Lockdown diary; 07 of April of 2020:
7:00 a.m. With the time change, in these moments of the morning, the sunlight has not yet begun to illuminate my neighborhood. Everything is darker than usual. Although it's been a week, I still haven't gotten used to it and today I woke up earlier than expected.. Last night I had a bad dream.
8:00 a.m. Some lonely cars are already driving through the streets. Otherwise, at this time, the world remains completely still. one more day, It has dawned cloudy and I tell myself that, although it doesn't seem like it, we continue in spring. The first neighbors take their dogs outside for a walk. Among them, stands out a woman who carries hers in her arms to help him cross the lot in front of my house. When you reach the other sidewalk, leaves the dog on the ground and the animal remains motionless. when he gets up, I discover that the poor creature can barely walk. The buses pass, but today, like yesterday, They don't pick anyone up either.. The sun appears for a moment, very shy, fire red, over the horizon, right between the line that separates the thick cloud cover and the city skyline.
9:00 a.m. It is the time of greatest influx of dogs (with their owners). I discover that the bakery in front of my building has already opened its doors. A guy I don't recognize approaches the establishment and, after a while, He comes out with a bag followed by the owner of the business who chats animatedly with him. almost at the same time, three men stop under my window and also start talking. No one respects the proper distance between them. The garbage truck passes. After, the glass truck passes. Garbage collectors remove the last remains from the sidewalk with a broom and dustpan, like before. A quarter of an hour later, the owner of the bakery, lack of new clients to entertain, He goes out into the street and smokes a cigarette.. from there, on the sidewalk, between puff and puff, It seems as if he contemplates the world and I wonder, curious, what will you see. A train announces, in the distance, your arrival.
10:00 a.m. Things are starting to get lively. In one of the buildings across the street, a woman hangs clothes on the balcony of her apartment. Then, who seems to be her partner comes out and helps her on the mission. When finishing, the two return to the house. On another of the balconies, A retiree also leaves his house to do some exercise.. I have calculated it on other days and it will be a full hour, walking from one end of the balcony to the other. How big event, around ten thirty, starts to spark. In the same building opposite, a woman looks out of a window to check the weather. Another floor down, another woman in a bathrobe comes out and leans on the railing and, like the baker, observes the world for a few seconds before taking cover again. Every so much, a bus runs down the main street (without picking up anyone). a small group of people, four or five, They meet later at the door of the bakery and, suddenly, in the emptiness of everything, they look like a crowd. A van brings some packages to a neighbor on my farm. Traffic lights change from green to red, passing through the orange and I wonder who they are addressing.
11:00 a.m. a 12:30 p.m. They are the busiest hours of the day. People leave their homes to shop, only social activity of these weeks of confinement. What yesterday was a mere necessity, Today it is revealed as a new form of entertainment. A police car patrols the area. While, covered with their masks and latex gloves, people move from one place to another, carrying their carts and shopping bags. Someone raises their chin and greets another neighbor, whom he seems to recognize. A man in a red jacket, tour the terrace of the building opposite. Walk with your arms on your hips, like a captain reviewing the troops of an invisible army, looking down from time to time, like meditating, like someone weighing the options on the battlefield of a war that will not be fought. Dogs bark at each other, while the owner of the bakery smokes the second of the day. In another building, right next door, a woman waters her plants conscientiously. While, at a traffic light, Another woman crosses a street at the crosswalk when, suddenly, she stumbles and falls to the ground. Seeing the urgency of the scene, a third woman approaches this second and, in an impulse, try to help her, but, at the last moment, becomes aware of what he is doing and withdraws. for the gesture, I understand that the woman who fell has not suffered any harm and does not need your help.. However, you feel like something has been lost in all this. The baker in front of my house, He goes out to smoke his third cigarette of the day. Later, a quarter. On the second floor, on his head, two women chat with each other sitting on two scissor chairs. At this time, the sun is still hidden between the clouds. the light of day, casts a strange gray tone on the neighborhood.
13:00 p.m. An unexpected event shocks the calm of the neighborhood. As if it were one of those giant dragons that appear in those fantasy television series, a cargo plane flies over the city at a very low altitude, projecting, like a visitor from another world, its shadow on the facades of buildings. The sound of the engines causes a thunderous noise that explodes, suddenly, in the middle of so much silence. However, There is a bit of nostalgia in this noise that, for a moment, comforts me. It's the noise of the past, when everything was “normal”. At last, the sun opens a gap in the sky. The bakery has already closed its doors. On a balcony of a building, a neighbor has hung a banner. “Enough of misgovernment”. After three weeks cloistered, something is stirring in the heart of the city. As a response, and before the first and still shy rays of sun, a man goes out to the balcony of his house dressed exclusively in a very small black swimsuit, spreads his towel and lies down, backwards, on the ground.
14:00 p.m. At meal time, a huge cloud crosses in front of my window, like a big ocean liner. The sun has broken, at last, the veil of this gray sky.
15:00 a 16:00 p.m. There is no one. The city seems immersed in a perpetual Sunday. An ambulance crosses the street. for a few hours, the sun has taken over the situation. In the building opposite, the two women from the second continue sharing the narrow space of the balcony of their house. one of them, read a book. Otherwise, nothing moves.
17:00 p.m. Believing himself to be the master of the street, A motorist is traveling in the wrong direction, certain that no one will stop him.. A woman arrives with a suitcase at the entrance of a building and one perceives, suddenly, the extraordinary thing about that picture, before so everyday. Where does it come from?, I wonder. A little while later, a man in overalls, He also returns home. In his hands he carries some packets of mineral water. Walks like a haggard, swinging his heavy body back and forth on the axis of his waist. The sun sets and, then, appears again. A cat crosses the street, confident.
18:00 p.m. At times, the street remains empty. Nobody behind the windows. Nobody on the terraces. Nobody on the balconies. The neighborhood, with its bars and businesses closed by the State of Alarm, seems marinated in an endless lethargy. The singing of birds has now taken over the landscape, when, suddenly, That silence is broken by the siren of another ambulance rushing towards the hospital.. As the next time approaches, some people look out of the windows of their houses again. Two neighbors chat from one balcony to another. Separated by a wall, they forget to keep a safe distance. What will they be saying to each other??, I wonder. After a while, an upstairs neighbor, attracted by voices, comes out to gossip. They don't even realize that someone is spying on them..
19:00 p.m. More dogs. more people. But nothing. in another building, someone has hung another banner: Health, 100% public, dice. On the terrace of the building next door, They still haven't picked up the laundry that someone hung up that morning, first thing in the morning. The sky is completely clear. With the new schedule, we still have left, at least, two long hours of light.
20:00 p.m. The party starts. Today the repertoire includes a jota, several speakers, applause, some pasodoble, and “I will survive” by Mónica Naranjo. Close the concert, the regional anthem. He show lasts about twenty minutes. Then, as if we were snails that have come out into the sun after a heavy rain, we take refuge in the strange safety of our homes.
21:00 p.m. Little by little, night falls on the neighborhood. Again, intense red in the clouds. Arreboles, they are called. After, darkness. The lights in the windows and balconies are already beginning to illuminate. My phone says it will be sunny all day tomorrow. story attempts. Moments of lives. Scraps. This is what the world looks like from my window. GERARDO LEON
