I spent the morning taking to my favourite neighbour across the street. Tanti Lena is a gypsy in her eighties. She is very proud of her heritage. Today she did house cleaning -- all the windows, all the floors, and the furniture were shinny, and the air was fresh. My house looks awful by comparison because instead of doing housecleaning I write -- and also, they have newer things in theirs and no children in the house for most of the year. She gave me food she had cooked earlier today which was left because she expected her great-grandchildren (three girls in their early teens; they live with her and her daughter in another house) to come, and they did not show up. I gave her fresh eggs from our chickens in exchange. She told me that she was worried a war with guns might be brewing, that things are no longer all right with the world. She remembered her childhood -- how the Russians came and took everything -- people's houses, people's pigs, and raped women in front of their children and told me this is the first time she's worried about the future again. Theoretically, she is not allowed out of the house beyond 1 p.m. or before 11.a.m., but she likes waking up early and wants to sneak out to the graveyard tomorrow. The roads are empty since the fine is 2000 lei (400 euros) for being outside, the graveyard is empty of live-people, and her trips in the sunlight are likely good for her. But they are illegal. She goes to her grandson's grave -- who was the father of the girls she and her daughter are raising. He had died of a brain tumour a few years ago. We kept our distance during conversation. So, it was quasi-legal -- although, neither she nor I were supposed to cross the road without filling out forms.
I also spoke to the neighbour next door. Before the lock-down she used to teach physical education, and now she continues to teach it online. She sees that it is crucial to educate people to not spit in each other's faces, and to enforce social distancing as much as possible, but believes that closing industry and agriculture worldwide can only lead to disaster. For herself, she is quite happy to be home, and teach via the internet. She can now spend time with her child and do crafts, her house is in perfect order now, etc, but she worries that the future is uncertain and she is afraid. She takes the virus seriously. She no longer takes her son to spend time with her father, who lives alone in a village closer to the mountains, because the child might be an asymptomatic carrier. She encourages her husband to not come home during the weekends. He still works because he is coordinating road repairs, but un-necessary travel is not encouraged. She has a friend who is due to give birth in May and the hospital in Lugoj is closed. The maternity in Timisoara is also closed. However, there is a private hospital that offers questionable care where pregnant women may still go to give birth.
In Romania, many hospitals have closed because nurses and doctors tested positive to COVID-19 -- including the only hospital in the city I live it where 5 nurses tested positive. I worry, too. It's the first time I feel unsafe since I returned. The streets are empty. The police mostly fines people if they get out of their homes. The fines are large and profitable and so they no longer have reason to worry about enforcing other forms of order -- so if people steal or are violent, we might be on our own. There is no hospital care available. My children like climbing trees in the back yard. If they fall, there is nobody to set broken bones or do an X-ray.
I also spoke to the neighbour next door. Before the lock-down she used to teach physical education, and now she continues to teach it online. She sees that it is crucial to educate people to not spit in each other's faces, and to enforce social distancing as much as possible, but believes that closing industry and agriculture worldwide can only lead to disaster. For herself, she is quite happy to be home, and teach via the internet. She can now spend time with her child and do crafts, her house is in perfect order now, etc, but she worries that the future is uncertain and she is afraid. She takes the virus seriously. She no longer takes her son to spend time with her father, who lives alone in a village closer to the mountains, because the child might be an asymptomatic carrier. She encourages her husband to not come home during the weekends. He still works because he is coordinating road repairs, but un-necessary travel is not encouraged. She has a friend who is due to give birth in May and the hospital in Lugoj is closed. The maternity in Timisoara is also closed. However, there is a private hospital that offers questionable care where pregnant women may still go to give birth.
In Romania, many hospitals have closed because nurses and doctors tested positive to COVID-19 -- including the only hospital in the city I live it where 5 nurses tested positive. I worry, too. It's the first time I feel unsafe since I returned. The streets are empty. The police mostly fines people if they get out of their homes. The fines are large and profitable and so they no longer have reason to worry about enforcing other forms of order -- so if people steal or are violent, we might be on our own. There is no hospital care available. My children like climbing trees in the back yard. If they fall, there is nobody to set broken bones or do an X-ray.
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