Uñt’ayata: 29.03.2020
Thursday, March 26, 2020. My daughter calls me to happily inform me that she is being put on short-time work. Of course, this is a serious matter, but as always, she refuses to let excessive drama arise. Apparently, many people here in our main village think the same way.
Of course, on television, we see the deserted Kurfürstendamm and the largely deserted Alexanderplatz every evening. Responsible citizens confess to the government's measures into microphones covered in foil, emerging groups are immediately dispersed in the parks upon the police's request, and on the balconies, applause and singing are given in praise of everyday heroes.
On the other hand, people are innovatively adapting to the new regulations. For two weeks now, there has been a general contact ban and an urgent request not to unnecessarily leave the house. However, going shopping and visiting the doctor are explicitly allowed, going outside and moving around in it is not prohibited. But apparently, the message is understood as follows: "You should go outside and move around in fresh air extensively, as often and as long as possible."
As a result, the promenade starting in front of our apartment has become the hotspot for air breathers, strollers, joggers, cyclists, skaters, and pram pushers, transforming it from a moderately used path for power cyclists and dog walkers. Between 8:00 am and 6:00 pm, you can see people of all ages and fitness levels in all imaginable modes of transportation and speeds, under a brilliantly blue sky, of course, because the weather is also not taking the whole thing seriously. On regular weekdays at 11:00 am, it is already difficult to maintain the minimum distance.
Of course, we are no better than the rest and have activated our tandem at least four weeks earlier than planned. Before that, we still have to go to our mechanic in Britz Süd to have the brakes and gears fixed. Hopefully, he is still open. Well, hello! He is open, and here, too, maintaining the minimum distance is not that easy. Apparently, long neglected treasures are being reactivated, and sales are going well.
In the end, 2020 actually becomes the year of the traffic turnaround in Berlin. Or will the bikes end up in the cellar again in autumn, where one then wonders where all the toilet paper is coming from? And how long will the 405 wheat flour actually last, or are there already food moths in it?
But enough joking around. After the second week, you start feeling quite uneasy. Outwards, everything looks beautiful with ten hours of sunshine. But inside, you feel like you're truanting school. Everything is fine and dandy, but at some point, I'll have to go back and what will the world look like then.
Addendum: On Sunday, the sun finally recognized the seriousness of the situation and disappeared. Thick clouds hang over the city, and it is raining and hailing at about eight degrees Celsius.