Mark Hinshaw

I have been taken by how everyone in the village seems to still be enjoying the public spaces. They are just doing this while being mindful of the safety of others. This attitude of collective responsibility is what we most noticed when we first arrived.

What is really happening is that we have been given a rare chance to experience – live, in person – a change that used to happen once in every generation or two – a massive shift in living patterns, in technology, in social life. When there is a sudden and unexpected shift in human life -- whether personal or cultural – some people choose to reflect; others choose to re-invent themselves or the institutions around them.

One can sense a collective sigh of relief that we may have beaten this awful thing.

I can still see the beloved village pharmacist in his long white coat and with his flamboyant mustache, smiling broadly, and waving to passersby. But Patrizio was a victim of coronavirus.

The effects of Covid-19 creeps closer even as the rate of new cases is declining.

We still say "Buongiorno!" albeit through layers of fabric.

Our street market was cancelled but the fish truck still appears twice a week as it always did, attracting a village street cat that sits politely, awaiting its supper. People buy the freshly caught fish, but with a meter separation in between. The usual discussion of various fish ensues as always.

Part of the government’s decree is to change people’s behavior for several weeks – long enough to slow or stop community transmission.

The disappearance of crowds due to the coronavirus scare might actually be good thing. No city can thrive on a monoculture of mass tourism.

As I check in with various friends and colleagues in different parts of Italy, it seems most are being cautious and careful, but there is little real hysteria. But online is going crazy.