It is Time to Heal

Over the past week, rather than emerge from our self-imposed 14-day quarantine, we've seen fellow Americans join us in "social distancing." However, it's gone much farther than I could ever have envisioned, with restaurants and bars being closed to in-house dining and imbibing, retail stores closing to casual browsers, recreational areas closing or cutting back staff, and schools extending their closures and moving to online lessons.  The message has been clear: stay home.

Collectively, we fear losing our jobs, depleting our savings, caring well for our most vulnerable populations, supporting medical personnel on the frontlines, and apparently, procuring toilet paper. There are numerous stories of deep tragedy and excruciating grief.  There is absolute and justified frustration with how our federal government has failed its people, and the costs will be exorbitant.  Both in lives lost and dollars spent.

But there is also light.

Social media has helped positive stories go viral.  The residents of an Italian village joined together from their balconies to sing the national anthem, residents of Wuhan have banded together to care for each other, and dolphins and swans have returned to Venetian canals to play. Even Congress has put aside bitter divisiveness and worked on bi-partisan legislation to assist those in desperate need.  And today, I found toilet paper stocked at my nearest grocery store.

While it's the first time in my 50 years that I have faced rationing (the store is only allowing customers to purchase one pack of TP at a time), and shelves still lack bare essentials (beautiful, fresh produce abounds, though), it seems we are adapting. No doubt there's the routine jerk who makes life difficult for workers busting their hineys to restock shelves, but I get the sense that the majority of the population understands that patience and adaptation must dominate this chapter of our collective lives.

Dino track

Adhering to our "vast places, few faces" mantra, Chris and I broke away from home with a couple of friends, Jo and Sarah, earlier this week to travel to Utah (see accompanying pictures).  This region of the world has a tremendous way of putting life in perspective. We walked along fins, through canyons, and around arches that have been shaped by water and wind over millions of years.  We traced the steps of dinosaurs, realizing that we have only been here for six million years while they walked the Earth for 165 million years.  In the grand scheme of Earth's history, the current disruption to our lives doesn't even register as a blip.

Not dismissing the pain and agony many throughout our world are experiencing from COVID-19, I do think that this period may help many of us reset our priorities and expectations. Maybe it will help us remember our humanity.

On this vernal equinox of 2020, I leave you with this passage from Pam Houston, from her essay, Breaking the Ice, written on the vernal equinox in 1998: "It's as though the snowmelt and the lengthening days have simply taken hold of us. As though we have tacitly agreed to accept the silence the mountains demand in this silent season. Summer is the time for talking, the mountains say, when the birds are singing, and the creek is gurgling and there are leaves on the trees that will rustle in the wind. Now is the time to sit silently together, to feel the ice break around you, to wait for the first bluebirds to return to the feeder; now is the time to heal."

Trying to Do the Right Thing

Bisti/De-Na-Zin Wilderness

The end of our self-imposed quarantine is in sight.  Friday, the 13th, marks the end of our 14-days of isolation.  Thankfully, we're not the superstitious type. But.

During our 14-day isolation, we have had colds. Chris has been worse off than me. We don't feel bad.  No fevers for either of us. Just minor respiratory stuff. Now a lingering cough. That's how colds tend to go in each of us. Except.

We were in Italy. On trains and at festivals with significant crowds.  When we left for Italy, there were no cases of COVID-19.  When we aborted our trip, there were 650 cases.  Less than 2 weeks later, there are over 10,000 cases, and the government has shut down the entire country (or tried to).

We've done the prudent thing. We've kept our distance from others.  We've occupied ourselves with trips to places where the space is vast, and the people are few (see accompanying pictures).

With plenty of time on our well-washed hands, we've also been monitoring the news and tracking symptoms.  They keep changing.  There is too much conflicting information out there, and it niggles at us kinda like our coughs.

Great Sand Dunes NP

Late last week, after reading that fevers aren't an absolute indicator of COVID-19, Chris sent an inquiry to COHELP at the CO Department of Public Health & Environment, providing background and essentially availing himself to being tested if they thought he should be.  The response was ambiguous, at best.

After listening to CPR's reporting on COVID-19 and reading an article in the local paper regarding the state's efforts to identify where cases are, Chris reached out to our local health department.  A message directed him to call the state hotline.  He did. A recording at that number instructed him to call his doctor.  He called his doctor's office. They informed him that testing could only be done at the local hospital.  He called the hospital, only to be told that the local health department had to approve him before the hospital would test him.  He called the local health department again. Someone returned his call only to tell him he would need to talk to another staff member.  That staff member called in relatively short order, asked him a series of questions and upon hearing that 1) he'd been to Italy and 2) had a cough, recommended he be tested.  At the hospital.

Sandhill Cranes in Monte Vista NWR.  We kept our distance.

He called the hospital again and learned that testing is only available through a drive-by at the local hospital's ER.  He called the ER who confirmed they could do the test but at the cost of an ER visit.  He asked the obvious, "How much is that?"  They DID NOT KNOW, and referred him to hospital registrar.  He left a message. The registrar called back.  The COVID-19 test is free, but there's a cost for the ER visit.  Again, "how much?"  They DO NOT KNOW.  After several hours, we're still waiting for a call back with the cost.

This matters because there have been reports of people paying more than $4,000 in fees to get their "free" test.  For those who don't have insurance (or crappy insurance), this is prohibitive.  When we were still in Italy, we had a couple of discussions on the pros of potentially getting sick there -- the obvious being that the cost of treatment would be less.  Cost, in my opinion, should NOT be part of a discussion when we are dealing with a global health issue.

This whole experience neither inspires confidence in our medical establishment nor the ability of our country to handle what has now been declared a pandemic by the WHO.

I want to be clear: We don't think we're positive for COVID-19, but we figured if we could get a test to be absolutely sure, that would be a good thing - the right thing -- for everyone in our community.  It should not be this hard.  We may be free of our quarantine by Friday, but if we are not, it's only because we love our friends and our community.

Beauty still abounds in this complex world.

Carnevale di Viareggio

I've had a few requests to go into more detail on the Carnevale di Viareggio.  It was certainly one of the highlights of our amazing (though curtailed) trip to Italy.  I wasn't expecting the spectacle that greeted us when we got to this seaside town, although Chris, having done his research, knew what was waiting for us.

The story is that the first Carnevale parade was held in 1873. A group of wealthy noblemen from neighboring Lucca were wintering in the seaside village and wanted to have a parade of carriages adorned with flowers.  Locals took the opportunity to voice their dissatisfaction against increasing taxes and disrupted the parade wearing costumes and colored masks.

That marked the beginning of a tradition of making statements on the politics and culture of the day.  It also lasts the entire month of February, with parades on each Sunday of the month and the final parade on what we know as Fat Tuesday.

Today, the parade is highlighted by massive animated floats which tower above the buildings along the parade route -- La Passeggiata.  Each of these floats is accompanied by a troupe of dancers both on and preceding the float.  Music and choreography are unique to each float.  There are also clusters of smaller floats.  Prizes are awarded at the end of Carnevale in a variety of categories.

The floats travel along La Passeggiata -- a boulevard that is approximately 2km long so that spectators standing in the street's median are sandwiched between the floats.  Spectators can also move freely alongside and between the floats, too, providing a truly personal experience.  It is definitely a spectacle to experience if you ever get the chance.

I did a little bit of research on the meaning behind the 2020 floats. Here's information that I'm taking directly from this source on some of the floats I enjoyed most:

From the clip above:

1. "Hug me, it's Carnevale" - The float pays tribute to altruism, symbolized by an embrace. Neapolitan philosopher Luciano De Crescenzo used to say, “We are angels with only one wing, thus we can fly only if we embrace”. Inspired by this, the artist depicts his dreamlike vision of an embrace where two strands of DNA constitute the characters who symbolize universal knowledge: cosmos, music, love, art and literature. The sculpture representing the endless embrace is at the centre of the float, while on the stage the smiling King Carnevale invites us to hug one another.
2. "The Great Leap" - A robotic tiger sporting the symbols of the People’s Republic of China asserts its power over a well-known icon of American pop culture. A lotus flower, similar to Huawei’s logo, frames the tiger’s body while a scroll of apparently Chinese golden pictograms screens a wall made up of containers, the symbol of globalization in commerce. A faded portrait of the Great Helmsman hangs in the background, the Chinese pop icon so well depicted by Andy Warhol. In some parts of the world, globalization and free trade are still creating deep pockets of poverty and social inequality, whereas in the “most advanced” countries, economic and social stability have been undermined.
3. "Hunting for a Happy Ending" - Majestic, elegant and stunningly beautiful. With its strength, pride, grace and aggressiveness, the tiger is one of the animal kingdom’s icons. Once worshiped, today tigers are at risk of extinction because of man. The float decries this grave danger, telling the story of a family that fights with all its might to ensure a future for our planet’s biodiversity, in the hope that man will reverse his course and start hunting for a happy ending.

In the clip below: 

1. "Home Sweet Home" - While humanity seems to be swimming happily towards dire straits, the Earth – our sweet home as stated by the title, is swiftly heading to the point of no return. Following our brain, courage and heart is the only path to salvation, just like new scarecrows, lions and tin men. The characters of the Wizard of Oz become an allegory, warning humanity and committing to building a new possible world. Greta Thunberg is the protagonist at the centre of the float, our Dorothy on a journey towards a new awareness.
2. "Blessed Ignorance" - Knowledge and ignorance are the two sides of the same coin, which has the face of modern man. The Internet, our daily bread, is a great tool of knowledge but is increasingly becoming a vehicle disinformation. As the number of read books decreases, the number of views and likes goes up. The great Centaur at the centre of the float symbolizes the spreading of ignorance that is multiplied by social media, by reality shows, by school and politics. Wielding an axe in his hand, the Centaur slashes towers of books. Icons of centuries of culture are erased in an instant.
3. "if it were fire" The construction is a complaint against the devastating fires caused by human hands. The thoughtless gesture of a madman, depicted as a pig typical of nineteenth-century graphics, causes the destruction of entire woods. But what is behind the hand of the arsonists? Crazy craze, crime or a desire to feel powerful? 
4. "In Wonderland" - Social-media mania narrated through the lens of Alice in Wonderland. However, the world of likes, posts and stories is not as wonderful as it seems. It takes away our desire of friendship, of social life and of building relationships with others, giving free rein instead to the Ego that feeds on a fabricated reality.
5. "Robotika" - The future is here. Robotics already monitor every moment in our everyday lives. What will tomorrow bring? Will artificial intelligence take over every aspect of human activity and thought? The allegorical float is a warning to all of us: a large figure with a human face is at its centre and reveals its complete internal robotization. A positive message however shines through: robots can never have the feelings, at least until today.
6. "Idol" - The powerful God-making factory never stops and a new idol is ready. A new gigantic, speedy, and imposing object of idolatry is born. Created by the people for the people, the Frankenstein-like new idol advances and dominates the scene, influencing our daily lives. The Idol is my slave of which I am a slave.
7. "Our Great Geniuses" - Great inventions by Italian geniuses have changed humanity! From the radio and telegraph to the compass and telescope, green-white-red inventors have lain the foundation for exploration and communication. Having untied ancient bonds, we hope that our contemporary “geniuses” will strive to make the name of Italy fly in Europe and in the world.
8. "Ole" - The float takes a stand against bullfighting, a traditional spectacle that in some locations is considered cultural heritage, but that for the artist represents a macabre ritual, a liturgy of death. This time, the bull is the main protagonist of the float as he wields a red cape and shows it to the petrified bullfighter, who now understands that the show has no magical and epic dimension, but that it is only a one-way journey to a bloody death.

Stephanie Weber · 2d