Dawn

Dawn

Wednesday, April 15, 2020

Thoughts from Pontevedra, Galicia, Spain: 15.4.20

Spanish life is not always likeable but it is compellingly loveable.   
- Christopher Howse: A Pilgrim in Spain*
The C Word

Spain:
  • New lows in the numbers are still being reported, justifying this week's partial easing of the draconian lockdown.
  • A Spanish lawyer has claimed that said lockdown is illegal. Particularly, it seems the ban - unique to Spain? - on us leaving home for even a modicum of exercise/fresh air.
  • The lockdown will lead to a weight increase of 3-5 kilos per person, reports The Olive Press here, with some interesting stats.
  • Compulsory 'social distancing' will, it's reported, remain in place on our beaches even after the lockdown has ended. Given that the Spanish like to sit almost on top each other - even on an empty beach - the question arises of whether the beaches will be able to accommodate the volume of beach-comers. If not, what happens then?
Germany: Someone poses the  question on all our lips: What accounts for Germany’s extraordinarily low death numbers? And then adds: One possibility is that Germany classifies deaths differently. . . . Another is that those infected are receiving substantially better treatment than their counterparts in France, Italy, and Spain. Maybe a disparity in the quality of treatment partially explains the disparity in deaths. And finally asks: Is it also possible that Italy, Spain, and France have been afflicted by a more deadly version? In neighboring Austria the per capita death number is almost the same as Germany’s. And in Poland it is considerably lower, if its reporting is reliable.

Sweden: The herd immunity strategy . . . The jury is still out, according to this excellent article. The truth - says the author - is that the Swedish epidemic is far from the out-of-control disaster its critics would like to believe. It will be a while yet before we know if Sweden's strategy avoids the second pandemic that the lockdowns risk resulting in when they end.

Life in the Time of Something Like Cholera
  • María's Day 31.
  • For a couple of reasons. the frontage of my house allows for the parking of 3 cars, 4 if you include the fact that most people in my street park in front of the garage gates of their neighbours. This compares with an average of 1(2). But, for several houses in the street, there's been no cars outside for weeks now. And no lights on at night. One wonders if the owners fled to 2nd homes - or even abroad - before the lockdown took effect. Maybe some of them were unfortunate enough to take a trip to Valencia or Madrid. Even so, like me, they could return to their principal residence, if they wanted to.
  • There's a nice article below on what goes on in my elder daughter's Madrid barrio - Malasaña.
The EU
  • Words of wisdom(?) from The Corner:- History suggests that crises foster creativity and innovation in European policymaking, and common bonds could be an example of this. But judging by the tone of discussions and the reported acrimony in recent meetings, we don’t see this as imminent. We believe the sense of division and fragility within the euro area will remain for some time. Our conviction that the ECB will do what’s needed to stabilise the system for now means that we see some value in peripheral sovereign spreads at current levels. However, and in order to increase our conviction in this belief, we need to see more from euro area officials. We’re not there yet. More here, if you want it,
The USA 
  • Click here for an interview with Noam Chomsky. No fan of Fart, of course. Some tasters, none of them terribly novel or surprising:-
o If Trump is re-elected, it’s a indescribable disaster. It means that the policies of the past 4 years, which have been extremely destructive to the American population, to the world, will be continued and probably accelerated. What this is going to mean for health is bad enough. I just mentioned the Lancet figures. It will get worse. What this means for the environment or the threat of nuclear war, which no one is talking about but is extremely serious, is indescribable.
o We have a freak show in Washington, a totally dysfunctional government, which is causing enormous problems.
o Trump is desperately seeking some scapegoat that he can blame for his astonishing failures and incompetence. The most recent one is the WHO, the China bashing. Somebody  else is responsible.
The Way of the World
  • The 2nd article below is another look at our post-virus future-
Spanish
  • Words of the Day:- 
  1. Aparcar: To park
  2. Un parking: A carpark
English 
  • Does the first word of this of phrase - social distancing - achieve any real purpose?
Finally . . .
  • As the old (Catholic?) joke about an incident in a confessional runs:-
Penitent: Father, forgive me for I have made love to 3 married women in the last 24 hours.
Priest: My son, are you truly repentant?
Penitent: Repentant? I'm not even a Catholic but someone's got to know!

By the same token, I'd like the world to know that, unlike the rest of the 45 million people here in Spain, I'm not only not gaining weight but have shed a kilo in the last 4 weeks. Quite an achievement when hosting a sister who likes nothing better than to cook 3-course meals. And cakes.

THE ARTICLES

1. How my fiesta-loving neighbours became my world in Spain's coronavirus lockdown: Deirdre Carney, an American writer, photographer and English teacher.

The state of alarm began all over Spain, and like everyone else, I went from a fairly normal life – perhaps with a bit less touching and a bit more hand washing – to locked down in the center of Madrid.  And, also like many, I was completely alone.

The first couple of days were a whirlwind – coming to terms with the new circumstances, figuring out what my days would be like, if I could keep my teaching job (no, apparently), how much wine and toilet paper did I actually need to stock up on? (Unlike back in my own country, the United States, everyone was very civilized about panic buying toilet paper here, I found.)

By the time the first night of clapping happened, the emotions of the past few days overwhelmed me as Madrid roared beyond my small street with thunderous applause. Thinking about what was coming for the people of this adopted city I love so much, for the hospital workers and first responders and everyone who would be affected, I clapped my hands with my neighbours and like many I’m sure, I cried.

The nightly ritual of going to my window and applauding the doctors and nurses and everyone else who were doing their greatest work of stocking the shelves, cleaning the streets, making food deliveries, became a tonic for me as well.

I did not know my neighbours before this, and though I do know a few of the ex-pats living around here, more than likely, we would not see each other. At the end of the applause, someone on the street around the corner always yells HASTA LA VICTORIA! And everyone else all up and down the street yells back, SIEMPRE!

Slowly, we all got to know each other. The nice lady right across from me was the first to smile at me and say goodnight when she went back in. I always waved at her small white dog as well. His name is Coco. She made me a hand sewn mask last week.

Then, the neighbour up a bit higher, also on his own, included me in his greetings as well. His name is Javi. Then  I met Leti, above me, another younger woman on her own, and she has a pretty cat named Maui who she holds up and out just enough for me to wave at too.

Day by day I grew more comfortable smiling and saying hello to everyone. As the weeks started to plod by, we began sincerely asking each other how we are doing – it is not the casual “how are you?” of normal life, of neighbours passing in the street – it is a serious and meaningful “how are you?”  We actually want to know if the person is alright.

The circle expanded. There are two guys down the road, who I knew from seeing them walk their three dogs. They also have two cats, Baloo and Dalí.

A couple at the end of the road who have a small baby come out every night too, rocking their baby to the music. There is a very old lady who I can tell makes a special effort to make eye contact and greet us each individually and say a few words.

An American opera singer I met once or twice, started walking his white poodle, Tootsie, up the street every evening as the clapping died down, like clockwork. I wait at my window for them to come by so I can have a chat with him in English.

Lastly, an Irish guy I had known just in passing before, will stop at the window and have a quick word on his way to the store or back. These are the only humans I have face to face contact and conversation with now.

On Easter Sunday it was a beautiful sunny day. I decided to take out the recycling, stretch my legs a bit and go buy something interesting and unvirtuous to make for dinner.

I realized my neighbours all up and down our street were busy stringing balloons and bunting from their balconies and windows. They were throwing strings weighted with household objects at each other from across the street, and then would pull up the decorations that way.

The whole street was quite lively in fact, and several homeless people even milled around drinking their beers in the sunshine. This must be a Spanish Easter tradition I don’t know about, I thought to myself.

When I got back, even more people were finding objects to sling across the narrow street on strings. Someone strung up brightly colored plastic cups, another had some paper lanterns, and others just a ridiculous amount of balloons.

I wondered how they had all been so prepared for this. Was it a tradition, and so they had all that stuff ready? As I smiled up at them from below, Javi yelled down to see if I had anything to add, perhaps some balloons as well? Unfortunately, I did not. But I went up to my window anyway and had a cocktail and watched the action. It got very silly.

As far up the street as you could see, and partially up the next, everyone was on their balconies or leaning out windows watching and participating. It reminded me a bit of the beginning of the Muppet Show, with each individual Muppet in their own arch. There was music, but the most fun was stringing up as much as possible.

Each time someone wound up to throw something across, everyone was watching, making the uhhhhhhhh kind of sound of anticipation and if the person missed, awwwwwwww, and laughter. Try again. Sometimes this took quite a few goes which made everyone laugh all the more. When success was upon them, the whole street erupted into applause – one man took several very formal sweeping bows for his efforts. Even Dalí the orange cat, and Coco the little dog watched the action with intense interest from their respective balconies.

I finally had the chance to ask if all this was indeed an Easter tradition in Spain. Well, that made them all die laughing. No, they yelled gleefully, we just did this for no reason!

Leti explained it to me.  Someone earlier in the day had put a string of balloons up, way up the street, and that inspired someone else, and it just caught on. It was totally random and spontaneous. This of course made it all the more wonderful.

What I want to know, Javi wondered out loud to everyone, is why on earth so many people had this many balloons in their house. Just in case! The Madrileños are always ready for a party.

We had an especially festive applause at 8 pm, with some singing and someone I couldn’t see playing the guitar. As the light faded, people decided to whip out any fairy lights they had on hand. One by one the balconies started to light up with colors and twinkles. I had Christmas lights!

My flatmate, who is back in the UK with her parents, had a huge pile of them packed away in storage in a box marked "Christmas". I went to get them, and we strung them across the street, and from balcony to balcony.

People walking their dogs or delivering food would come around the corner and look up in surprise and yells of “que bonito!” echoed around. A few of the homeless guys hung out, enjoying how pretty the street was.

Someone finally asked me my name. I have an exceedingly difficult name to pronounce in Spanish, Deirdre. I can usually get a serviceable “Dee-dra”. But Spanish people often enjoy trying to say it, and so when I told my neighbours that night, they all gave it a shot. A dozen or so people were practicing saying it, yelling it back to me, and wanting to know if they were getting close. Another fun game!

People stayed in their windows until around 10pm. It had been quite a long party, considering. I am still so amazed at the Spanish spirit, and their ability to find a way to have fun, laugh, decorate something, and socialize.

I will refrain from over-explaining the obvious about how these difficult and even dangerous times can bring out and emphasize the small, wonderful moments of life. Study after study show that for humans to feel complete, to be mentally healthy, they need to have a strong community. Starting from strong bonds to partners, family and friends, to the wider world, we know that fulfillment comes from other people, not just from achievements and certainly not from buying more and more things.

The Spanish life expectancy is one of the highest in the world, and I really think a big part of it is this warmth, the ability to have fun doing silly things, the ease with which they break into singing together. We know their fiestas and their festivals are among the most amazing in the world, and that their social lives are very full and important to them. Community is a way of life. It’s one of the biggest reasons I moved here.

The knowledge that so many people are suffering right now across the planet, each in their own ways, each at different levels, but no less important than any other, adds to the daily struggle. I have a lovely flat, plenty of food, lots of socializing online, and so far, my nearest and dearest are fine.

I know I am one of the lucky ones. But when my world has shrunk down to so many hours by myself, when the longing for a human hug or a snuggle with a purry cat has become physical, almost tangible, this Spanish spirit of community is a balm on that ache.

And these neighbours, these people I have never touched, never kissed hello, never had a real conversation with, suddenly mean all the world to me.

2. What will the world look like after Covid-19?: Daniel Finkelstein, The Times

An American historian’s book on the way plagues have shaped history has never been more relevant than it is today

In the mid 1950s, the American historian William McNeill was working on his classic The Rise of the West when he stumbled across a fact that stopped him in his tracks.

And it’s one that can help us understand the scale of what we are living through and the role it might play in the years ahead.

McNeill was studying the Spanish conquest of Mexico in the 16th century and puzzling over the ability of Hernan Cortez, starting with fewer than 600 men, to conquer the Aztec Empire with its millions of inhabitants. And why, come to think of it, did the Aztec religions simply disappear, usurped by Christianity? As he pondered these questions he happened upon this: on the night the Aztecs drove Cortez out of Mexico City, an epidemic of smallpox was raging in the city.

This fact helped McNeill answer two key questions. Why did the Aztecs not pursue the Spaniards after driving them out of the city, instead allowing them to regroup and renew their attack in greater numbers? And why did many Aztecs conclude that the invaders enjoyed divine support and that Christianity had shown its superiority?

Indeed, the implications were far greater and led McNeill to write arguably the best analysis of how disease changes history, Peoples and Plagues.

Human beings, he wrote, establish supremacy by working out how to defeat and control the animals that we can see. But the organisms we cannot see — viruses, bacteria, parasites — have proven a far more redoubtable enemy. Because we did not understand these organisms for so long, most of our history comprises nothing but the combat between human beings, the one visible animal still a danger to us all.

This, however, ignores the huge role that disease has played in shaping civilisation. As humans move into new territory, they encounter microparasites against which they have yet to develop resistance. These can kill large numbers until the population and the disease accommodate each other.

McNeill traced the way civilisations eventually become single disease “pools”, where the population has developed a degree of immunity to local diseases. But when these pools connect up, as happened along trade routes that linked Asia and the West in the 14th century, the consequences can be terrible. It is possible that the Black Death killed more than half of Europe’s inhabitants.

From these observations two points stand out for us today. The first is that we are right to see our resistance to Covid-19 as a form of war. There has been much disagreement about this, with some regarding use of martial terms as silly, and the Blitz Spirit as tiresome. Yet McNeill’s history suggests that macroparasites (human invaders) and microparasites (diseases) often act together, are simply visible and invisible forms of attack and often end in the same way, by reaching some sort of accommodation with the host population.

The second observation is that the impact of disease has been devastating for most civilisations that suffer it. From the falling of empires, Greek and Roman, to the strengthening of autocracies and the pharaohs, and the spread of rumours and superstition, the history of disease is deep and dolorous.

Of course we now have weapons with which to fight the unseen warriors. We can prevent the huge loss of life our ancestors experienced. Our campaign of scientific resistance is extraordinary. I am not an alarmist and I try not to be a pessimist. Yet history does make me a little less of an optimist.

There is a view — we could call it the Kumbaya view — that this might be a moment of revelation and unification. Together we have been given an insight into much that is wrong with our world and a renewed sense of unity, trust and determination that will allow us to address these ills. When this is over we will create a better world, and we may even become better people.

I hope this is right. I am always in favour of opening our eyes and being compassionate towards one another. But this is hope rather than expectation. As with all disease disasters, this one will leave the civilisation it has attacked weaker and poorer. The need for justice may have arisen, but the means to achieve it will have been diminished.

As with all similar setbacks, economic and social, there will be a political battle over resources which usually manifests itself in sharper antagonisms and less trust. Just at the moment when there will be political pressure to spend money insuring ourselves against future pandemics and other shocks, there will be much less money to do it with. And people will start to wonder if someone else might have hidden the money, or wasted it or used it on themselves.

This is not really a point about Britain, though Britain will not be immune to it. And I suspect that the differences that have split the country over this past decade may deepen. It may prove that the parts of the country hardest hit by the disease (cities generally) are not the parts hit hardest economically (rural and post-industrial areas already in decline) and this will reinforce a divide.

But I’m more concerned about the world we will live in. If we expect the financial trouble to be as deep as that 1930s, is it unreasonable to reflect on what happened politically in the 1930s? How dictatorships rose and sought to recoup local economic losses by invading neighbours? How whole populations supported dictatorships and scapegoated minorities?

As states battle coronavirus, governments have taken on unprecedented powers. And they have done it with the support of people who want protection. But how easy, once the initial danger has passed, will it be to get them to relinquish those powers? Especially if they can point to the danger of further infections and more deaths without them.

And the spirit of solidarity can easily curdle into one were we continue to spy on our neighbours and see others primarily as disease vectors.

An optimistic view is that the end of the pandemic will be hailed as the triumph of scientists and the final proof of the victory of experts. But there will be enough that the experts got wrong and enough the scientists couldn’t stop to feed a new wave of populism and fear of the foreign.

This is not intended as a counsel of despair. Liberty and democracy under the law, scientific knowledge and expertise, cordiality and social justice, can win the struggle to come. But history suggests that struggle it will be.



 *A terrible book, by the way. Don't be tempted to buy it, unless you're a very religious Protestant.

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