making that characteristic noise, like a bunker beyond the grave. From then on, the theatre would be left empty, physical and symbolically, and in silence: the stalls and the stage are now senseless meaningless spaces.
And the same has happened to the world: the curtain has fallen during an intermission with no return, and the world was left with no audience. In a cosmic second, the stage of the world became fragile and meaningless and, in my mind, I thought I heard the echo, non-existent really, of a voice which invited us to go to the foyer during an intermission which had no near end.
Today I’m in Berlin, starting all over and with many open questions, dwelling in 8 square metres and watching the world through a big window which, ironically, looks over a theatre: a theatre that right now is in pause mode, the same way the world is, and, somehow, same as my world …
A science-fiction movie
Eva Serrano Clavero
Madrid, Spain
Lawyer
When I saw on television the images of the city of Wuhan, the origin of the COVID-19 outbreak, I was bewildered with the measures taken for the protection of the health workers. It looked like a science fiction movie. The virus didn’t understand about borders and, without even realising, in just a few days it was us who were confined in Spain and in other countries around the world.
In these days of isolation, I’ve had the opportunity to reconnect with myself and with my loved ones, and to value many things I was taking for granted. With a Royal Decree-Law from the Spanish Government, fresh from the printers, they’ve limited a fundamental right: freedom of movement. Without the freedom to meet my family and friends, the ones who are far away; without the freedom to go out in the country, to sunbathe or to breath fresh air, I reflect about how I will continue to work to put in order my own priorities. I think about how I will manage to become the best version of myself.
The government lies to us while the prices rise
Cristina Artsan
Cojutepeque, Cuscatlán, El Salvador
For 41 days now, my 11-year-old son is getting his virtual lessons at home. They are too long so he says he would prefer to go to school. Besides, he misses being with his friends.
This is my second quarantine. I have an 11-week-old baby who suffers an allergic rhinitis which he has inherited from me, and today I had to take him urgently to the paediatrician for the hexavalent vaccine against rhinitis, I couldn’t go earlier due to the pandemic. However, there’s such a scarcity of vaccines that I had to order privately the ones for rotavirus and pneumococcus, spending 85% of my salary on vaccines, medicines and private consultations (as I don’t want to expose my baby to the virus taking him to a public hospital), although the money can be reinstated. Luckily, I get my full salary during my 112 days maternity leave. I live with my parents, whose business in the municipal market had to close a month ago, so they depend on my salary and some savings. The prices of the basic shopping basket are rising and there’s a shortage of face masks and alcoholic gel.
And furthermore, there is a dispute between the government and the members of congress about the extensions of the quarantine. Only one member of the family can go out to do the shopping, but it gets crowded as many people still don’t believe in the danger of COVID-19.
The government gave an aid of 300 dollars to the majority of people who don’t have a job, and the workers like me who contribute with AFP have asked they should give us back at least 30% of the savings from our pensions. Congressmen have been postponing this matter, but yesterday the minister of Finance and Inland Revenue spoke to explain that our savings didn’t exist anymore because the previous governments had spent them, so the amounts they gave us to date was fictitious.
Anticipated abandonment
Samael Alba Pérez
Guanajuato, México
March 10th 2020
7:50 a. m.
The razor was sliding smoothly on my cheek, I was just about to finish the outline of my beard and then I would go to work, but the day had very different plans for me. While I was walking in the street, the news was travelling fast. People were still making plans, without waiting for what was to come.
When I walked into the small office, the manager was on my seat looking worried. I felt a chill down my spine. After an apology and a distant greeting, I left through the same door I had walked in just ten minutes ago. The government was ordering the closure of operation and, because of my position at work, I wasn’t essential, so they had to give me “holidays” without pay.
In the evening I was looking at the ceiling, thinking of a way to get money. A call on the mobile interrupted my plans. «I’ve been thinking for a while, I don’t feel good, you know? about yesterday’s fight, I don’t think we can make it work. I’m sorry, please take care of yourself». These were the last words from the one who wouldn’t continue to be my girlfriend.
April 27th 2020
12:00 p. m.
I’ve been learning a lot in silence and solitude. We repeat again and again «when this is over», as if we were in prison. We live from dreams and we go to bed with memories: feeling the grass, the wind, dancing until dawn, walking in the city. Me? I learned to let-go of the things that are not possible any longer, and to have patience, to talk to myself and to listen to what I need but don’t want, what is really needed.
I abandoned myself, in the silence.
Thoughts about the pandemic
Rodrigo Alonso Otero
Madrid, Spain
Journalist
70 days in lockdown can go a long way. At least, to appreciate twice more the trips on the train, the evenings in the bookshops, the laughs with friends under April’s sun, and that lost spring which we will never get back. Also, to miss a routine which, even though before we thought it was a bit dull at times, has turned out that it was a real privilege. Something which, with the passing of months, seems more and more distant in our memory.
We have got used to be alone and isolated. To wear face masks. To spend hours and hours hooked on apps and video calls so we don’t lose contact with those that used to be our “close circle”. About what is to come after, there’s a lot being said and written, more than enough, maybe. For now, the only thing we know, besides if we are going to be more or less people, is that we are going to live worse. At the same time, we are guessing that many companies, many businesses, specially small and medium sized, will disappear. And that, the same as in the 2008 crisis, finding a job is going to be a high-risk sport not just for one but for more than a hundred thousand.
We’ve also had the chance to see, once more, the incompetence of our governments. Specially those who spend too much time quoting Gramsci or Friedman to cause sensationalism. Maybe in four-years-time it might be harder than expected to reach the sky. It might happen that protesting for the sake of protesting,
