When I went for my walk my Italian neighbors clearly weren’t thinking of this beautiful rainbow as a sign that the next time God was displeased he might wipe us out by fire, or pandemic. They just thought it was beautiful. Four people had come out of their houses and were standing in the middle of our small lane taking pictures with cell phones and smiling in delight.

Although we had one of the toughest and longest lockdowns in the world I read today that 84% of Italians feel prepared to face what comes next and “are ready to face the health emergency and restrictions.” Once again I am impressed by the resilience and grace of this culture.

The Talk of the Village

It has been a busy couple of weeks around town as people emerge from quarantine.

An emergency

I was walking into the village when I heard the sirens of several emergency vehicles. To hear one at all is noteworthy, but hearing six or seven within the space of minutes is shocking. Then I heard a helicopter — I didn’t even know there was one in the area. My American mind started running wild imagining possibilities, mostly involving guns, standoffs, and some nutcase.

I later read in the paper that a man was working on the shoulder of a road when he lost his footing and fell into a big patch of wild blackberries. When he was unable to get out his friends called for help which turned out the firemen, forest service (complete with their helicopter), and ambulances. They got him out, he was treated for scratches at the hospital, and is now doing fine. The regional newspaper wrote a rather prominent article about it featuring a hero image of the helicopter, which I assume they don’t get to feature very often.

Camping complications

A group of five 17-year old guys decided to camp in the woods in the hills near here. Darkness came and they got scared when they started to listen to the noises around camp. They then packed everything up and walked back downhill through the dark to be picked up by their parents.

I’m tall, and that’s only half the story

Moving to Italy has changed my life in so many ways, not the least of which is that my towering 5’4 1/2″ self is frequently one of the taller people in a group. But most excitingly is that I’ve been told repeatedly that I have an exotic name. I was reminded this week when I ordered some bread to be reserved for me to pick up later. I clearly spelled my name over the phone but when I arrived this was waiting for me:

Yep, “Signora Nanzi”. Doesn’t get more exotic than that.

Awkward questions

The cheese guy at the market, where I get huge slabs of delicious 36-month old reggiano parmigiana for 9€ or so, wanted to know why the United States has gone crazy and is failing at controlling the coronavirus. I shared my view on the nature of our collective psyche. Meanwhile Italy’s data looks like this:

Yes, that’s right. Only 188 new cases on July 11th for all of Italy, with its population of 60 million, and this is with plentiful testing. John’s theory is that the same things that made Italy so hard hit in the beginning — lots of close intergenerational family ties and a great deal of time together — is also why it has done such a good job of following basic guidelines to keep the curve flat. There’s a sense that we are all in this together and need to take care of one another. I’ve started to see some relaxation around the edges, a guy in the grocery store with the mask pulled under his nose, two guys having a discussion in a small shop with masks both pulled down to better talk, gatherings of teens walking around on a Saturday night without masks, but in general people are still good mask-wearing, social-distancing, hand-sanitizing compatriots.

We are starting to see more and more tourists from the rest of the EU since the borders relaxed on June 3rd. The bloc decided to admit people from a list of “safe” countries as of July 1st but Italy changed its mind and is not letting any visitors in beyond the EU/Schengen zone. “The global situation remains very complex,” stated Italian Health Minister Roberto Speranza. “We must prevent the sacrifices made by Italians in recent months being in vain.”

Not that tensions don’t flare. The Guardian had an interesting article today about people from previously hard-hit towns in Northern Italy not being welcomed to book holiday rentals elsewhere in Italy, although their hometowns are now virus-free. And public beaches near Rome have been packed which has resulted in a lot of tension between the cautious and people who are not respecting distance.

I won’t be heading to the beach anytime soon.

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?