Miriam 49 – Dear Andre, on this Sunday of late April 2020 we really start, for the first time since 1000 red km exists, to think about “tomorrow”, intended as a restart, a recovery. Phase two is imminent, we can say that now. Today, on WhatsApp, you told me about your job that starts again, in the office. At lunch, with my husband, we set the priorities for the 4th of May: bringing the children to the grandparents. We wondered about the new family organizations, because yes, it’s really true, life will start again soon. And after having clearly understood that there won’t be a “free everyone” World Cup finale style, we begin to ask about our “Go!”, about the more or less certain date on which we will resume our race. It won’t be exactly where we stopped it, it will be necessary for each of us to clean up, to establish new rules, new criteria. It will truly be a “new” beginning, and what we will leave behind will be being locked up in our homes and the appointment with the data at 6pm. Those numbers for which we all have, at least once, cried or prayed. Those numbers that have kept us company for all this time, but which ironically revealed the exact opposite: isolation, loneliness, pain. Who knows how long it’s going to take for these numbers to permanently disappear from the news. But I hope it will take a longer time for them to disappear from our memory. Those numbers and their stories, that could have been ours.
Andrea 49 – Phase 2. Of habit. The transition seems to be this one. The slow adjusting to a situation, which lasted more than 40 days, is about to make way to the slow adjusting to another one. We learned how to do everything we did outside, inside, starting with smart working, crash course for a country that was not used to it. Now we must do the opposite: adapting the social distancing the we learned from being home, to the outside. And we need to learn how to dodge each other. Like in a special slalom. We will dodge each other in the offices, where we will have to be so far apart that we will look closer in a videocall. We will dodge each other in the shops, where we will be so alone that we will have more human contact by shopping online, with those delivering the groceries. It’s phase 2, the one of the coexistence in a slalom. We will live with others without looking at them in the eyes, we will live with the virus, trying to dodge it like Tomba used to do 30 years ago in the special slalom. We will live with the elderly again, having lunch at their homes that will be filled again with the young voices of children and grandchildren. But we won’t be able to sit close, we will dodge each other even at the table. To kiss mum, we will wait for phase 3. For now, we stay in phase 2. The one of the stories no longer travelling in parallel, but that dodge each other. The one of the Regions that will make their own way. We are still Italy, but we will become a bit the land of municipalities, like in the Middle Ages. Whoever has the highest walls, will raise the drawbridge. The stranger shall not pass. The Italian shall not pass. South and North, different destinies. The two extremes of the 1000 red km will travel on different tracks. We go back to being you and us. Different contagion curves, different risks, different re-openings. We are in phase 2, but we are not Alberto Tomba, and the poles are not still. Phase 1 was easier.