Granada is now in Phase 2. We can all breathe a sigh of relief. (I am even looking forward to going out to dinner at a restaurant for the first time since the beginning of March.)
So far, there have been no disasters, which would endanger our smooth transition between phases. We are always afraid that we will be sent back to square one, simply because a large group of people wish to carouse and have a “botellón” or similar.
In colloquial Spanish, a “botellón” is an outdoor festive event where young people get together with various bottles (or Tetra Briks) of cheap wine or alcohol. The general objective of such a gathering is to drink as much as possible until falling to the ground in a senseless heap. This delightful custom leaves the surrounding area littered with trash, vomit, and perhaps a few bodies, who must be afterward carted off to the hospital (or morgue) by their friends or the city police.
In Times of Coronavirus, having a “botellón”, party, or any festive event is not an intelligent initiative because a large celebration might cause the virus to flare up again.
As yet, this has not happened because now most people have read the script and know what the ending will be if the main actors (us) do not act responsibly. Up until now, there have only been localized outbreaks, which the government has been diligently tracing. As mentioned in a previous post, one of the new ‘glam’ jobs in Times of Coronavirus is that of contact tracer.
These new digital detectives are now working overtime so that the virus won’t explode again. Although doctors in Italy claim that the Covid-19 has run out of steam, the bottom line is that no one really knows. The virus still seems to be chugging away quite merrily in other countries, such as England, Brazil, and the USA.
Perhaps if the government had known that tracing virus contacts was such a good idea, things would have turned out differently. It is a pity that three months ago, no one was aware that this job profile even existed.
Although the coronavirus forest fire appears to be mostly extinguished in Spain, there are still patches of smoldering embers and smoking ashes, which might become fires again if the wind blows hard enough. The ashes must thus be continuously dowsed with water to keep the fire from re-igniting.
Practically all these recent outbreaks have the same defining feature. They have stemmed from parties, where the number of people exceeded the limit permitted (10 people in Phase 1, and 15 people in Phase 2). These breaches of quarantine regulations seem to indicate an urgent need to brush up on basic math and reading skills, but this is only true in certain cases.
The real reason for these violations of the rules is that Spaniards have been deprived of fiestas for too long. They are literally starved for celebrations, and as psychologists know, severe deprivation causes people to do crazy things. Still, when one not eaten for a long time, the worst thing that one can do is to suddenly stuff oneself. After living in cloistered retirement for three months, it is not a good idea to go out and overdose on wild parties.
In Spain, however, this is the natural reaction. Celebration seems to be embedded in the DNA here. The Spanish genome has a party gene, which makes the prohibition to frequent bars and restaurants unbearable torture. So when the pressure is eased and restrictions are gradually lifted, everyone suddenly goes haywire and acts like one of those wind-up cymbal-banging monkeys, possibly one of the dumbest toys ever invented.
Nonetheless, this brand of coronavirus stupidity is not restricted to brainless adolescents who celebrate “botellones”. It also afflicts privileged young people, who are certainly old enough to know better. Even members of European royalty are not immune to the temptation of becoming cymbal-banging monkeys.
Last week, Belgium's Prince Joachim, 28, flew 1050 miles to Spain to attend an illegal private party in Córdoba with his Spanish girlfriend and 26 others. Since the limit for gatherings is 15, this was evidently in breach of lockdown. No one is quite sure how he was able to fly to Madrid. The official explanation is that he had permission ‘for business reasons’. If that is indeed so, he should evidently have minded his business, but it seems that he did not. As an ignoble noble, he was unable to resist the siren song of Córdoba.
The party was a success, and a good time was had by all. Unfortunately, Covid-19 crashed the party and showed up as an uninvited guest. Afterward, Prince Joachim tested positive for coronavirus. All the guests who attended the party are now in quarantine. They will have 14 days to learn how to count. Those found guilty of breaking lockdown restrictions could face fines of between 600 and 10,000 euros.
The violation of regulations was further exacerbated by the fact that the royal bash took place during the ten-day period of national mourning for the over 27,000 (= 43,000) dead from coronavirus. Prince Joachim has thus failed Royalty 101, particularly, the concept of noblesse oblige.
The province of Córdoba is hoping that it will suffer no penalty from the royal visit and that it will be able to remain in Phase 2.
Granada is lucky in this regard since nobility rarely visits here except during the ski season. The only royalty permanently residing in Granada are King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella. They have been here for quite a while since they are entombed in the Cathedral. These monarchs will never endanger our permanence in Phase 2 because their last known party took place at the beginning of the 16th century.
