Katie’s three-part narrative of the last six months living in Italy
Italian Perspective
One month after Italy declared its state-of-emergency on January 31, following the WHO’s direction the day before, Covid-19 started spreading like wildfire, mostly in our neighboring region of Lombardia (Lombardy, Italy). The first few weeks for everyone seemed to weigh like a ton of bricks and feel like a tsunami, blurring all the lines we had understood to be true. In the very beginning, I took refuge in short walks around our neighborhood, but even those little luxuries quickly slipped away as the number of active cases and deaths continued to rise, resulting in heightened fears as the country’s lockdown tightened even more around us. For our family, these scary statistics were but a mere idea, however, communicated by images on the news and in government notifications from hospitals and city centers 100-150 kilometers (60-90 miles) away. When we looked out our windows in the countryside of Piemonte, nothing appeared to be different other than the quiet and eerie vacancy of human activity. Regardless, we understood the potential risks and respected mandates to stay home, taking all the precautions to help lower the curve of transmission and protect ourselves. These short, dark days of late winter hung over all of us as we blindly navigated an unprecedented catastrophe, every day bringing dreaded announcements of more closures related to schools, businesses, travel, and borders.
Italy was the first Western country to be heavily hit by what we now commonly refer to as the coronavirus and hadn’t had much time to prepare for the overwhelming burden this disease presented to hospitals and the public healthcare system. As a result, sadly, a large number of people including many heroic healthcare workers have died. Many of us were distressed by the way the rest of the world ignored Italy’s pleas for help and warnings in the beginning, as if it seemed to be a bad joke or a mismanaged mistake.
Despite it all, we have been surrounded by an overwhelming hope, our spirits lifted by many beautiful people in the international community through social media. People famously shared songs and balcony time, rainbows, and messages, stories, and moments of love and faith. Our hearts are bigger than ever before, and I am impressed by how resilient and strong the Italian people really are. Following 11 weeks of strict quarantine, we took our initial steps of legal freedom beyond our home on May 4, when Italy first started lifting one of the world’s most intense lockdowns. Since June 1, we have roamed once again among European borders. Now, we enjoy a renewed sense of life even though we are far from “normal” because the country is still working to keep the virus manageable. Among other precautions, we always keep a mask on hand to wear in private businesses and public spaces where there are other people, many of us are choosing to avoid crowded places, and some have cancelled vacations. The Italian economy related to tourism and some industries is suffering, putting a stress on everyone as we all try to find our footing to move forward.
Our Family
Looking back, I had great intentions to write and journal throughout March and April but couldn’t find the energy nor the time beyond my existing responsibilities and perhaps also the daily patterns I had set up for myself to survive. Certainly, my own personal experience was one that could be considered quite fortunate, for I have a spacious home and a patch of grass out back where I live, fresh air to breathe, and a family to share my time with, day in and day out. We also had the good fortune to be able to order deliveries of fresh groceries and, thanks to Italy’s rich agriculture, we never wanted for good–even seasonal–food. Lucky for us, we managed to avoid the hospital despite a few weeks of what we now refer to as our “mysterious bad cough,” and we learned to lean into each other with an ever-greater need for one another. Unfortunately, it wasn’t like this for everyone, which is why I think about how it’s now our responsibility to help others heal beyond this pandemic.
My husband, son, and I created new rhythms and comforts for our daily lives in place of the old schedule that had been seemingly carved by work patterns and school. Before our quarantine, our enclosed driveway existed mainly as a passageway for cars to come and go, but since has become a canvas for colorful chalk drawings as well as a bicycle racetrack. Before our quarantine, we had a stricter schedule in order to (try) to get to school on time, but that system also evolved into a loose cycle of habits and games spanning our son’s ceaseless 12-15-hour days; and since late spring, we often eat dinner as late as 9 p.m. before the light fades at 9:30 p.m. You see, my husband and I weren’t the ones with a mandatory call time from a remote office. We are freelancers who are used to juggling an eclectic schedule and project list amid our home life that had been greatly supported by our son’s school. Feeling the overwhelming responsibility to protect, teach, and entertain Cesare throughout this quarantine, we channeled our collective energies and juggled our days to keep things as smooth as possible for him with picnics, puzzles, make-believe games, and bicycle races, despite the underlying stress we felt by changed schedules, reduced workloads, and delayed projects. Even today, we wonder how the rest of the world’s problems related to this pandemic will affect our family’s livelihood as we continue to hope for the best. We quickly realized that nature was our best ally throughout the quarantine uncertainty, and so we passed hours together outdoors doing anything and everything to recalibrate our off-kilter equilibriums. Soon enough, the worst days passed, and our new normal arrived, as well as the new pool and trampoline in the backyard to keep things interesting through the rest of summer! Looking back, I am grateful for how all of us have enjoyed our time together, which has never before felt so important. Cesare is now so much more confident riding on his bicycle or happily swimming in the water, even though we’re not yet ready to let go of those training wheels or armbands.
I leaned into health and natural preventions and cures by way of essential oils, an increase in seasonal fruit and vegetables, herbal teas, and natural food supplements, as my best attempt to keep my family strong and healthy. Cooking for the day felt as if it was the most important act I could do, planning and weaving together vitamins to fortify my two loved ones against whatever invisible monster existed around us. Daily smoothies and fresh juicing turned into guessing games to see who could name all the fruits and vegetables mom had selected. Baking once a week became a sweet escape and a deliciously-creative opportunity for my son and me to share and look forward to, especially when it came to the joyous moment when we would present our creation to Papá for him to fawn over our labors. And yet, we still worried, would Cesare be okay through all of this time without our extended family, his friends, teachers, and school life? How long will this pandemic last? Are we doing enough to help him, or rather, are we even doing too much?
Learning to Fly
Prior to the pandemic, our preschool had been publicly acknowledged for their creative curriculum themed around caterpillars and butterflies, creating a linear and beautifully-progressive storyline for the children to follow throughout the year, linking them to nature’s lessons as well as their own little selves. A magical and enchanting “fairy” in costume would even come to the classroom on occasion to bridge the gap between our adult reality and the children’s worlds with music and fun stories.
Thankfully, our teachers applied the same creativity with distance learning. After just a few weeks, they recreated their entire approach to connecting, teaching, and guiding the class of three- to four-year-olds. In my opinion, they all did a beautiful job in maintaining a thoughtful (albeit remote) connection for our young kids. They inspired reflection and creativity as well as observation of the nature surrounding us, promoting hands-on projects, all of which worked very well if a parent or caregiver could commit to working with them. We received a series of beautiful, short storytelling videos, arts and crafts projects, and active home challenges. Using just a few everyday household items, our son and I made his own caterpillar just like the caterpillar “Andrea” character he knew from school, and then we shared our final results with the group chat so that, on our own schedules, we could feel a sense of togetherness.
We watched funny videos of our teachers creating skits with their own caterpillars to make beautiful spring decorations with pizza delivery boxes, tissues, markers, water, and string. We collected rocks and created designs, played remote scavenger hunts, gathering everything we could find relating to a particular subject or color, and shared them (just as we all had played with PassportBebe!). Perhaps though, my favorite project we did this spring was baking a seasonal strawberry walnut cake after watching his teacher lovingly show us how to do it in her recorded video. The cake was gorgeous, simple, and easy to make together, not to mention delicious, and I have received permission to share it with you.
All of our “lessons” arrived via Whatsapp, forwarded to us by way of a class representative. It wasn’t easy for anyone to make these changes, but we remembered what it must be like for our little guys, who perhaps were making the biggest adjustments of all. Just as they had started to build trust in their “home” away from home with teachers and new friends, it was all taken away. In an effort to communicate why and what was going on, our teachers created and videotaped a beautiful, theatrical, hand-sketched visual story that was read by a familiar voice as we watched the pages “turn” like slides in a picture box. One of many stories delivered in this lovely way, this one in particular involved Caterpillar “Andrea” encountering “a monster that wanted to make everyone sick” that ended up being outsmarted by the doctors, happy characters, and heroic children hiding in our homes. This story helped our son process the present life situation, and he often loved hearing the story again and again of how he was one of the smart ones to defeat the “Bad Cold” monster at its game.
The spring came and went, and as the weather warmed we all adjusted to longer days and an easing of lockdown rules, opening up more time for recreational walks and small gatherings. As for our personal home-school philosophy, when we weren’t doing school projects, reading, playing outside, or doing something creative indoors, we sought out information about animals and science for Cesare through online videos, which also gave us a break. As a result, our son now seems to be an expert in marine animals, dinosaurs, and the animal kingdom in general. Cesare will be doing something as random as going to the bathroom or putting on his clothes and will just start firing off facts.
“Mom, the Mariana Trench is the deepest place on Earth,” he said this morning out of the blue. I can’t help but crack up at the absurdity of it all.
The teachers had arranged for one Zoom call mid-spring and a second, final call in June to end the school year and welcome summer. A parent was called into school to pick up our child’s year-end folder of projects and the pillow, blanket, and other items we had left behind for afternoon naps. I will never forget how surprisingly emotional that day was for me, and I hadn’t expected it. We weren’t allowed inside and instead were greeted by all of our teachers lined up just past the entrance gate. It was the first time we had seen each other in months, and they talked to me at a distance, each of us masked. They asked how we were holding up, how Cesare was doing, and I sensed a knowing tinge of worry for our son who had always proven himself to be highly-sensitive and reliant on consistency. I choked on my response, but it was clear that that our words didn’t hold much meaning, that we all were just exhausted and saddened by the turn of global events and how our lives had become dramatically affected, even if we were still “all okay.” I said a muffled goodbye behind my mask and dewy eyes and turned to go, but I had to stop around the corner in a local parking lot to let out a good cry that had been pushed away for weeks.
Upon returning home, I excitedly and happily announced the arrival of this school folder and put it down on the floor for all of us to see. Cesare was thrilled and so proud to share with mom and dad everything he had worked on at school before the lockdown. All at once, his little spirit soared with the love he holds for his class, having been reminded of the happy memories and accomplishments he had made. Feeling this confidence, he ran into his room to grab something, returning in a flash with a set of yellow butterfly wings he had made earlier in the school year. Cesare did his best to put them on by himself but needed help with the final adjustment…and then he flew! It took my breath away, our little boy had become a butterfly after all!
*As of July 26, 2020, the Italian Ministry of Health with respect to COVID-19 has reported a total of 198,446 recoveries overall, 35,107 deaths and an increase in 255 new cases since the previous day.
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