Day 3-4
Day 3-4 of the Rome Lockdown.
Although the lockdown began on Tuesday, until yesterday cafes, bars and restaurants were still open with tables and chairs ready for custom outside until a 6pm curfew. The shops too continued to trade. It helped signal that the country continued to function. That all stopped yesterday. After two days the government has changed the rules and only pharmacies, grocery stores and newsagents can remain open. Of course most bars sell cigarettes and scratch cards, and so some remain open for this important victualing purpose but their expresso machines are turned off.
Nevertheless much of Roman life is doing its best to continue as normal: the scaffolders scaffold, the roofers roof, and the cobblers cobble ... the streets that is.
There was a meeting of heads of offices in the Vatican yesterday to decide how we are to continue. Those offices housed over at San Callisto in Trastevere have shut and their staff are working from home. There was speculation that we might follow suit. At least three of my colleagues are the only ones from their communities who leave their buildings each morning and not everyone in their communities is happy about the arrangement. But the meeting determined that it was impossible for our work to be done from home and so we continue as before.
In my lunch hour I went to do some shopping. I had wrongly assumed that the 6pm curfew applied also to supermarkets and as we only finish work at 6:30pm I thought that lunch would be my only opportunity to get some supplies in. I went first to the Vatican supermarket and found a queue stretching round the block. Giving up on that I went up towards a Todis supermarket beyond the entrance to the museums. Again there was a queue. Because the queuers maintain the 1 metre safety distance the queues are difficult to gauge, but I decided to give up and head back along the side of the Vatican where, in more normal times, the longest queues would be, those to get into the Vatican Museums now shut.
I met a friend of my flatmate, Enda, who he told me that he was busy panic-buying everything he could lay his hands on in the Vatican supermarket. I hurried round and explaining to the guard on the door was allowed to go in. Everyone entering was issued with a pair of plastic gloves which made your hands sweat within minutes. At the checkout our haul which we would have to carry home was dwarfed by the purchases of those who had come with cars. The man ahead of us had a considerable trolly full (pictured) and having paid he turned to the checkout assistant and said, "I'll be back again later!"
Yesterday, the Cardinal Vicar of Rome, De Donatis announced that all the churches of Rome would be closed. Up until now all public masses have been cancelled but the churches have remained open for prayer. Walking home after work a single church bell rang out. I decided to put my head round the door and was surprised to find the six people scattered about the church and then the sacristy bell rang and two priests came out to begin Mass. Perhaps they had decided to have one last Mass before closure.
In all sorts of ways one sees the desire, almost the need, for people to continue on as normal. This morning I went for my run and found a class of about ten women with their exercise mats laid down on the Tiber bank where an instructor was leading them through an aerobic workout.
The priest who was celebrating last night's Mass is a good man. He stands outside his church each morning (from which they distribute free breakfasts) surrounded by homeless people listening to their stories and their requests for help. We normally exchange a greeting if he sees me when I pass. He is the best kind of priest, the kind who wants to be there for people in a crisis and who wants to do whatever he can to help. He must have felt torn as many of us do: How could he not celebrate Mass, or how could he celebrate Mass behind closed doors?
Although the lockdown began on Tuesday, until yesterday cafes, bars and restaurants were still open with tables and chairs ready for custom outside until a 6pm curfew. The shops too continued to trade. It helped signal that the country continued to function. That all stopped yesterday. After two days the government has changed the rules and only pharmacies, grocery stores and newsagents can remain open. Of course most bars sell cigarettes and scratch cards, and so some remain open for this important victualing purpose but their expresso machines are turned off.
Nevertheless much of Roman life is doing its best to continue as normal: the scaffolders scaffold, the roofers roof, and the cobblers cobble ... the streets that is.
There was a meeting of heads of offices in the Vatican yesterday to decide how we are to continue. Those offices housed over at San Callisto in Trastevere have shut and their staff are working from home. There was speculation that we might follow suit. At least three of my colleagues are the only ones from their communities who leave their buildings each morning and not everyone in their communities is happy about the arrangement. But the meeting determined that it was impossible for our work to be done from home and so we continue as before.
In my lunch hour I went to do some shopping. I had wrongly assumed that the 6pm curfew applied also to supermarkets and as we only finish work at 6:30pm I thought that lunch would be my only opportunity to get some supplies in. I went first to the Vatican supermarket and found a queue stretching round the block. Giving up on that I went up towards a Todis supermarket beyond the entrance to the museums. Again there was a queue. Because the queuers maintain the 1 metre safety distance the queues are difficult to gauge, but I decided to give up and head back along the side of the Vatican where, in more normal times, the longest queues would be, those to get into the Vatican Museums now shut.
I met a friend of my flatmate, Enda, who he told me that he was busy panic-buying everything he could lay his hands on in the Vatican supermarket. I hurried round and explaining to the guard on the door was allowed to go in. Everyone entering was issued with a pair of plastic gloves which made your hands sweat within minutes. At the checkout our haul which we would have to carry home was dwarfed by the purchases of those who had come with cars. The man ahead of us had a considerable trolly full (pictured) and having paid he turned to the checkout assistant and said, "I'll be back again later!"
Yesterday, the Cardinal Vicar of Rome, De Donatis announced that all the churches of Rome would be closed. Up until now all public masses have been cancelled but the churches have remained open for prayer. Walking home after work a single church bell rang out. I decided to put my head round the door and was surprised to find the six people scattered about the church and then the sacristy bell rang and two priests came out to begin Mass. Perhaps they had decided to have one last Mass before closure.
In all sorts of ways one sees the desire, almost the need, for people to continue on as normal. This morning I went for my run and found a class of about ten women with their exercise mats laid down on the Tiber bank where an instructor was leading them through an aerobic workout.
The priest who was celebrating last night's Mass is a good man. He stands outside his church each morning (from which they distribute free breakfasts) surrounded by homeless people listening to their stories and their requests for help. We normally exchange a greeting if he sees me when I pass. He is the best kind of priest, the kind who wants to be there for people in a crisis and who wants to do whatever he can to help. He must have felt torn as many of us do: How could he not celebrate Mass, or how could he celebrate Mass behind closed doors?
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