At Home : Letters from Italy at the time of Coronavirus. Story One : Rome.
I hear it from clients every day, those who were planning their weddings, anniversaries, family travels, first time trips. Every trip was a special one, and each one we curated with attention and delight. Each one was so eagerly anticipated !
As one multiple repeat client says : the moment I leave Italy I start to think that I cannot stand to consider that it exists and I am not there.
But it is still there, of course, its usual social, voluble, satirical and essentially heroic self as 60 million Italians comes to terms, at short order, with lives that will for a period exist within tightly delimited perimeters. As they are quick to point out, their sacrificio of in-home quarantine is a mere crumb of what their nonni and parents endured — fighting on the front in the Great War with a cost of 600,000 dead, and then just a few short decades later enduring fascism and Nazi dominance. Italy has known more recent challenges: chilling Mafia killings, devastating far-right and far-left incidents of political terrorism, corruption on local and national levels.
But this moment is singular, one of the largest public health experiments in the history of humankind, and it is taking place in Italy.
In the next days, I will share the words of Italians and longtime Italy residents who are part of this experiment. Many of the writers past clients will know. These are artisans, guides, cooks, business owners, and live in every part of the country, from Sicily to Veneto.
The skies are deep blue in much of Italy since lock-down began, with fruit trees blooming from north to south, but the Italy they are writing from, and about, is utterly unfamiliar to them. Overnight they have set aside familiar ways and beloved customs.
Debby has been a friend for six years, and owns Rome’s Home Salon 32, a special, relaxing hair salon that is patronized by everyone in our family. She wrote me: “I have something. Perhaps you can adjust it a bit. I wrote it during an application of color and other things, it’s just a pensiero, as we say.” Why would I edit? Debby’s words:
Deborah Velez
March 10, Rome.
I live relatively close to my job. I walk to work daily. I’ve been doing this for almost three years now. However, today it felt different. I felt alone. As I strolled down the block, about a 7-minute walk, I started feeling the weight of the situation heavy on my mind. My salon appeared far away, just like the few people wearing masks, shuffling around to get where they are going. What happened? My mind went back to the day before as I recalled my sister’s voice on the phone asking me about the shutdown in Italy. How could it be possible, that I didn’t see it coming? The evening before everything was ok, and today……? It was the longest 7-minute walk ever.
I arrived at the salon, I opened the door and before doing anything thing else, I grabbed the disinfectant and started spraying away. I needed to clear up my mind and kill all of the germs. I felt bad. I went back with my thoughts and realized that the hair salon that’s under my home wasn’t open. He was always open. He didn’t open today. Neither did about other five shops. Looking around, I noticed the park was empty as well. The Bistro next door has put up a sign saying “closed for the holidays”. Holidays. Holidays ? Goodness gracious, holidays!! This situation sort of scared me a bit. What the heck are we to do ???
Fear. Fear took over. I realized that we are frightened to death. Literally!! Fear set in. Cause honestly, the virus in itself has paralyzed our way of behaving. Viruses don’t work that way.
Yesterday things in Rome appeared okayish, today it’s just not same.
I want to be funny, as I’m writing. I just realized that I’m wearing a mask. I really am. I had to cut someone’s hair. And to do so by law, I must. So, I did. It’s not easy to cut someone’s hair keeping a meter’s distance, so I slipped on this mask. I finished the cut, but I didn’t take the mask off. I did my rounds of spraying with disinfectant all the objects that had been touched by the both of us. I tossed in the bin all of the paper towels and … the mask is still on my face. I suppose that’s why everyone is wearing one today. It’s like being transparent, as though you are hiding. If you can’t be seen or found perhaps the virus will miss you.
The only other option is going on vacation, but where??
I’m thinking about how I’m going to manage tomorrow. I don’t have a single appointment. I had a few. They all canceled. That fear managed its way through once again.
The evening before last, everyone was having apericena together in crowded small bars, sitting elbow to elbow, on laps or sharing stools, asking each other as they kindly swapped cocktails “what does yours taste like?” Now, you wouldn’t even take a sip from your spouse’s cocktail, and you both share the same house. However, only the strong survive and I have a lot of will power! I’m not giving up easily to this invisible monster. I’m not sure how I’m going to win, but I’m going try as hard as hell.
March 11
Today is really today. But I need to go back to yesterday evening. I closed the shop early and I went home, by car, my hubby picked me up. It was a quick ride. Silent but quick. I took a look around, Rome completely shut down, grey and quietly getting into tones of black, not because it was evening and it was getting dark, no, it was getting glumly and sickish. It didn’t look good. But I wanted to still stay positive. I needed to organize my next day at the salon. As I thought about the salon, I asked myself : “Am I being ridiculous? Is taking care of your aspect during a silent attack important?? If I had grey hair and if the lengths were dull and ugly, would I want to feel and look okay if it were all to end? Would I want to be hospitalized with grey roots or would I prefer nice shiny hair?”
Considering that age does matter when they decide if you should have medical assistance or not, I went for the second choice. I thought: “Am I being slightly dramatic?” But who knows? I’ve never found myself in a sticky situation before. Also, I suppose neither has any one of my guests.
Finally, I arrived home, I opened the door down in the lobby, opened the elevator, opened the door of my apartment and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on the disinfectant!!! I sprayed away. I thought: “Germs are small and I’m not. I’m gonna win !!”
My husband and I took off everything and tossed everything but shoes into the washing machine. I needed to kill those nasty little invisible things that are changing my life. All of a sudden, my husband said, “l’imponderabile“.
I stared dinner. I had prepared it beforehand and it was waiting for us in the fridge. We had a nice big bowl of homemade soup and without even realizing how, I feel asleep. It was like a dream sleep. I felt like Gulliver and those little nasty things were holding me down. Guess I didn’t spray enough upon my arrival, can’t let that happen again. My husband woke me up and said “ E’ fatto, domani resti a casa”. Italy is in lockdown!
So, I’m here at home and I’m planning my day. No appointments. I’ll have a chance to look deep down inside myself during who knows how long. I’ll be looking out for those nasty like guys that changed my life in an instant, and I’m going to see not only how I react, but I’ll try to stay as positive as possible. I’m going to mentally spray away things that I don’t want and need and try to nurture my life. I believe that I’m going to reread Gulliver’s Travels, don’t remember the ending.