Sunday, May 3, 2020

Day 48 - SkyLines from the French Lock-down: Signs of Life

Bonjour a tous! (Hello everyone!)  The light at the end of our lock-down tunnel is getting brighter by the day. If you are still in the dark part of the tunnel, I hope our story goes well, so that you can also anticipate an end to the isolation. Being alone for too long is hard on morale. We are with you in thought and are sending you wishes for a return to a slightly more normal life. We all know it's not going to be like it was before but maybe we can see our friends again - standing apart at a safe distance, bien sur!
The View from Céret toward Spain.
This is part of why our department
 is less stricken, we have less density of
 population in most areas than the north.


Day 48 - It's practically hot today as I write this from the protective shade of the kitchen! Today the winter clothes were packed away with my ski gear. I'm just hoping it doesn't get too hot during the next 8 days because I only have jeans, long sleeved shirts, and two t-shirts here. My summer clothes are at my house. I'm sure it will be okay - after all - there are just 8 days left of our confinement!

Y - my charming French partner, and I went out early to hunt, er, I mean shop for carrots so I
Carrot, Cumin, and Raisin salad
could prepare "La Salade aux Carottes Râpées aux cumin." It's one of our favorites during the warm months. It's a grated carrot salad with cumin. All it takes is two carrots, a handful of raisins (any kind, but I do love the golden variety), a teaspoon of cumin seeds and a few pinches of cumin powder, 1 teaspoon of lemon juice, 2 teaspoons of olive oil, a bit of ground pepper and a pinch of salt. If it sits for an hour before you serve it, it's even nicer but we often don't wait. It's light, has a lemony sweet feel with a bit of spicy warmth from the cumin. If I leave the making of the salad to Y, I know there will be a liberal sprinkling of curry powder as well.


We filled in our attestation papers and walked to the store to find carrots. There were a lot of people in the street today and it was a bit difficult to keep the two meter distance from everyone. I ended up climbing the church steps to avoid a particularly large group. They made me a little bit worried. Nobody was wearing a mask. I hope it was a family because they were walking very close together. We saw no gendarmes or police anywhere but then again, it was nearly noon. My parents lived in Paris and loved France as much as I do. When I was young, my dad often remarked that, "If you are
Just like every Sunday morning
a criminal in France, the best time to go to work would be at noon on a Sunday." I've lived here now for over 16 years and I know he's right. Sunday is the day when not much happens and most people take a break. When I first arrived, the only thing open besides the church doors was the newsagent who sold bread as well because the bakery was closed. Times have changed but not much. Normally most stores are closed because the fines they would have to pay for working on a Sunday outweigh the profits. 


But with the confinement still in force, we knew the grocery store and the bakeries would be open even on a Sunday and so it was. We bought our carrots and some canned goods as well just so we wouldn't have to rush out again tomorrow. In the store, everyone was doing the best they could to keep a social distance. At least that was a good sign.

Then we took a walk around the village. The feeling that the end of this horrid experience was everywhere. People were sitting on front steps, or leaning against walls and enjoying the sunshine. I walked in the shade as it was too hot. This feels more like May in the south of France.  smiled and called hello. Those we are friends with said, "Just eight days to go!" Some asked if we thought that wind-surfing would be allowed as it was a solitary sport and technically one would be on the water and not the beach. That, we couldn't answer. Who
The flower baskets are blooming again
knows? I do know it will be tough to do without having a camp on the sand for all our gear. I'm a beginner. I can't last long on the water and need frequent rests. I think we'll just have to wait and see what happens with the numbers. At the moment - it's good. Yesterday the news that the deaths were 166 continues to put us on track for the end of the lock-down. It seems ironic to hear about death and think, "Oh, that's good news." But then I remember the days when we would read that over a thousand had died. It's terrible to think that there is any number that is acceptable, isn't it?


We walked home and suddenly the streets were all empty once more and we were alone. It was the lunch hour. I noticed that the flowering baskets that haven't been tended since the winter have begun to bloom again. So that's another good thing about all that rain we had in April. It looks quite cheerful. After scrubbing our hands with vigor, we set to work on making the salad.  The quiche went into the oven to reheat and we set the table. The street was quiet. A typical Sunday.
The postman no longer rings twice -
he calls to say he's delivered the package
It's deceptive. There is little that feels typical about the way life is unfolding. The new normal is subdued and sad. I remember yesterday when I looked out and saw the postman on his motorbike. He used to whistle and toot the horn when there was a package. Yesterday he was wrapped in protective clothing with a clear visor to complete the image. I know it's to protect us more than him. And that is the mantra of our new normal. Instead of ringing the bell to alert our neighbors that they had a package, he lifted his visor and called them on the phone to say it was by the door. Y and I talked about the fact that we were going to need masks in public for a long time. We lamented the reason the beaches would not be opening while we ate lunch. We discussed the rumors that the time at our beach was going to have schedules with set rendezvous so people would not over-pack the shore. We'd all seen the photos of Florida and Southern California. People aren't always good at doing what is necessary, sadly. 


Finally, I sat down here while Y does the dishes so I can write to you and share the news of the day. It's not stunning but there are no tragedies to report, happily. And we see signs all around us that the de-confinement has already begun in little ways.

Last night after dinner, Y and I walked down to the river to drop our recycles in the bid. On the way back he took my hand. I looked at him severely and protested, "Mon amour, nous sommes trop proches!" (My love, we are too close.) He pulled me closer and said, "Roh-been, nous sommes dans nos droits! Et regarde!" (We are within our rights, and look!) The idea of families being
The reason for our 100 km travel limit...
Is it really because the Prime Minister's
mother-in-law lives 103 km away from him?
allowed to be close has been hotly debated. It only makes sense that if we live together we can walk together, but I have been trying to show respect for the rules. Y pointed to a group ahead of us composed of four gendarmes and a family. A child and a dog were playing at the edge of the water. The adults were talking and it was clearly a pleasant discussion. Y waved to them and they waved back. The gendarmes smiled. 


Y was right. They knew he and I are a family and that we were within our rights to hold hands. It felt like life had returned. We walked on by and on up the rue de la république. I thought about how lucky we are to live in an area that has been touched so lightly in the face of this terror. We're not in the clear yet. The second wave may undo all that's been done. But, we have hope and a date with destiny that is fast approaching. It will be a day to celebrate when we can leave the attestations at home.

So, we will all hold our breath a little bit during the next week and keep our eyes on the numbers. Our hope is that you are safe and things will get better in time. There is an end in sight - and if all
We're still staying home for the moment
or carrying the famous attestation
whenever we go for a walk or to shop.
But thankfully, it's a temporary situation.
goes well, then we will emerge from this confinement and self-isolation TOGETHER!

A demain, nos amis!

Link to Day 49

2 comments:

  1. I know that you and Y are counting the days until you can resume your normal life. It was such a good life, after all. <3

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    1. You know we are. But we also know that it won't be quite the same as before. Not for a long time and perhaps never. But you know I have hope that we will find the way to live with this threat and one day beat it! Thx for your kind words, Deb!

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