June 4, 2021 Covid
It feels sudden, this. And that doesn’t mean it is: After all, it’s been a good 15 months of pandemic, one wave of closings following another, countless meals out of paper containers. But it still feels sudden that the streets are full again, the city bursting at the seams with life, tables everywhere, people in groups. “A little like waking from a coma”, I describe it, unhelpfully, but there’s no better analogy I can come up with at the sight of the shear mass of people.
“The pandemic is over”, a friend announces via text the next day. I’m at work drinking coffee, sitting in that rare patch of afternoon sunlight, and although I know this statement isn’t true, it certainly feels like he is right. We may not be vaccinated, large parts of the world are still battling with the virus, but at this instance, with the numbers way down, it feels like we’ve come out on the other side.
Rocío and I celebrate the opening with a meal at a restaurant, eating a soup out of an honest-to-god plate. I send a video of my finger tapping against the porcelain to another friend, and she writes back: “Ah, the sweet sound of civilization.”