As of 6pm, local time, Athens:
# of confirmed cases: 495 (31 new cases since yesterday)
# of confirmed cases: 495 (31 new cases since yesterday)
# of deaths: 9 (3 deaths in the past 24 hours)
# of people in hospital: 90
# of people tested: 7,200
***
Day 12 of staying home
Our numbers are rising. Most of the cases are in
Athens. Of the total 495 confirmed cases, 84 are “orphan” cases, of unknown source
or contact.
 |
| exodus |
Tsiodras and Hardalias both began by strongly urging
and stressing that people need to stay home, and that we are not on vacation. They
reiterated that this is not the time to go on day trips and go to your summer
homes or to your villages in the countryside and on the islands.
Today it was announced that three more hospitals
in Athens are now designated hospitals for coronavirus patients only, and six additional
health centers will be used to examine suspicious cases.
Tsiodras is a soft-spoken, thin man with glasses and
greying hair. Every day on the live briefing, he’s dressed in a suit and tie,
the suit bunching up around his shoulders as he leans forward with his hands
clasped on the desk in front of him. He has the air of a nerdy scientist, a professor.
He speaks in a calm voice, slowly, explaining the situation, explaining medical
terms and consequences of the virus.
He always speaks first and gives the statistics of
the day. How many new cases, how many deaths, how many in ICU, how many
discharged from the hospital.
Hardalias, Deputy Civil Protection Minister, has
dark hair and a stocky build. Every day at the briefing, he wears a button-down
dress shirt. He reads off his notes, looking out over his reading glasses, in a
strong, baritone voice, words booming out of his mouth.
He had a lot to say today.
It’s Friday, beautiful weather, and lots of
Athenians are on the move. People are getting out of town, “escaping” to their
villages, islands, the countryside, the mountains… The ferries at the port are
busy, the highway toll plazas that lead out of Athens are busy… I’m not in a
panic but it seems like a lot of other people are.
New measures are now in place to try to rein people
in…
Hardalias reminded everyone that the government can
see which cars are passing through the toll plazas…
As of 6am tomorrow, Saturday, only permanent
residents of the islands may travel to/from the islands, and only for serious
reasons (for supplies, etc). To buy a ticket for a ferry to the islands, people
must now provide proof of residence on the island, by using tax documents which
state legal place of residence.
In addition, all privately-owned boats and yachts
are banned from sailing and are prohibited from entering any port, passengers
may not be dropped off/picked up from any port.
Open-air fruit and vegetable markets will shut down
only for tomorrow, Saturday. (too many people congregating there). On Monday
they will re-open, but only with 50% of the stalls, and there must be five meters
of space between each stall. Sellers will be on a rotation program.
As of Monday, fewer people will be allowed into
supermarkets (previously it was one customer per 10 sq meters, now it will be one
customer to every 15 sq meters).
Hardalias also repeated previously-announced
measures and underlined the punishment for not adhering to the rules, and added
that fines may be increased as well.
Over the weekend, there will be an increased, raised
police presence in parks and squares, he reiterated that no picnics are
allowed, no group exercise.
He warned that if people keep going out, trying to
get out of Athens, etc, the government will be forced to take even stricter measures,
(which are already being discussed and explored).
He said that people who do not follow the rules are irresponsible,
negligent and such behavior borders on criminality.
Today Hardalias was even more serious than usual,
his hands gesturing up and down, his words coming out hard and fast, loud –
like furiously clacking Morse code signals.
I get the feeling that the authorities are sending
out an SOS…
***
Meanwhile, in my little world, my spirits are up,
probably because I’m not watching too much news on TV. Just a brief update in
the morning and then I must tune out to keep myself sane. I watch the 6pm live
briefing and not much more.
I spent my morning working. Around 3pm I started to
get hungry… Spouse is working from home today and I suggested that maybe I should
go pick up lunch…
Dare I leave the house? Should I cross the threshold
to the outside world, passing through the gates of coronavirus Hades?
At first, we thought strategically.
I called our favorite place and got no answer… I
looked through our pile of take-out menus and couldn’t find the place we
wanted. So I decided to venture out on a treasure hunt…
...for souvlaki.
I know, souvlaki is not exactly a necessity, but I
haven’t been out since Monday (and that was a quick walk to the supermarket
around the corner)… And it’s Friday, the start of the weekend, don’t we deserve
a bit of excitement? A souvlaki party for two?
I started to put on my shoes…
Take the hand
sanitizer.
I know.
Don’t use the elevator.
I know.
Don’t touch the
door downstairs, push it with the key.
I know.
Push the light switch
with your elbow.
I know.
Take the wipes, too.
Ugh.
And I was off to the square near my house in search
of souvlaki. The first place was closed. Metal shutters down. No notice posted.
 |
| empty square |
It was a beautiful sunny day, blue skies, about 68F.
Few people were milling about.
I walked past a pharmacy. Instructions and rules
were printed out and taped to the window. There was also a certificate of “disinfection”
in the window, from a company that cleans and sanitizes. It stated the date of
the last “disinfection”, certified that the premises are officially clean and
listed how often “disinfection” cleanings will take place. The staff inside not
only wore gloves and masks over their mouths, but they also wore those huge
plastic face shields.
So my search continued. Onto the next souvlaki place.
Closed. They had a hand-written note (nice touch) in their window saying how
important it is for everyone’s health and safety that we all stay home. They
wished their valued customers good health and said we’ll all be together again
soon.
I walked all around the square, the two other
souvlaki places were also closed, and I crossed the main road to try the last place,
a bit further, past the square.
From afar, I could see that it was open. I almost gleefully
pranced over the two sets of tram tracks and the (usually busy) road to reach the
souvlaki place.
 |
| souvlaki paradise |
I approached Εδεμ, (Edem) the only open
souvlaki joint in my area… Edem means Eden. I felt like I had
literally reached the Garden of Eden. Day 12 of being cooped up inside, I
entered this souvlaki paradise with a ridiculous goofy smile and a bounce in my
step. I looked at the people inside and blurted out “Finally, I’ve found
you!” They looked sideways at each other and kind of smiled… Maybe they think I’m
insane… “You’re the only place open – the others in the square are closed, I’ve
been walking all around…” I explained.
“Really? Such-and-such is closed?”
“Yep.”
“And the big place on the square?”
“Yep. It’s just you guys.”
 |
| my hero |
I placed my order. They stood behind the counters
but I still kept my distance, stretching out my arm to put the card in the
machine. After I paid, I was about to take out the travel-sized hand sanitizer
in my pocket (my last one) when I spotted their big bottle of hand sanitizer on
the low counter near the register. Their delivery guy was standing next to it,
but he moved away when he saw me coming towards it with my hands out.
I pumped some onto my hands, hmm very liquid-y, it
wasn’t like a gel. Hmm doesn’t smell like gel sanitizer… Before I could
say anything, the delivery guy informed me that since they ran out of hand
sanitizer, they topped up the bottle with tsipouro.
 |
| Greek ingenuity |
Tsipouro is a distilled
spirit containing 40–45% alcohol by volume and is produced from residue left
over during the wine-making process.
“wow, tsipouro?!! Not a bad
idea...” We laughed… “Eh, what can we do?” the guy said…
Now my hands smelled like tsipouro
and I wanted to lick them. Treasure hunt successful, I
left with loot in tsipouro-disinfected hand, walking back through the
almost-empty square.
When I got to my building, I
trudged up the stairs (elevators now resemble an enclosed petri dish of
invisible assailants) to my apartment. I stood in the hall.
 |
| take the stairs... |
You found stuff??!!
OH yeah…
Take
off your shoes.
I know.
Don't touch anything.
I know.
Wash your hands.
I know…
Why do you smell like tsipouro?
 |
| Friday souvlaki party |
Comments